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“Right. It’s referred to, but I haven’t read that particular book.”
“First of the series,” he explained. “Skiing accident. He challenged her to a downhill race, and she crashed into a tree. Autopsy revealed she was several weeks pregnant. They hadn’t known. You should read it.”
“I definitely will.” She tapped the spoon against her front teeth. “Do you see how the author built in a reason for Deck’s vulnerability? Readers can empathize with him because of that tragic and fatal accident.”
“You’re sounding like an editor.”
She laughed. “Habit, I guess.”
“You’ve given it a lot of thought.”
“I analyze every bestseller. Especially the competition’s. I need to know why Deck Cayton strikes such a positive chord. Part of my job is trying to predict what the buying public wants to read.”
She polished off her cobbler. “But that doesn’t make me any less a fan. Character motivation notwithstanding, Deck is your basic larger-than-life action hero who never fails to solve the mystery, nab the bad guy, bed the babe.”
“And make her come.”
Maris closed the book with a decisive snap and replaced it on the shelf among the others. He’d only said that to provoke her, and it had worked. But damned if she would let it show. “As I said, he appeals to men and women alike.”
Her understatement made him grin, but he let it pass without comment. “Which was your favorite of the series?”
“Loose Change.”
He grimaced. “Seriously? In that book Deck came dangerously close to being a wimp.”
“Because he showed more sensitivity toward the female character?”
Scornfully, Parker placed his hands over his heart. “He got in touch with his feminine side.”
“But he soon reasserted himself as a real cad. By the end of the book, he was back to being the smooth operator that every man fantasizes being.”
“Did he live up to your fantasy?”
“Deck Cayton?”
“Your husband. His book acted like a spark plug to your fantasy life. Did his performance in bed—does it—live up to your expectations?”
She faced him squarely. “Parker, that is an inappropriate question.”
“That means it doesn’t.”
“That means it’s none of your business. Your curiosity over my personal life is out of line. Which is precisely why I avoided being alone with you last night and all day today. What happened in the gin made me uncomfortable. I’m married.”
“What happened in the gin? I don’t remember anything happening in the gin that would compromise you as a married woman.”
His feigned innocence infuriated her, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing it. She changed tactics and assumed an air of indifference as she returned her empty bowl to the tray on the table.
“You attached far too much significance to that kiss, Parker. You asked why I allowed it, and since you seem confused on that point, let me clarify. I allowed it because fighting you off would have been undignified and embarrassing for both of us. A glorified golf cart is no place to conduct a wrestling match to protect my virtue. And don’t for a moment delude yourself into thinking I was afraid of you.” She shot him an arch look. “I could’ve outrun you.”
“Ouch! That one hurt, Maris. Now you’re fighting dirty.”
“Which is the only kind of fighting I think you understand.”
“It’s the only kind of fighting, period.”
“In other words, what’s the point of fighting if you don’t fight to win?”
“Damn straight,” he said tightly. “Win at all costs. No matter what it takes, no matter what you have to do. I learned—or rather was taught—that lesson. If you want to come out on top, you must be willing to go the distance.”
