“Refusing to tell me what they are isn’t going to change the fact I want you and that you want me.”
Well, hell. “Roman didn’t tell me you were so stubborn.”
“It sounds like he told you plenty, even if he didn’t tell you that, which he knows by the way. In case you were wondering.” She sipped her coffee. “But, you know, it sounds like you and Roman have talked an awful lot about me.”
“I guess.” He went for casual, but he knew he’d been caught.
He could see it in her eyes.
She confirmed it with her next words. “I wouldn’t think my brother would talk about me much, not without prompting, anyway.”
“He’s proud of you.”
“Still . . .” She gave him a look that dared him to deny asking about her.
He shrugged. “I was curious.”
“Because you wanted me.”
“You’re blunt.”
“It’s the scientist in me. You’re changing the subject.”
“Yes.” To both. He did want her and he really wanted to change the subject.
His control had never been so close to the edge, which scared the hell out of him and excited him beyond reason too. It was almost a better adrenaline rush than going on assignment.
Something in her grey gaze said she knew exactly what he’d meant by the yes. She nodded toward the paper with the numbers on it. “So, tell me why you can’t have me.”
“I’m not writing it down.”
“Afraid my brother will find it in the trash after you’re gone?”
It was a serious consideration. “Look, if you can’t live without knowing, I’ll tell you.”
“Okay, so talk, but don’t let your breakfast get cold.”
He started eating and thought about how to approach telling her his reasons. Should he start with the biggest one and try to circumvent the need for the conversation?
The stubborn tilt to her jaw said that wouldn’t work.
He decided to start with the reason he figured she’d consider the most valid. She’d already shown she didn’t consider the fact she was Roman’s baby sister any kind of roadblock. “I’m not in the market for a relationship.”
“So?”
What the hell did she mean, so? “You’re a forever kind of woman.”
“Tell that to the other men I’ve had sex with.” She shook her head, her expression nonplussed. “I don’t think they got the memo.”
“You’ve had sex?” Of course she’d had sex. She was twenty-four, but other than the striptease the night before, she came off as Pure Grade A innocent.
“My family might have sent me away from home when I was thirteen, but they didn’t send me to a nunnery.”
“You had sex back then?” he asked, feeling queasy.
She grimaced. “No, of course not. I was still a kid, but I’ve been an adult for six years.”
“So, you’ve had sex.” He was still having trouble wrapping his mind around it.