Page 64 of Match Me If You Can (Chicago Stars 6)

She dug her fingernails into her palms. “As far as I’m concerned, it never happened.”

“It happened all right.” He turned toward her, and the tough note in his voice told her the Python had uncoiled. “I know the way you think, and that wasn’t some big, unforgivable sin.”

Her composure dissolved. “I’m your matchmaker!”

“Right. A matchmaker. You didn’t have to swear a Hippocratic oath to get your business card.”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“You’re single; I’m single. It wouldn’t have been the end of the world if we’d seen this through.”

She couldn’t believe she’d heard him right. “It would have been the end of my world.”

“I was afraid of this.”

His mildly exasperated air pushed her over the edge, and she stomped toward him. “I should never have let you come with me this weekend! I knew it was a bad idea from the beginning.”

“It was a great idea, and no harm’s been done. We’re two healthy, unattached, reasonably sane adults. We have fun together, and don’t even try to deny that.”

“Yeah, I’m a great buddy, all right.”

“Believe me, tonight I wasn’t thinking of you as a buddy.”

That threw her totally off stride, but she recovered quickly. “If another woman had been around, this would never have happened.”

“Whatever you’re trying to say, just spit it out.”

“Come on, Heath. I’m not blond, leggy, or stacked. I was the default setting. Even my ex-fiancé never said I was sexy.”

“Your ex-fiancé wears lipstick, so I wouldn’t take that to heart. I promise, Annabelle, you’re very sexy. That hair…”

“Do not start in on my hair. I was born with it, okay. It’s like making fun of someone with a birth defect.”

She heard him sigh. “We’re talking about simple physical attraction brought on by some moonlight, a little dancing, and too much liquor,” he said. “Do you agree that’s what this is?”

“I guess.”

“Basic physical attraction.”

“I suppose.”

“I don’t know about you,” he said, “but it’s been a long time since I’ve had such a good time.”

“Okay, I’ll admit it was fun. The dancing,” she added hastily.

“Damned right it was. So we got a little carried away. Nothing more than circumstances, right?”

Pride and self-respect dictated that she agree. “Of course.”

“Circumstances …and a little animal instinct.” His huskier pitch began to sound almost seductive. “Nothing to get worked up about. Are you with me?”

He was throwing her off stride, but she nodded.

He moved closer, his gravelly whisper a rasp over her skin. “Perfectly understandable, right?”

“Right.” She was still nodding, almost as if he’d mesmerized her.

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

---