Melodie pinned him with an accusing look. Misinterpreting the source of her agitation, he held his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Hey, it’s not as though I promised to call her.”
“You’re a complete manwhore, Noah Sommers,” she said, shaking her head in mild disgust. “I fervently wish that someday some woman brings you to your knees.”
“Many have,” he said without a beat, his eyes twinkling with wicked mischief.
A warm flush suffused Melodie’s cheeks, but she refused to let his innuendo fluster her. “Let me rephrase my comment. I hope you find a woman you absolutely have to have, and she makes you work for her affection. Some woman who’ll reform you and your playboy ways.”
He considered her remark for a moment, his expression changing to one of amusement. “It’s a novel thought, isn’t it?”
She rolled her eyes at his insinuation that no woman could tame the bad boy he’d always been. She couldn’t even bring herself to laugh at his teasing statement, not when she wanted to reach out and throttle him—along with his brother.
Shoving the tips of his fingers into the front pockets of his well-worn jeans, Noah’s gaze turned serious with concern. “Who or what has your feathers all ruffled today, hot stuff?”
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She drew a deep breath, set her pen aside, and boldly met his gaze. “Actually, at the moment, it’s you.”
Startled shock flashed across Noah’s features. “Me?”
“Yes, you,” she reiterated. “You’re the culprit behind all these airheaded women traipsing in and out of the office for the past two days, aren’t you?”
“I’m just following the boss’s orders,” he said with a shrug. “Cole asked me to find him a woman that can accompany him to the charity auction and read Russell’s love letters per Elena’s request, and that’s exactly what I’m trying to do.”
Don’t try so freaking hard, she wanted to tell him, but bit her tongue, knowing that Noah truly wasn’t at fault for following through on Cole’s orders. At the moment, he was just an easy target for her own troubled emotions.
“Cole better choose someone, and fast,” Noah went on with a distracted sigh, “because I’m running out of suitable candidates.”
And Cole had made it abundantly clear that she wasn’t suitable for the job, no matter how much experience she’d gained in the PI business over the past two years. This was her chance to do more, to be more, and he was being as stubborn as a damn mule. Personally and professionally, Cole refused to acknowledge just how good they could be together, and he’d shot down every one of her attempts to prove otherwise.
He knew exactly where she stood and what she wanted, yet for the past few days he’d purposely avoided being alone with her. His businesslike demeanor discounted everything that had happened between them the night at his house and made her feel as though she was right back where she started—being nothing more than a front-end secretary. She’d even tried planting a few of her erotic letters in his desk and in his briefcase, and though she was certain he’d read them, she’d gotten no response at all from him.
And now she’d finally had enough of being ignored when she had proof of just how much Cole wanted her. Desired her. If he could so easily dismiss her, then she damn well was going to try to do the same with him.
She glanced at the clock on her desk; it was 5:05 p.m. on a Friday afternoon and freedom beckoned, as did the rebellious urge to do something completely wild and frivolous. For once she wasn’t going to spend a Friday evening alone at home, curled up in bed with a book or watching a rerun on TV while wishing she was doing something fun and exciting instead.
No, tonight she was determined to strike out on her own, put to use her newly developed bad-girl skills in the real world, and see where those naughty impulses led her.
“I’m out of here,” she muttered beneath her breath. Abruptly, she stood up, turned off her computer, and started clearing off her desk.
“And just where are you off to, hot stuff?” Noah asked, obviously having heard her comment.
“I’m going to go out tonight and have a good time.” Retrieving her purse from the bottom drawer, she raised her chin defiantly. “Could you tell me the best place to meet men?”
Realizing what she intended, his eyes widened in a look of surprise, which was quickly replaced by a casual, humorous attitude. “Well, I don’t think I can help you out with that. I’m not exactly into that kind of thing myself.”
She frowned at him. She wasn’t asking for a gay bar, and he knew it. “A place where men go to meet women, then.”
He crossed his arms over his broad chest and tipped his head curiously. “Now why would you want to go to a place like that?”
Melodie recognized his hedging for the stall tactic it was, but refused to change her mind. “The reason should be obvious. I’m tired of always being the quintessential good girl. I want to have fun and meet men who’ll show me a good time and treat me like a real woman.” She dug her keys out of her purse and gave Noah a direct, no-nonsense look. “So, you can either recommend a reputable place, or I can find a nightclub on my own.”
Noah shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “You know, I really don’t think you going out alone is such a good idea.”
She sighed, disappointed that Noah found it necessary to protect her virtue just as much as every other man in her life. “It’s a great idea, and since you don’t seem inclined to help me out, I guess I’m on my own.”
She started for the door, and he gently grabbed her elbow before she could leave. “All right, all right,” he said, all traces of his normal, carefree nature gone. “Since I obviously can’t talk you out of this crazy idea of yours, then I might as well make sure you go somewhere safe. There’s a place called Paxton’s—it’s hip and contemporary and the security is tight there. They open at eight.” Letting her arm go free, he reluctantly gave her the cross streets for the nightclub.
“Thank you,” she said, appreciating his concern for her welfare, despite her own struggle to be an independent woman. If she was going to pursue the nightlife, she really did prefer to do it in a safe, respectable environment.