Page 13 of Daring the Bad Boy

on him. Or anyone, she qualified quickly. Because she knew exactly what that was like. “And I certainly wouldn’t have slept with you,” she added for complete clarity.

Goodness, being a bad girl, even for one night, was bloody exhausting.

Cal’s features relaxed and she let go of his arm, a bit too aware of the solid muscle of his forearm, and the delicious scent of sandalwood soap and minty toothpaste.

“I should get back to my class. I need to find another model,” she said a little inanely. “Thanks for bringing back my phone.”

But as she turned to go, he slid his hand into hers and tugged her back around. “Not so fast.” To her astonishment he led her towards the door on the far side of the studio while addressing the class. “Carry on with your pictures, folks. Ms. Smith will be back in a minute.”

“Cal, what are you doing?” she whispered.

“Getting us some privacy.” So saying, he dragged her into the tiny windowless room which had once been a supply closet, but which now doubled as her office, after she’d crammed a desk into the space last year. “This’ll have to do.”

Her heartbeat rabbited under her ribcage. The confined space, even more cramped than usual when he shut the door behind them.

She dug her teeth into her lip, disconcerted when his gaze tracked down to her mouth.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I shouldn’t have run off this morning without writing a note or something. But I had to get to this class, it’s an important one, they’re taking their exam today and I didn’t want to be late. And now Mick isn’t coming, I really don’t have time to…”

His finger touched her lips. “Shhh, Rosie. Don’t apologize again. You’re not the one who walked in here and behaved like a jerk. We’ll figure out a solution to the Mick situation.”

They would. How?

“But I wanted to clear something up first.” The slow sensual smile sent the hum of sensation left by his silencing finger hurtling down to set up shop in her clit, like a high-end vibrator. “How’s the head?”

Her heart clutched at the memory of the pills and the glass of water he’d left beside the bed for her. “Not too bad. Thank you for leaving the painkillers this morning. I was pretty wasted last night.”

“I know,” he said, the smile becoming strangely intimate. “You crashed out on my couch five minutes after you arrived.”

“I… I did? But then how did we…” Make love. In your bed. Together.

“We didn’t,” he said, answering the question she hadn’t been able to ask because of the mortification constricting around her throat. “I carried you upstairs to bed and then spent the night on the couch, nursing a serious case of blue balls.”

Her cheeks burned. But the mocking admission felt wonderful, as well as completely mortifying. Maybe she’d taken her V-Day curse to a whole other level of catastrophe last night, but it still felt good to know she hadn’t had sex with the hottest guy on the planet and then forgotten about it.

“You thought we did?” The amused tone only added to her mortification.

“I wasn’t sure?” she said, squirming.

Damn those bloody strawberry daiquiris. Never, ever again.

“FYI… If we had,” he said, still smiling, “I like to think you would have remembered it.”

The clambering beat of Rosie’s heart kicked up a notch.

Was he going to suggest another hook-up tonight? Awareness charged through her system. Followed swiftly by panic. Did she want him to? Would she be able to seduce this guy sober? Given her terrible track record when it came to good-looking guys.

Or even ugly ones for that matter.

“I’m not very good at this,” she said.

His eyebrow lifted. “Not good at what?”

“At, you know, seduction…” She wheeled her hands, to indicate the two of them. “At hooking up with people… With guys.”

His lips lifted, the smile widening, and he nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“Especially with guys I don’t know. Hot guys. When I’m sober. Or, you know, drunk. I’m no good at this drunk either. Because, last night…” She stopped babbling as he stepped towards her, backing her firmly into the desk.

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