Page 45 of Fierce-Zander

“What?” Regan asked, turning her head to look at him. “Why do you say that?”

“Just your tone again. It got a little higher pitched.”

She sighed. “Like the comment about my chat with my father got a little drier?”

“Yes,” he said.

“I’m going to have to remember that you pick up on those things.”

He grinned. “I think we all have our strengths and weaknesses. I do pick up on a lot of small details. It annoys some.”

“Meaning it annoyed other women?”

He wouldn’t take offense to that question or even where the conversation might go.

In his mind it was best they got a lot of this out in the beginning and had a better understanding of each other.

He had to play it out in his mind at some point how to let her know about the Fierces and any scheme that might be planned out.

“It did,” he said. “About as much as other men might have thought your dates were sessions too.”

“Yep,” she said. “You’re a worthy foe and now I can understand what it’s like on the other side.”

He laughed at her. “The same.”

“Maybe it’s good for us both to be knocked down a few pegs.”

“Speak for yourself,” he said in mock horror. “I happen to like where I’m standing.”

She squinted one eye at him. “It is a nice place, isn’t it?”

“I have to say I’m pleasantly surprised and pleased when we spend time together.”

“Because I’m not stuffy?” she asked.

“That is a big part of it,” he admitted. “The other is that it’s not just a physical attraction. There is nothing worse than having that and finding out there is no substance beyond it.”

Which was a problem in his past.

He’d go for the hot chick that was low on brains.

Or those were the ones coming on to him and offering up some fun and he’d do it to decompress but not much more.

“I haven’t had that problem,” she said. “I might have been just the opposite.”

“Oh,” he said. “You went for the intellectual suit-and-tie type and then found out they were a complete dud in a lot of categories?”

She sighed. “You are good.”

“I’ve been told that a few times too.”

“I’ll add cocky to the list,” she said.

“Which you like or you wouldn’t have come to me for that second date last night.”

“Guilty,” she said. “Just like this little game in our wardrobe we’ve got going on.”

“What game is that?” he asked. He wanted her to admit she was trying to light him on fire so that he didn’t feel like he was a teen secretly fantasizing about a bunch of cheerleaders having a pillow fight in their tiny shorts and tanks.

---