Page 22 of Simon Says

“How long is a while?”

If he found her question pushy, he didn’t say so. “Half an hour or so.”

Not too bad. Dakota looked around at the other men, and although she almost suffocated on the thick testosterone in the air, she decided it might be fun to talk to them. Some of them she recognized from fights; others looked new to her. “Okay, so then…maybe we could do lunch after that?”

“Doubtful.” Simon stopped in front of two men practicing strikes. He took a moment to instruct one man on the positioning of his legs before giving a portion of his attention to Dakota. “While I’m training, I’m on a specialized diet. No fast food for me.”

Dakota patted her fattened satchel. “I figured as much. I packed our lunch in a thermal bag.”

Simon’s dark brows rose a good inch. “You assumed I’d agree?”

“I was hopeful, yeah.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Let me know what you’re offering first.”

That sensual smile of his wasn’t restricted to her offer of food. But Dakota wouldn’t let him bait her. Playing dumb to his innuendo, she said, “For me, a cold cut trio, coffee and chocolate cake for dessert. For you, lean turkey with dark greens and tomato on a whole wheat pita and a power drink.”

He looked at her mouth. “Do I get dessert?”

Such a loaded question! Dakota almost asked,What do you want?but she caught herself in time. “Of course. One cup of cottage cheese with fresh pineapple slices.”

He reached out and tucked a wayward strand of her long blond hair behind her ear. “I’m impressed.”

Today he’d taken to touching her, and the intimacy of that left her flustered. Dakota hoped she hid her reaction to his familiarity. “That I know my business?”

“That you went to so much trouble.”

Trouble would be going back to Barnaby empty-handed. And that, she wouldn’t do. She wanted Barnaby, and the reminders of her awful mistakes, wiped from her life once and for all.

Pasting on a grin, Dakota assured him, “If I get what I want, it’ll be worth it.”

Ifshe gets what she wants.

If her thoughts had traveled in the same direction as his, Simon could almost guarantee her satisfaction on that score. If her thoughts varied from his, well, then, he’d just have to convince her.

One way or another, he had to get a handle on his reaction to her.

Maybe he’d been celibate too long, and maybe, without even knowing it, he was still stinging over Bonnie’s deceit. Whatever the reason, Dakota got to him in a big way.

She removed her coat to reveal a bulky, unattractive navy blue sweatshirt with white lettering that read,BARBERS KNOW WHERE TO PART IT.

Simon scowled. Was she dating a damned barber?

Too many washings had left the sweatshirt misshapen, giving an ill fit over tattered jeans and those same manly black boots. And still she looked so damn sexy to him that his heart beat faster.

Standing outside a circle of men practicing submission moves, Simon pretended not to watch her.

Ha. What a joke.

Even though he’d already told them all that she was off-limits, every guy in the place watched her. A few were ignorant enough to ignore his warning and approach her.

Like Mallet Manchester.

Simon didn’t like Mallet much, but he had to give him some leeway for stupidity. Dumber than a heavy tool, that was Mallet. Simon thought his real name might be Michael, but no one ever called him that, on or off the mat.

Mallet was the type of moron who never took good warnings to heart. He thought he could bully men and harass women, and sometimes, he was right.

Within the SBC family, he was dead wrong.

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