Page 10 of His Rules

Maybe he didn’t want to scare me or seem as presumptuous as the creep he’d just tossed from the bar.

“Then I need to ask. What kind of man are you?”

He slowly turned his head and I noticed the golden specks surrounding his irises. With his high cheekbones and chiseled features, I’d call him mesmerizing.

If I was the kind of woman to be taken in by looks alone. Fortunately, I’d learned a long time before that men could easily hide under expensive clothing and polished shoes, acting as if they were gentlemen when they were in fact beasts in disguise.

“I’d like to think I’m a decent man with honest needs.”

Not a bad answer. “What do you need?” I shouldn’t have asked.

He chuckled and brought his glass to his lips. Even they were sensual, his full mouth one I could envision kissing for hours. If he was into that kind of thing. I certainly wasn’t. Kissing was intimate, more so than having sex. A kiss indicated possibilities I had no time for in my controlled life.

“Many things.”

“Like?”

I was well aware he was leading me on, perpetuating the conversation but I’d only arrived in town a couple of hours before, barely settling into the room when the loneliness had kicked in. No, that wasn’t a good position for me to be in, but I’d had a moment of self-doubt. Not that this fruity concoction was providing any boost in confidence. I had no idea why I’d chosen something so… girlish.

“Like the enjoyment of spending time with a beautiful woman.”

His answer had me chuckling. “Now, that was a smooth pickup line. Perfect in my book.”

“Is that what I was doing?”

He knew exactly what he was doing.

I played the game as well as any man. I took a sip of my drink, taking the time to lick the sugar crystals off the rim before giving him a hard look and answering, “Absolutely. Why not?”

His smile meant I’d played a decent hand. “I must agree.” Without asking, he rose from the barstool, moving to the one next to me. When he sat down, he stared at the glass and snorted. “How is the tropical drink?”

I’d finally had enough, pushing it away. “Terrible. I never drink fruity drinks. Ever.”

“Then why now?”

His question deserved a thoughtful answer. “Because I’m in the first moments of altering my life. I thought something new would be a wonderful kickoff. I was wrong.”

The unknown sexy man immediately motioned for the bartender. “Please bring the lady whatever she’d like and nothing with pineapple juice.”

The guy grinned. “What would you like?”

I glanced at the mystery man’s glass. “Whatever he’s having.”

“A bourbon girl.”

“Sometimes.” Now that was a big, fat lie. However, why not be bold? Daring?

“I consider you to have excellent tastes.”

“In all things,” I countered.

He took a chance, although his mannerisms were easy. Practiced. “Does that include in men?”

His eyes penetrated mine and he was definitely searching for the answer he wanted to hear. “Always in men.”

“Good to know.” He powered back another gulp of his drink and I was allowed a brief vision of the thick cords in his neck. He was obviously in very good shape.

My wicked mind wandered again.

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