“You haven’t answered my question.”
“I know. But I can answer it better after we’ve gone over your chart. Are you willing to wait until then?”
“Guess I’ll have to.” He stood and laid the paper on the desk. “I can’t very well tie you up and torture you until you answer me. And besides, as you pointed out, our dinner is here.”
She was extremely grateful for that distraction, too. The next few minutes were spent setting up their eating arrangement and paying the bill, which Nolan insisted on charging to his room. They positioned the cart so Darcie sat on the bed and Nolan pulled up the desk chair on the other side.
Before leaving, the waiter opened the second bottle of wine and poured a little of it into one of the goblets that had arrived with dinner. Apparently he’d chosen to ignore the identical bottle sitting on the desk as he handed the glass to Nolan for a taste test. When Nolan nodded his approval, the waiter filled both goblets from the new bottle, lit the candle in the middle of the linen-draped cart, and left.
When they were alone again and settled on either side of the cart, Darcie surveyed the romantic display, which also included a small vase of miniature roses. “Did you order it like this?”
“They asked if it was a special occasion and I said yes.”
Touched by that, she unfolded her napkin on her lap. “Well, thank you. It’s lovely.”
“You’re welcome.” He picked up his napkin. “So, did you want to tell me more about my chart while we have dinner?”
“Actually, no. It’s hard to do a reading and eat at the same time. Let’s just talk.”
“About what?”
“Well, you know what I’ve been doing all day. What have you been up to?”
“Your psychic abilities haven’t told you that?”
“Hey.”
He shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re capable of tapping into. I’m new at this stuff.”
“Okay, because I’m psychic, I’m able to sense when things might happen, but I’m not a mind reader.”
“Did you know room service was about to arrive?”
“No, because it wasn’t important or threatening. If an ax murderer had been coming down the hall, the tiny hairs on my arms and the back of my neck would have stood straight up.”
“Really?” That seemed to fascinate him. “So you’re like a drug-sniffing dog?”
She smiled. Despite his new sophistication, he was still a nerd who would occasionally make nerdy comments and never dream they’d give offense. Because she loved dogs and admired the drug-sniffing ones, she wasn’t at all offended, but some women might not relish the comparison. “I get your point, but they’re using their sense of smell, not their psychic powers.”
“True.”
“And after all that discussion, I still don’t know what you spent your time doing today.”
He put down his wine glass and reached in his back pocket. “Geeking out.” He tossed over a business card with a signature scrawled across it.
She picked it up but didn’t recognize the name. “Should I know who this is?”
“Absolutely. He was on Star Trek: The Next Generation.”
“Never watched it.”
He clutched his heart and gasped dramatically. “Talk about my lack of significant knowledge. You’ve never watched a single episode?”
“Nope.”
“Now, that’s shocking.”
“But I’m willing to be educated.”
He laughed, and those dimples flashed. “Then you’ve come to the right place. I happen to own every season.”
The implication that they might watch those episodes together tantalized her. She could picture a cozy sofa, some snacks, and snuggling with her space geek. “So who else did you meet?”
“Tons of people.” He proceeded to describe his afternoon as they ate their meal. “Good thing my friend Bill has kids.” He emptied the wine bottle into both of their glasses. “That gave us the perfect excuse to stalk our favorite stars. To our surprise, the stars wanted to hang out with us. The Mars project impresses the heck out of them for some reason.”
“Of course it does. I’m impressed, too.”
“Guess so, since you came all the way from Ojai to meet me.” He pushed aside his empty plate and picked up his wine glass.
“Don’t go getting a swelled head. It’s not such a long way, less than a two-hour drive.” She returned her attention to her plate, where she had a little pasta left.
“Maybe so, but it was still a bold move, and I can’t pretend I’m not flattered.” The timbre of his voice changed slightly. “And turned on.”
She glanced up to find him watching her with an intensity that curled her toes. “Oh.” She picked up her wine and took a quick gulp.
“At first I believed that you were merely curious and that talking to me about your astrology studies might be an experiment. I still thought that until we started going over the chart and you flirted with me.”
She couldn’t deny doing that so she remained silent to see if he had more to say.
He swirled the wine in his glass. “It’s no secret that I was crazy about you in high school. This morning in the coffee shop I confessed that you were my dream girl and I didn’t want to blow this chance to spend time with you.”
She nodded. His passionate speech had jump-started a hormonal response that had faded a little during their separation but was ramping up quickly now.
“When it comes to women, I’m usually more careful about showing my hand, but I felt I needed to say what I did to keep you from leaving. And it worked. Here we are, having dinner together in your hotel room.”
“That was so no one would see you having your chart read by an astrologer.”
He gave her a long, assessing look. “And that’s all there is to it?”
Her breathing quickened. “For now.”
“I don’t know what that means. What’s now? Is it the next two minutes? The next two hours? The next two days?”
If her pulse hadn’t been racing, she would have found his need for precision fascinating and so in keeping with his profile. Instead she wanted to shove the cart away, grab him, and kiss that incredibly sensuous mouth.
“The bottom line here, Darcie, is whether or not this is a game for you.”
“I –”
“You can tell me the truth, because I’m not leaving either way. I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give. Just lay out the parameters so I’ll know where I stand.”
“No parameters.” Her reply was breathy with excitement, giving her away, but she couldn’t help it. “The sky’s the limit.” She didn’t know if that would be good news. He probably liked parameters, but he also had a daredevil streak. Maybe that would kick in.
Heat flared once again in those gray eyes. “Is that a challenge?”
She dragged in a shaky breath. “Do you want it to be?”
Chapter Five
To his total amazement, Nolan had been handed control of a sexual situation by the woman he’d desired since he was a scrawny nerd of fourteen. Because he was no longer fourteen, he recognized an aroused female when he saw one. Miracle of miracles, Darcie Ingram wanted him.
And he wanted her. No surprise there. The dinner cart shielded her view of how much he wanted her, but the denim fly of his jeans was stretched painfully across the evidence of his intense longing. He’d never imagined this scene was remotely possible, and yet here he was with only a dinner cart between him and a flushed and willing Darcie, who was presently sitting on a king-sized bed.
Pushing aside the dinner cart and acting on that mutual impulse to have sex would be so easy. He’d even been crass enough to buy condoms today and tuck one in his pocket before walking to her room. Nothing stood in the way of making all his adolescent dreams come true.
Well, nothing except the fact that grabbing her now would be extremely adolescent, and he liked to believe that he had more class than that at the age of thirty-two. He liked to bel
ieve he had more control, more ability to savor the moment and take everything in its own time.
He blew out a breath and willed his erection to subside. “No, I don’t want it to be a challenge. And believe me, a few seconds ago I considered making it into one that would justify . . .”
“Having sex with me?”
“Yeah. But it’s too soon.” He looked into her eyes and saw approval there. Good. He’d made the right choice. Even though she would have welcomed him into her bed, it wasn’t the right time for that move. “But I want a rain check.”
That made her laugh. “I’ll be glad to give you a rain check.”
“We need to get to know each other first.”
“We do.”
“Then why did you . . . why offer me the opportunity?”
“It’s complicated.” She picked up her wine glass and drained the contents. “Maybe on some level I feel as if I owe you, at least a little bit.”
He groaned. “Please don’t tell me you were prepared to give me a pity f—”
“No, I was not going to give you a PF! I was just as excited as you were.”
“Probably not.”
“That isn’t something we’ll ever know, but I definitely was ready to go for it, even though you’re right. It’s too early, especially in your case.”
“My case? Why should I be special?”
“Because after spending most of the day boning up on you, I –”
He started to laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“Do you suppose you could find a different phrase?”
She looked puzzled, but then she grinned. “After spending most of the day learning about you.”
“Much better.”
“I know way more about you than you do about me. I wouldn’t be going to bed with a virtual stranger, whereas you essentially would be.”
“We can fix that really fast.”
“Oh? How?
He loved it when brilliant ideas popped into his head, even when he’d had two-thirds of a bottle of wine, maybe more. He tried not to be vain about his smarts, but damn, he was good. “I’ll bet your birth chart’s on that computer.”
She blinked, clearly startled by the suggestion. “It is, but you don’t believe in astrology.”
“I don’t have to. You’ll interpret your chart with the information you know to be true about yourself, so I can’t ask for a better self-analysis than that.” He sat back in the chair feeling very smug.
“I guess that makes sense. All right. I’ll show you mine.”
“That sounded sort of dirty.”
“Only because of where your mind is.”
“Touché.” He was having fun. He couldn’t remember when he’d had more fun.
“We need to move the cart so I can get out. I’m trapped back here.”
“Oh, right.” Maybe his brain wasn’t working as well as he thought. Scooting back the desk chair, he moved the cart away from the bed. “I’ll put this out in the hall while you print out your chart.”
“Okay, but keep the roses.”
“I will.” He grabbed the vase and put it on her bedside table. Then he started wheeling the cart toward the door immediately because he needed the distraction from the lustful thoughts that had started the minute the cart was no longer an obstacle between them.
He knew enough basic psychology to understand why he’d be ready to roll even though he didn’t have a complete personality profile on her. Men typically didn’t need that kind of info before sex, whereas women tended to want it. Not all of them, though. He was a twenty-first century male and knew better than to make sweeping generalizations about either gender.
But he’d also taken a class in anthropology for the hell of it, and that had educated him about cultural mating habits. Bill’s hypothesis about women dating bad boys until they needed a steady guy to help them raise the kids was likely true. Therefore a woman, especially one thinking about settling down, would want to know everything she could about the man she had sex with.
But even if he didn’t share those instincts, he was an educated, rational male creature who realized that mindless copulating would leave him feeling . . . terrific. Oh, hell, he’d talked himself out of accepting her unspoken invitation to sleep with her. Was he stupid or what?
She obviously had all the personal information she needed to make that a worthwhile experience. If he didn’t, he could have caught up later! He was officially an idiot who didn’t deserve to have sex with Darcie Ingram, because instead of kissing her senseless, he’d asked to see her damned birth chart.
By the time he’d positioned the cart out in the hall, come back into the room and flipped the security lock on the door, he was cursing himself for being a fool. Any other guy would be in bed with a naked Darcie by now. Not Dr. Nolan Bradbury. Oh, no. He required an astrological birth chart before he took the plunge.
He noticed that she pulled two sheets of paper out of the printer instead of only one. “You have two charts?”
“The other one’s my transit chart. It’s not important right now.”
“What’s a transit chart?” Yeah, he’d have to ask that instead of taking both charts out of her hands and pulling her into his arms. What a doofus.
“A transit chart describes what’s going on in a person’s life now and what might happen in the future.”
In for a penny, in for a pound. “I might as well hear about that, too.”
“You mean mine or yours?”
“What do you mean, mine or yours? Do I have a transit chart?”
Her cheeks turned pink. “I had some extra time, so I created one for you. I wasn’t going to say anything about that until . . . well, depending on how the birth chart discussion ended up and whether you were open to more information.”
He felt as if he’d fallen down the rabbit hole, but he didn’t think she’d appreciate that comparison so he kept it to himself. “So what we have is a birth chart for each of us, and a . . . transit chart? Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“A transit chart for each of us.” He started to add what more could you want? But that would be sarcastic and he was trying very hard not to be a jerk about a subject she held dear. If someone mocked his team’s efforts to colonize Mars, he wouldn’t like that. He needed to remember that these charts represented reality to her in the way that space travel represented reality to him. Some people scoffed at both things. He resolved not to be a scoffer.
“Let’s have you sit down in the easy chair again.”
“Okay. There’s wine left. I kept the goblets. Want some?”
“A little. I need to concentrate.”
There wasn’t much left, so he divided up what was in the bottle sitting on the desk. No doubt he’d had the lion’s share of both bottles, although he hadn’t kept track until now. She’d been holding back, as any professional would naturally do.
He admired that. In the socially accepted scenario, the man coaxed the woman to drink more while he remained coolly in charge. They had a role reversal going on, but he discovered he was fine with that.
Wine glass in hand, he settled into the easy chair. Then something else occurred to him. “If you have my transit chart finished, why don’t you print that out, too? Then we’ll have all the research in front of us.”
She glanced over at him. “I must be hearing things. I could have sworn you just referred to my charts as research. That can’t be right.”
“And here I’ve been so carefully avoiding sarcasm.”
Her eyes flashed with regret. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. I have trouble giving up my defensive posture.”
“I’ll bet. I’m sure you’ve been beat up on a fair bit.”
“Yes, I have. But you had it worse in high school. That’s a terrible age to be ridiculed by your peers.”
He smiled at her. “Did they ridicule me? I didn’t notice.”
She gave him a look that made his pulse leap. There was a kiss in that look,
sure as the world. Had they been closer . . . but she was at the desk minding the printer and he was several feet away in a chair holding his wine glass. The moment passed, damn it.
He sipped his wine and watched her fooling with the computer and the printer. Her hair fell in a silky curtain in front of her face when she leaned over to double-check something on the screen. The movement tightened the seat of her black jeans. For the first time he noticed that her figure was slightly fuller than it had been in high school.
A man could go quietly insane gazing at a figure like hers, especially a man who’d had paradise in his grasp and had let it slip through his fingers. What if he set down his wine glass, got up, and wrapped his arms around her from behind? What if he told her that he didn’t give a shit about these charts when a king-sized bed was only feet away?
Then he’d draw back her hair and nuzzle the soft curve of her neck. She’d melt against him and come in direct contact with the firm thrust of his cock through the stiff denim of his jeans. With a moan of surrender, she’d turn in his arms and lift her mouth to his . . . .
“Here are all the charts.” She shoved them under his nose and interrupted the sweetest fantasy of his life. “I want to go on record as being grateful that you didn’t let things get out of hand a while ago. It would have been a huge mistake.”
Pop went the bubble of his erotic dream. “Then I’m glad I held off.” He didn’t think it would have been a huge mistake, not in retrospect, but if she did, then he’d take comfort in knowing that he’d saved her from herself.
She sat in the rolling desk chair and positioned herself in front of him, but she kept about three feet between his knees and hers. “Should we finish up your birth chart first?”
“I’d rather get into yours.”
She raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment on what had been an obvious double entendre. “All right.”
“I found the Mc. But the rest of it is Greek to me.” He thought that was cute since the symbols were mostly all Greek.
Nerds Are From Mars Page 5
