The Sex Test

She swallowed. “I see your point.” She was trying very hard to act cool and professional, but deep inside, oh, how she wanted him to get to know her better. “I live alone just like you.”

“Ah-ha,” he mused aloud. “A single woman interviewing the sex life of a single man. Could hold a lot of intriguing possibilities. Like, what if—”

“The tour?” she reminded him, to get his mind off that train of thought fast.

“Of course, the tour, Professor,” he said, very mannerly but obviously getting a kick out of all this.

But no matter how much she tried, Rachel could barely concentrate on his house. In his spacious hi-tech kitchen, sunlit breakfast area, elegant dining room, floor-to-ceiling library of books, and movie screening room, she saw only Zane.

Because Zane Farrell didn’t seem like a man she’d just met. She felt as if she’d known him for aeons.

“What do you think of the gym?” Zane asked, breaking into her reverie.

The shiny hardwood-floor gym had blue floor mats, weight machines, treadmills, StairMasters, rowing machines, barbells, and stationary bicycles. Small red dumbbells were carelessly strewn on the floor, and she had to sidestep a couple to avoid tripping.

“This place is bigger than my local health club,” she commented.

“It’s unreal, isn’t it?” he agreed.

“You sound like an amazed visitor rather than the owner of this place,” she noted.

“Can’t I appreciate the exquisite sight in front of me?” He was gazing straight at her, as if she was the only sight he was aware of.

She nervously clutched her briefcase and stared down at the gym equipment. For a second, she fantasized Zane, halfnaked, working up a heated sweat with his muscles bulging as he lifted the heavy weights.

“Professor, I suppose you’re viewing this gym in a sexual way,” he said.

“N-not exactly.” Her cheeks flamed, thinking he had lasered into her fantasies.

“Really?” he went on. “I thought you experts say exercise increases sexual endurance.” The roguish glint in his eye made her realize that he was still having fun with her interview. He wasn’t treating it seriously at all.

“Is the need for sexual endurance the reason you pump iron?” she asked, her chin up for battle.

For a split second, she thought she saw him wince at her insinuation. She wished the words hadn’t come out of her mouth so fast.

He tilted his head to one side. “Professor, my pumping is not restricted to bars of metal.” He kiddingly winked at her for emphasis.

Suddenly furious that he was ridiculing her sex research, she quickly stepped back to exit the gym when her foot stumbled over a dumbbell.

“Ohhhhh!” she screamed as she felt herself go flying.

“Rachel!” Zane called out.

Just then, his powerful hands circled her waist and lifted her. With her feet off the ground, she clutched his strapping upper arms to steady herself, feeling the forceful, protective strength of him.

Zane’s firm broad fingers were gripping her body just below her breasts. His large thumbs were pressed up againsteach swell. Suddenly her nipples ached to be squeezed and fondled by him.

Zane’s face was so near she could smell his warm minty breath. His marine eyes focused on her lips.

Her heart jolted, and her pulse pounded. More than anything, she wanted him to kiss her.

She could feel his breath quickening. The muscles of his arms tensed under her palms as he pulled her closer to his hard body. His mouth edged toward hers, and her lips impulsively moved to his.

But as his lips grazed hers, she abruptly became conscious of her unethical behavior. What was she doing? She was a representative of the university, but she was acting like a foolish woman mesmerized by a very sexy man.

Rachel immediately freed herself from Zane’s sturdy grasp and set both feet back on the floor. Maybe she shouldn’t have allowed two years to go by without being with a man. Maybe all her pent-up sexual energy was suddenly letting loose on the very masculine Zane Farrell.

She avoided his confused eyes, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. She grabbed her fallen briefcase and smoothed down her dress, which had risen to her bare thighs.

“This entire interview has been a big joke to you, hasn’t it, Mr. Farrell?” she blurted.

His jaw muscles tensed, momentarily stung by her words. “Is that what you think?”

“Darn right!”

“Am I supposed to act like Joe Serious while you’re questioning my virility?” he shot back. “You’ve been peering at me like I’m some guinea pig for sexual dissection.”

Her eyes widened in red fury. “Then why did you volunteer for the study?”

“I obviously made a tremendous mistake, didn’t I?”

“Are you saying you’re withdrawing your name from this research project?” Her voice was so high-pitched she could barely recognize it. “Because if you are, go right ahead!”

“Fine, Professor Lady!” He abruptly turned to lead her downstairs straight to the double copper doors.

Her hands were sweating against her leather briefcase handle as she hurried after him. What was she saying? She couldn’t afford to lose her first case study. The university’s administration would surely contact him to ask why he’d dropped out of their research project. He’d inevitably tell them that she’d completely ravaged the interview. She couldn’t let him ruin her very first research project!

She bit back her pride for one torturous moment.

“Can’t we discuss this matter more calmly, Mr. Farrell?” she asked, searching for the right words to get him back on track with the study.

“Zane,” he corrected as he stopped walking and faced her.

“Mr. Farrell,” she deliberately stressed.

His sparkling blue eyes grew wide with sudden amusement. Then he threw back his head and roared with laughter.

“What’s so funny?” She impatiently tapped her foot on the floor. Any second, she was out of there, any second.

“Come on, admit it. You still want me to participate in your research. Yet you refuse to acknowledge that we’ve just gotten past phase one.”

“Phase one?” she repeated, glaring at him from the corner of her eyes in defiant confusion.

“The formalities. The awkwardness. The prim-andproper front you’ve put on since you walked through the door.”

“That’s it!” she howled. “I’m gone!”

She almost dropped her briefcase in her scurrying to grab the door handle. Forget impressing the university administration. She would not be insulted by this gargantuan man!