Page 10 of The Playboy Meets His Match
She nodded again, left his room and went to hers, closing the door behind her. She showered and washed her hair. She found a dryer and dried her hair. It had a natural curl and was unruly, but tonight she didn’t care. She pulled on a navy T-shirt and slipped back into her sweatpants and then left to find him, returning to an empty family room and then going to the kitchen where he was making sandwiches.
He glanced over his shoulder and then turned to look more carefully at her, and she wished she were back in the lumpy sweatshirt. The T-shirt clung, and the look he was giving her was making her tingle all over.
“My goodness, Meredith, you clean up good.”
“My friends call me Merry,” she said breathlessly, knowing she needed to re-engage her brain. The man was definitely not one of her friends. Nor would he ever be one.
He crossed the room to her, stopping only inches away, and she hoped he couldn’t hear her drumming heartbeat.
“So we’re going to be friends,” he drawled in that deep, sexy voice. He reached out to touch her hair, letting locks slide through his fingers, and she was aware of the faint contact. “That’s interesting.”
“I spoke before I thought,” she admitted.
“You don’t want to be friends?”
“I don’t think it’s possible.”
He focused on her face, moved closer and tilted up her chin. She was too aware of his finger holding her chin, too aware of all of him. “I am sorry about your scraped cheek and hands. You shouldn’t ever have something like that happen. I hate that I caused your scrapes and bruises. I’m sorry.”
“You should be,” she said, wishing he would move away, but unable to move herself. Another one of his riveting looks nailed her and she gazed back, too aware of the silence stretching between them. “You’re standing too close,” she said, aware she was hemmed in by him and the kitchen cabinets behind her.
“I am? I disturb you?”
“You’re not adding me to your list of broken hearts, Jason, so just move back and give me room.”
“All those challenges,” he said quietly without moving an inch, placing his hands on the cabinets on both sides of her and moving even closer. “Now do you really expect me to ignore them?” he asked softly. “You’re the one who brought them up.”
“I didn’t mean any of them as challenges to you. I’m not impressed. I’m not interested. I don’t want to go to dinner or anything else with you.”
“You might hurt my feelings.”
“There’s no way I can do that,” she said, finding every word more difficult to get out. He stood entirely too close and he was entirely too handsome. And she was being far less than truthful when she told him she wasn’t impressed. Oh, my. She’d bet the house that his kisses would melt any recipient into a bubbling blob.
“I have a heart that can be broken just like anyone else’s.”
“I think your heart is locked away behind impervious armor and no woman will ever get to touch it.”
He ran his finger along her throat, a faint touch that sizzled. “I’m not invincible.”
“I don’t care to find out. I think you said we were going to drink something,” she reminded him, trying to look away and glancing first at his mouth, fleetingly wondering what it would be like to kiss him. Why would she wonder something like that about a man like Jason Windover? Had her brain gone completely to mush?
“Oh, sure,” he answered as if that were the last thing on his mind. “What would you like?”
“Just some pop.”
He moved away, and she could breathe again. Watching him as he walked around the kitchen, she was thankful his attention had shifted from her. He brought her pop poured over ice in a tall glass, and he carried another beer and she hoped it would knock him out for the night, yet he had a way of slowly sipping them that made them last.
Finally they were settled back on the sofa in the family room. Jason sat too close with one arm stretched on the back of the sofa and one leg bent, his knee on the sofa only inches from her thigh. He offered her a sandwich which she declined. He helped himself.
“I think you should forget about Dorian and go home,” he said, taking a bite of his cheese sandwich.
“Maybe so.”
“You don’t mean that. You’re just patronizing me until I’m out of your sight. You can’t change him. You can’t accomplish anything. You’re just a fly buzzing around his head annoying him.”
“Maybe that’s all, but he deserves to be annoyed.”
“Merry, I said it before and I’ll say it again. Women have jilted men and broken their hearts. Men have jilted women and broken their hearts. When it isn’t a deep commitment, you just pick up and get over it.”
