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No one had ever called him on it before. “I’ve never had any complaints.” He cocked his head and regarded her. “Why aren’t you falling for it?”
Her lashes lowered, concealing the secrets in her eyes. “Because I’m wise to your type.”
“My type?” Unsure whether to be amused or annoyed, he prompted, “What type is that?”
“Bad boys.”
“How is it you’re immune?”
“Fool me once, shame on you,” she quipped. “Fool me twice, shame on me.”
“The best way to learn is by making mistakes.”
“And yet I continue to make them. It’s pretty apparent I have terrible judgment where men are concerned.”
This intrigued him. She gave the appearance of a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and went after it. “Forgive me if I don’t believe that.”
“It’s true.” She twirled the diamond ring on her finger, but he could see her mind was far from the jewelry. “In high school, college and a year ago. The last one was the worst. I really believed if I loved him enough he would settle down and want to be a husband and a father.” A harsh laugh broke from her, filled with self-loathing. “It was idiotic of me to believe he could change, that he might care enough about me to change. A scorpion is a scorpion. They behave according to their nature.”
“If you want to get married and have kids why not pick the sort of man that wants the same thing?”
“Because those aren’t the ones I’m attracted to.” Her eyes were cool as they met his. “As much as I fought against it, I couldn’t stop falling for unavailable men. The ones who don’t show up when they’re supposed to. Who forget to call you. Can’t remember birthdays or special occasions.”
Roark knew he’d been guilty of every one of those things at one point or another. How many women had become disillusioned with love because of him?
“But despite every disappointment, I didn’t leave because occasionally there’s a brief, exciting moment when he’d focus on me and for a while everything would be all right. And when the moment ended, I would spend all my energy trying to make it happen again. Eventually I decided that if the only man I want is bad for me, I’m just not going to be with anyone.”
The shadows in her eyes bothered him. “I’m sorry those men hurt you.”
She shrugged. “I let it happen. But never again. I’m done with bad boys. Done with disappointment. From now on, I’m going to focus on what I want. A fabulous career and motherhood.”
And heaven help the man that got in the way.
* * *
Still disturbingly light-headed from Roark’s intoxicating kiss, Elizabeth wiggled into the strapless silver sheath she’d bought for her “engagement” party, wondering what had possessed her to lay out her past romantic troubles for Roark. She could have acted the part of his fiancée for six months and kept things strictly business between them. Instead, she’d been so rattled by his seductive power that she’d been compelled to toss an overabundance of obstacles in his path.
She was a fool for panicking.
Flirting was like breathing to a playboy like Roark. As natural to him as following a scent was to a hound. She needn’t worry about being the target of his chase. They had a business arrangement. She would just have to keep reminding him about that.
Hair up or down? She regarded her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she smoothed a comb through her blond curls. Did her eyes seem brighter tonight? Perhaps she was dazzled by the size of the diamond on her left hand? She admired the ring. Its heavy awkwardness on her finger reminded her of the weight of what she was doing with Roark. No one must suspect they weren’t a happily engaged couple.
Could she put on a good enough show?
Lying wasn’t something that came easy to her. Maybe if she simply lost herself in the fantasy of being the woman he adored. At least for a few hours a couple nights a week. As long as she lived in the real world by day, everything should work out just fine.
Or so she hoped.
Roark’s guests had arrived while she primped. If
she’d lingered overly long over her appearance, she could blame it on wanting to make a good impression on his friends. But in fact, she was grappling with her conscience and a minor case of nerves.
This would be the first party she’d organized where remaining invisible wasn’t part of her job description. It was an odd sensation to walk into a room full of people and feel a dozen pairs of eyes bore into her.
As if aware of her discomfort, Roark intercepted her before she’d taken three steps into the room. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her lightly on the mouth.
“Breathtaking,” he murmured, following up the first brush of his lips with a second, less fleeting contact. “Let’s tell everyone to go home so I can have you all to myself.”
