Real Men Don't Break Hearts(13)

She flicked back her hair, her brows drawn into a deep V. “I don’t know and I don’t care.”

“He’s gone? And left you here?”

“I couldn’t take his company anymore, so I told him I’d get a taxi home. He left in a huff.”

“What did he do? Get too hands-on for you?”

She scowled down at her stilettos. “Something like that.” Rubbing her upper arms, she peered up and down the road.

Nate found he was scowling, too. At the thought of Mr. Average sleazing over Ally, touching her against her will. “You want me to beat him up for you?”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’re joking, right?”

“Yeah.” But his blood pressure was up, he realized. He shrugged. “Then again, depends what he did to you. If he forced himself—”

She held up a hand to silence him. “He didn’t do anything except squeeze my knee one time too many. I wasn’t in the mood, so I let him know. Nothing to get all Neanderthal about.”

She was no pushover, he knew. “Did he get the message?”

“Oh, yeah. The nail marks I left on the back of his hand spelled it out for him.”

Nate had a sudden crazy urge to laugh. Breathing out, he jingled the car keys in his hand. “Come on, it’s freezing out here. I’ll give you a lift home.”

“No, I’m okay. I’ve already called for a taxi.”

“Friday nights are the worst for that—you could be waiting here a long time.” He paused, watching the puffs of vapor rising from her mouth. Her long legs, so prettily displayed by her short hem, looked to be covered in goose bumps. The desire to see those legs sliding against the buttery leather of his Maserati snapped Nate hard in the lower abdomen. He curled his hand around his keys, willing himself to remain still.

“I suppose…” She eyed him reluctantly, obviously unhappy at the thought of accepting his help. An unseasonably chilly breeze swept over them, flapping the corners of her light coat. She shivered and stamped her feet. “Okay, then,” she said. “I’ll just ring and cancel my booking.”

A few minutes later they were in Nate’s car and pulling out of the parking lot. Nate shifted up a gear, the Maserati slipping smoothly through the darkness. The illumination from the instrument panel bathed the interior in a subtle green glow. He could see Ally’s legs stretched out against the fine leather grain, her knees just inches from his hand on the gearstick. Her fragrance drifted into his awareness, a gentle, herbaceous scent like warm freshly cut grass.

The evening had started out badly, but now things were looking up. Definitely up.

…

Ally had never thought of herself as materialistic, but she couldn’t resist the opulent luxury of Nate’s Maserati. Cocooned in thousands of dollars’ worth of indulgent hedonism, she felt the tension melting from her muscles, the irritations of her disastrous date growing fuzzy at the edges. Money couldn’t buy you happiness, but it sure made unhappiness a lot easier to bear.

“How did you meet this Paul guy?” Nate suddenly asked, breaking the silence that had fallen ever since they’d driven off.

She started, before making herself relax. The bucket seats surrounded her in comfort, and she wanted to remain that way. “Actually, it was a blind date,” she confessed.

“A blind date!” A deep chuckle rumbled out of him.

She sighed. “Yes, yes, very amusing.”

He choked down his laughter. “Sorry.” He shot her a glinting look. “So he got too friendly? Broke one of your rules for first dates?”

“I don’t have rules for first dates.”

“Don’t you?” His look became speculative.

“Of course not.” She paused. “Oh, but I’m forgetting—according to you I’m a prissy Goody Two-shoes, so therefore I must have rules for first dates.”

Nate pulled a face. “I thought I’d already apologized for that.”

“For your information, I merely expect some respect on a first date. That and a little sensitivity as to what I might or might not want.”

He nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“It’s not too much to ask for, is it?” She blew out a sigh, exasperated as she recalled the night’s events. After the awkward slow dance, Paul had ordered margaritas and suddenly grown bolder. He’d started to paw at her hand, leer at her cleavage, and drop awful double entendres. She’d tried to keep her cool, but his ham-fisted fumbling of her thigh under the table had been the last straw. She’d dug her nails into his hand, making him squeal, and told him in her iciest tone to get lost.

Nate said, “I don’t know a thing about the guy, but I saw the two of you dancing that slow number.”

She tensed, discomfited by the thought of Nate watching her with Paul. “And?”

“And you looked like you were holding him off. Plus, as soon as the song ended, you made a dash for the restroom. You really didn’t want to be with him.”

With a sigh, she rested her elbow against the armrest and tunneled her fingers through her hair. Yes, even before Paul had started slavering over her she’d been bored; she had been twenty minutes into the date. But why?

“He’s single, good-looking, has a steady job at the council, and he visits his grandma every week. Even though he morphed into a sleazebag, do you know how many women would kill to meet someone like that?”

“All irrelevant if there’s no spark between you.” Nate snapped his fingers. “Spark, chemistry, je ne sais quoi, whatever you want to call it. If it’s not there, then you may as well forget everything else.”

She frowned. “Aren’t you just talking about sexual attraction?”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”

Her heart beat faster. When it came to sexual attraction, Nate was unfairly well endowed. She cleared her throat nervously. “I don’t know if it’s a good basis for a long-term relationship, though.”

He shook his head. “Who said anything about long-term?”

She contemplated him, aware of the steeliness that had entered his voice. His profile, reflected against his dark window, was handsome but lofty and inaccessible. In the past she’d always dismissed him as the good-looking but shallow, hell-raising lout who’d damaged her relationship with Seth, but now she wondered if perhaps there wasn’t something more behind his deliberately unattached lifestyle.

“You don’t believe in proper, committed relationships, do you?”

He threw her a look as arid as the desert. “If people want to delude themselves, then that’s their problem.”

“And what about Seth and Paige’s wedding? Are you going to try and stop that one, too?”

He clamped his jaw. “No.”

“I see.” Her throat closed up. “I wasn’t good enough for Seth but Paige is.”

“What?” He slowed the car sharply, his face all cut angles in the dimness. “Is that what you think?”

“You can’t deny you tried to break up Seth and me.”

He squeezed the steering wheel. “Okay, I don’t deny that,” he said slowly through gritted teeth. “I thought Seth was crazy to tie himself down to one girl—”

“Oh, how—”

“But I never said you weren’t good enough for him. I told him he was way too young, that he should live a little before—”

“Shackling himself for life?”

He glowered at her, but he didn’t refute her words. “That was then. Seth is a grown man now. He’s old enough to know his own mind and to live by his decisions.”

Her windpipe ached as anger boiled up. “And six years ago you knew enough to make up Seth’s mind for him? Your arrogance is breathtaking. You think you know what’s best for everyone, but you don’t. It may come as a big surprise to you, Nate, but not everyone wants to be like you.”

She halted, breath heaving, appalled at her outburst. Where had all that come from? Nate pulled the car hard onto the shoulder of the road, gravel spitting as he braked. He turned to her, harsh and flinty eyed.

“Is that how you see me?” he snapped.

The confines of the cabin pressed down on them, a cage of glass and steel. Her heart skipped several beats. Why had she gotten so mad at him? Not because of Seth. No, more because of Nate’s opinion of her. She hauled in a breath, appalled by the realization. But it was true—she cared what he thought of her.

“Look, I don’t know why we’re arguing over Seth,” she said hurriedly. “It’s all in the past, so—so let’s forget what I just said about you.”

“But you’re right. I don’t know everything.” Pressing his head back against the seat, he exhaled a long breath. “Christ, the older I get, the less I seem to know. I’m moving back to Burronga, and I’ve no idea whether it’s a brilliant idea or the dumbest one I’ve ever had.”

She eyed him cautiously. “You’re really moving back? It wasn’t just an off-the-cuff remark to rile me up?”

“Ally, everything I do riles you up.” His look turned wry.

She gave a rueful laugh. “To be honest, I can’t see you lasting here.”