Lead Me On

INEXPLICABLY, A DELICIOUS shiver danced up Margot’s back, just like fingers running over bare skin then stopping at her neck, stroking until the fine hairs stood on heated end. And that wasn’t the only part of her body that responded; she went tight nearly everywhere, from her sensitized nipples to the clenching of her belly.

She also felt a sharp ache between her legs, but she chased it away.

She blew out a breath, wishing her stomach wasn’t all scrambled. Then she turned around to find the one and only Clint Barrows leaning off the edge of the bench seat, his arms resting on his thighs, his cowboy hat tipped back on his head.

A slow melt started inside her as she took in his grin. This wasn’t the college kid she remembered. Not exactly. The Clint Barrows who’d lured her to his room that one night had been cute—no doubts there—but now?

Now he had shoulders this wide under his white T-shirt. And his thighs hadn’t been so muscular under faded jeans. And there was some age to him—smile lines around his light blue eyes and hair that seemed to be an even thicker golden mess under his hat.

Like a fine bourbon, he’d aged well.

Damn him for looking so good. Damn her for feeling a little dizzy just from standing near him.

How...after all these years...?

And, after what he’d done?

“You’ve got some gall,” she said.

He laughed. “Because I’m saying hi?”

She just stared at him. Talk about thickheaded.

“Darlin’,” he said, clearly knowing that she was talking about the video. “Don’t go accusing me of anything. First off, I don’t have the time to be digging through old videos and sharing them with the world. Second, I destroyed that tape.”

“Well, then, I guess it magically came to life again and found itself a cozy home on YouTube. You’re in the clear, Stud.”

He laughed once more, smooth and low, and her clit gave a vicious little twist.

Oh, come on—she hadn’t gone without a man that long. Or maybe she had. Now that she thought about it, it’d been months. She’d been locked away, pounding out a draft of her most recent book, which had given her more trouble than most. The wildness and joy just didn’t come as easily as it used to. Maybe that’s why her book sale numbers were going down....

She lifted a finger at him. “If you’re not here to rub that video in, then why did you show up? I didn’t think reunions would be your scene.”

“Just call it a last-minute decision.”

Cryptic, and so Clint Barrows. And with that grin of his, she wanted to solve whatever mystery he was putting out there.

Or did she?

“Come on,” he said. “Why don’t you just sit down and talk about this.”

“Are you kidding? First, I don’t believe your story. Second, I think we’ll get along much better if I’m on one side of the room and you’re on the other.”

He sighed. “Have it your way, then. For now.”

For now?

Shaking her head, she grabbed her Fendi purse and got out the hand-worked leather wallet she’d bought in Florence once upon a time. Earlier, she’d told the girls she would be taking care of the bar tab, even though she wasn’t sure she could afford many flights of generosity like this in the future.

“So about those baskets...” Clint said.

Once a tease, always a tease.

“Don’t even start.”

“Start what? If you recall, there’re things I start that you have a problem ending.”

“See? Rubbing it in. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

“Give me a chance here, Shakespeare.”

Her libido gave another hot jerk. She’d liked how he used to call her English author names the few times they’d actually talked during parties. He’d amused her—and she’d been turned on that a cowboy had known his literature, to tell the truth.

But that was before she’d found out he’d only wanted to set her up for an adolescent joke.

“You think this is all so funny,” she said.

He sobered and, for a second, she thought he was actually being sincere.

“I don’t think it’s a bit funny. But—”

She slapped her cash on the table and left, even while every cell in her body was pulling her toward his booth, vibrating with the curiosity she hadn’t been able to fully appease on that long-ago night.

But if there was one thing Margot would guard until the end, it was pride.

Luckily, that’s when she heard her name being called from the other side of the bar.

A group of fraternity brothers, including Dani’s fiancé, Riley, had just walked in, and she recognized her ex-boyfriend Brad among them.

Or, at least, she thought she did.

He looked like one of the businessmen at the bar—creased khakis and a crisp, long-sleeved shirt. His dark hair was neatly trimmed, unlike a certain cowboy’s that looked as if he turned tail and ran every time a barber came near.

Brad lifted a hand in greeting to her, giving her a friendly smile. He didn’t seem to care about the video. None of them did, maybe because Riley had told them to back off during their golf game.

Margot waved back, then waited for the rush of heat to swamp her horny body, just as it had with Clint.

Waiting...

Waiting...

It only happened again when she heard Clint’s voice behind her.

“You’d best go to Brad,” he said. “Good ol’ dependable Brad....”

She felt Brad watching her from across the room, and she didn’t want to give him the impression that she was taking up where she’d left off in that video with Clint Barrows.

“You can walk away now,” Clint said. “But I’ll be seeing you later.”