Free Trust Me by Jayne Ann Krentz Page B

brooding stare. “You do want me, don't you? I didn't get that part wrong, did I?”
    “That's got nothing to do with this,” she assured him.
    “My mistake,” he said roughly. “I thought maybe the fact that your panties are soaking wet had something to do with this incident .”
    She felt herself turn scarlet. “Stark, for goodness' sake.”
    “You think I'm making love to you on a countertop here in the kitchen because I'm trying to prove to myself that I'm not completely washed up as a man?”
    “I never implied that you were washed up or that you had to prove anything. I'm just not sure that you're doing this for the right reasons.”
    “I don't believe this. You want me and I want you. We're mature, consenting adults. Neither of us is involved with anyone else. What better reasons could there be?”
    Desdemona reached the end of her tether. “Never mind. If you can't figure that out for yourself, I'm not going to waste my time explaining it to you. Will you kindly let me off this table?”
    “Damn it, I really hate that,” Stark said.
    “Hate what?”
    “I hate it when a woman avoids a direct answer to a simple, straightforward question and then gets mad about the question.”
    “Tough. If you don't like the way I answer your questions, you can stop asking them. Move. It's very difficult trying to conduct a rational conversation with a man who is standing between my legs.”
    “What's rational about this conversation?” Stark asked.
    “Nothing. I said move .”
    He looked down at her splayed thighs and then slowly, reluctantly stepped back a pace. Desdemona clamped her legs together smartly and jumped down off the island.
    She promptly lost her balance when her shoeless foot touched the floor.
    Her knees, still unsteady from the effects of Stark's love-making, gave way. She staggered and grabbed for the edge of the island.
    Stark caught her easily. “I've got you.” He steadied her. “Are you okay?”
    Desdemona wanted to scream. She managed to hold on to her self-control with a great effort of will. “Of course, I'm okay. I just stumbled, that's all.”
    “Right.” He released her as if she were too hot to hold.
    Desdemona hurriedly fumbled with her zipper. Stark leaned back against the island, folded his arms, and watched her. He did not offer to assist her.
    When she was finished, Desdemona looked up and met his eyes. “I'm sorry.”
    “So am I.”
    “I just don't think you're ready for another relationship yet.”
    “Thank you for sharing your views on the subject with me,” Stark said in a dangerously even tone. “When and if you ever do consider me ready for another relationship, would you be amenable to having one with me?”
    Longing welled up within her. “When you think about it logically, we're really not a very good match, you know.”
    “I know,” he said quite casually. “I've already considered that problem.”
    She blinked. “You have?”
    “Sure. You're from a theatrical family. That means you're inclined to be temperamental and emotional. Volatile, even. What happened just now proves it.”
    “I see,” she said acidly. “A person such as myself would no doubt introduce an element of chaos into your life. We certainly wouldn't want that, would we? Chaos theory is all well and good when you're working with it on a computer, but who wants the real thing.”
    “My work is in the field of complex structures, not chaos.” His gaze sharpened. “I usually don't get involved with women like you. They tend to be difficult.”
    “Is that so? Well, let me tell you something. I generally don't get involved with cold-blooded, cynical, overly logical males such as yourself. They tend to be boring.”
    “The fact that your panties are still damp doesn't impact your thinking on the matter?”
    “Will you stop harping on the condition of my underwear?” she said through her teeth. “It's rude.”
    “Sorry. It's all I've got to cling to at the moment. So to