This intrigue, this interest on both their parts, this sort of anticipation hanging in the air between them, was something she had zero experience with. So she stared at him, totally flustered, for a long, drawn-out second, then said, "Yeah. You, too." Which made no sense at all, which embarrassed her and confused her even more. Feeling like she'd suddenly regressed to the shy sixteen-year-old she'd been, she gave him a quick smile, turned, and tried to walk, not run, away from him, with her heart pounding and her palms sweating.
"What the hell was that?" she muttered to herself in complete disgust.
That was her libido leaping back to life without warning for the first cute guy who looked her way.
She suddenly knew that there was no putting off dealing with Geoffrey. Given that in two minutes standing next to Elec, a man she didn't know from Adam, she'd had more sexual stirrings than she had in a solid month with Geoffrey, including the times he'd been pulling out all the stops à la oral sex, she couldn't even wait until tomorrow to break up with him.
Geoffrey had been a colossal mistake and she needed to rectify it, immediately. Then get her own hotel room so that she could stare at the ceiling and picture what it would be like to have Elec over her, naked, his dark eyes flickering over her body, his fingers trailing across her . . .
Lord. Tamara fanned herself. What the hell had she been doing?
Right. Finding Geoffrey.
TAMARA waited for Geoffrey to say something to the careful words she'd just delivered to him, explaining how she wasn't ready to date after all, that she respected him as a friend, and felt she'd made a mistake in rushing their relationship. It had sounded good to her.
Believable. It was the truth, if not the whole truth.
But Geoffrey was staring at her like she'd just said something in pig Latin, and she stared back, itching to take tweezers to those gray eyebrow hairs that poked out at random intervals from the rest of his brown brow. One, two, three, four . . . Tamara lost her place and started counting again. Dang, that was a lot of hairs that needed yanking.
"It's the money, isn't it?" he asked. "I should have expected that, but I confess, I'm still disappointed."
"What?" She dragged her eyes from his runaway eyebrow hairs and met his disappointed gaze, wondering what he was talking about.
"I know I can't keep you in the lifestyle you're accustomed to."
Was he joking? She could give a rat's ass about his money. She had her own income, had Pete's estate, and yet she still lived modestly, because labels and a fancy lifestyle weren't important to her. Never had been. Her handbag cost fifteen bucks at Target. When had she ever given off a vibe that she was high maintenance?
"It's not about money, Geoffrey. I just don't think we're well suited to each other as more than friends. I like you as a person, but I just don't think we're more than that."
"You came here tonight, didn't you, and it reminded you of how you miss all of this-the champagne, the parties, the track, the money."
Um . . . no. What she had realized during the course of the night was that Geoffrey wasn't a man she felt one ounce of sexual attraction to. And now she was doubting that she even liked him at all, period, given he seemed to think she was a gold-digging high roller.
"No. I realized that our relationship isn't going to work," she said firmly, no longer feeling an ounce of guilt that she was having this conversation with him by the empty coat check at the cocktail party. He was deliberately being obtuse.
"I don't think it is either," he said with disdain. "You're not the person I thought you were.
I think it would be better if you stayed somewhere else tonight."
You bet she was staying in a different hotel room than him, the pompous ass. "If that's what you prefer."
"Unless you want one last night together," he said, looking suddenly hopeful.
Tamara felt her mouth drop open. He had to be joking. He thought she was a greedy name-dropper, yet he was willing to overlook that for a little nookie?
Like there was anything even remotely tempting about that for her, even if she ignored the fact that it was totally insulting.
Calculating that she'd left nothing in his hotel room except for an overnight bag with toiletries and a pair of jeans and a cotton shirt to wear to the race, she threw her shoulders back and glared at him. She could sacrifice her facial cleanser and a T-shirt to be done with him even sooner.
"I'd rather get my own room and spend the night alone," she said. "At least that way I might have a crack at having an orgasm. See you at the next department meeting, Geoffrey." She turned and stomped off, ignoring his spluttering protest.
She'd find Suzanne and beg her for a ride home, since Geoffrey had driven Tamara the forty-five minutes from her house to Charlotte. Or maybe she'd just get a room in the hotel the cocktail party was in and deal with a ride to the track in the morning, which sounded easier than going home. And she was definitely in no shape to drive as a result of the wine, though she supposed she could grab a cab to take her all the way home even if it would be pricey.
Tamara stopped midstride. Where the hell was her purse? She could have sworn she'd been carrying it all night, but now she had no idea what she'd done with it, and she was starting to think she should have eased up on the wine. Not having any cash or credit cards might be a serious problem.
"You alright, Tammy?"
She turned and saw Ryder Jefferson, Suzanne's ex-husband and one of Pete's best friends, standing next to her, looking handsome and full of testosterone. Tamara could see Suzanne's issues after spending nearly a decade with manly-man Ryder. "Hey, Ryder. I just broke up with that idiot I brought here and now I don't have a hotel room to stay in and I can't find my purse."
Still too annoyed to be concerned yet, she glanced around for her purse. It was hot pink, to offset her black dress and give her outfit a more summery look since it was May. How hard could it be to find a pink purse?
"I'm sorry," he said. Then Ryder gave her a grin. "Okay, not that you ditched the professor.
He's dead boring, Tammy, and he doesn't know a damn thing about racing, or any sports for that matter. When he brought up his collection of antique thimbles, I thought about asking him to turn in his man card, but didn't out of respect for you."
A pang of embarrassment further flushed her cheeks. She probably looked downright feverish at this point, and she just wanted to get the hell out of there. Her day was officially and monumentally in the toilet. "Thanks, but you're free to say whatever you want from here on out since he just called me a gold digger."
Ryder raised an eyebrow. "What? You? That's ridiculous. You can squeeze a dime like nobody's business."
That was probably meant to be a compliment so she would just take it as such. "Anyway, I need to find my purse so I can get a hotel room."
"No need for you to get a room. Stay in my coach at the track." He winked. "I won't be needing it tonight. I have plans at my condo."
"With who?" Even as the words left her mouth, Tamara threw her hand up, realizing she really didn't want to hear his answer. "No, never mind. I don't want to know because if I know, then I have to tell Suzanne, and I don't want to go there."
He frowned. "Why would Suzanne care? She divorced me, remember? I doubt she's sleeping alone tonight either."
Tamara wasn't touching that one, since she knew Suzanne was in fact not sleeping with anyone, but who knew? Maybe Suz wanted her ex to think she had a string of able-bodied men in her bed. Better to keep her lips zipped and stay out of it. "You sure you don't care if I crash at your place? I don't want to start rumors."
"If I'm not there, how can there possibly be rumors? Come on, let's look for your purse, then we'll grab you a cab."
Biting her lip, she followed Ryder around the room. There was no sign of her purse, and she started to wonder if she'd even brought it in with her. She'd been so stressed out all night, she was no longer clear on if she'd even had it when she'd arrived. After ten minutes of searching, she was panicking, but Ryder took her by the arm and led her out of the room.
"Tammy, relax. It's no big deal. I'll let the hotel know it's missing, and tomorrow if we still can't find it, you can cancel all your cards." He was talking and walking, leading her straight to the front door. "Now I think you need to just go back to my place and crash out.