“I’ve seen the ads in the Yellow Pages. You know, the ones aimed at traveling businessmen and conventioneers.Discreet personal services offered in the privacy of your hotel room.”
“You know, your sense of humor is as limited as your idea of an evening’s entertainment.”
“Well, what do you expect from a guy who doesn’t have his Ph.D.?”
“Too much, obviously.” She drew up her knees and wrapped her arms around them.
He moved to stand next to her rock. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have teased you like that.”
“Forget it.”
“I’m sure you’ll find your niche or whatever. Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
“Is marriage on your list of personal objectives?”
She glanced up at him, startled. “Well, yes, of course.”
“I guess you’ll probably marry someone like the jerk, right?”
She sighed. “I was never serious about Perry. He was just someone to have fun with this summer.” She wrinkled her nose. “Not that he turned out to be a lot of fun tonight.”
“Definitely not Mr. Right.”
“No.”
“Bet you’ve got a long list of requirements that Mr. Right will have to meet before you agree to marry him, don’t you?”
The dry question made her uncomfortable. “So, I know what I want in a husband. So what? Just because you don’t make long-range plans doesn’t mean everyone else has to play their life by ear.”
“True.” Without warning, he dropped down onto the rock beside her. The movement was easy, almost catlike. “Tell me, what kind of hoops will Mr. Right have to jump through before you’ll agree to marry him?”
Stung, she held up one hand and ticked off the basics. “He’ll be intelligent, well educated, a graduate of a good school, and successful in his field. He’ll also be loyal, honorable, decent, and trustworthy.”
“No criminal record?”
“Definitely no criminal record.” She held up her other hand and continued down the list. “He’ll be dependable, kind, sensitive, and capable of making a commitment. Someone I can talk to. Someone who shares my interests and goals. That’s very important, you know.”
“Uh-huh.”
“He’ll also get along well with my family, love animals, and be very supportive of my career.”
Rafe lounged back on his elbows. “But other than that, just an ordinary guy?”
For some inexplicable reason his mockery hurt. “You think I’m asking too much?”
He smiled faintly. “Get real. The guy you’re looking for doesn’t exist. Or if he does, he’ll have some fatal flaw that you didn’t expect.”
“Is that so?” She narrowed her eyes. “How about your Ms. Right? Got any idea of what she’ll be like?”
“No. Doubt if there is one. Not that it matters.”
“Because you’re not interested in a monogamous commitment?” she asked acidly.
“No, because the men in my family aren’t much good when it comes to marriage. Figure the odds are against me getting lucky.”
She could hardly argue that point. His grandfather’s four spectacularly failed marriages were common knowledge. Rafe’s father, Sinclair, had had two wives before he had engaged in the tumultuous affair with his model that had produced his sons. The assumption was that if he had not died in the motorcycle accident, Sinclair would have racked up a string of divorces and affairs that would have made Mitchell’s record pale in comparison.
