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“Nobody’s ever accused me of being cheap, either.”
She pressed her palm to her chest. “Hold on. This is such a proud moment that I want to savor it.”
“What’s your problem?” he asked, all innocence.
“A man I once respected is offering me money to sleep with him. Let’s start with that.”
“Sleep, Beav. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Right. Like we slept last time?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You were all over me,” she said.
“You wish.”
“You had your hands down my jeans.”
“The overheated imagination of a sex-starved female.”
She wouldn’t let him manipulate her. “You’re sleeping by yourself.”
He set the beer bottle on the floor, rested his weight on one hip, and pulled out his wallet. Without a word, he withdrew two bills and wordlessly fanned them between his fingers.
A pair of fifties.
Chapter Twelve
Half a dozen indignant responses raced through Blue’s mind before she reached the obvious conclusion. She could be bought. Yes, she’d be putting herself in harm’s way, but wasn’t that part of this game they were playing? Finally having money in her wallet justified the risk. Besides, this gave her a chance to show him exactly how immune she was to his charms.
She grabbed the bills. “All right, you rat bastard, you win.” She stuffed the money in her back pocket. “But I’m only taking it because I’m greedy and desperate. And because there’s no door on that room so you can’t get too frisky.”
“Fair enough.”
“I mean it, Dean. If you try to cop even one feel…”
“Me? What about you?” His eyes slid over her like cool icing on hot spice cake. “How about this? Double or nothing.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You touch me first, I keep the hundred. I touch you first, you get two hundred. Nobody touches anybody, the deal stands as is.”
She thought it over, but couldn’t see any immediate loopholes other than the threat of her inner slut emerging, and she could darned well control that littl
e bitch. “Deal.”
“First, though…” She wasn’t spending any more time in that bedroom with him than she had to, so she swiped his beer and propped herself at the opposite end of the bed. “You’re awfully bitter about your parents. I’m beginning to think your childhood was as twisted as mine.”
He brushed his toe against the hollow below her ankle bone. “The difference being that I’ve recovered, and you’re still a fruitcake.”
She moved her foot. “Yet of all the women on the planet, you’ve chosen me to marry.”
“There’s that.” He eased onto one hip and slipped his wallet back in his pocket. “Before I forget…Apparently you’ve now decided we’re going to Paris instead of Hawaii to tie the knot.”
“And why is that?”
“Hey, I’m not the one who can’t make up her mind.”
