"Oh." For a moment, he couldn't think of anything to say, and he realized that her little confession hit him harder than he'd like.
"I know I shouldn't have--I mean, at the bar--but I really was wasted at first. And I really did have a good time with you, but I never meant to start something, and I didn't think that you did either, and--" She cut herself off abruptly, as if she'd simply run out of words.
Nolan considered making it easy on her and simply walking away. Except that wouldn't be easy on him. And maybe he was making excuses, but he'd held her in his arms. He'd felt her body tremble around his. Maybe she did have a boyfriend, but she wanted Nolan. He was certain of it.
So he stayed, and he looked pointedly at her left hand, and then back up at her eyes. "I don't see a ring. And I don't see your guy."
"I--well, no. So?"
He lifted his brows and flashed a wide, wicked grin. "All's fair in love and war."
"This isn't about love or war."
"All's fair in sex and sin. Better?"
Her lips twitched, but she got herself under control and shook her head. "Listen, Nolan. We're not really ... compatible."
He reached out, then twirled a strand of her hair around his finger before gently tracing her jawline. "Aren't we?" She trembled under his touch, and a sweet shot of victory raced through his veins.
She drew a noisy breath. "I'll admit a bit of a weakness for you, but that's only because I don't really date that much and you--"
"Fascinated you? Titillated you? Aroused you?"
"Unnerved me," she said firmly.
"Yeah?" He flashed his best seductive smile. "I'm happy to unnerve you again."
"Please. I have a date, and you need to go."
A date? He turned, then saw a Lexus turn onto her street.
"Please," she said, a note of panic in her voice.
"All right," he said, then paused at her steps to turn back. "But just so you know, Ben Franklin is my personal hero."
Her brow furrowed as she shook her head in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"If at first you don't succeed..." He trailed off with a shrug. "Call it fair warning."
She rolled her eyes. "Benjamin Franklin never said that."
Nolan frowned, then pointed at her. "Maybe not," he conceded. "But he should have."
* * *
Shelby stood by the front door of her parents' house, her hand clasped in Alan's as they said goodnight to the small group of faculty members who'd come over for the evening.
"This man is going places." The dean clapped his hand on Alan's shoulder as he smiled at Shelby. "He's a good one."
"I know," she said, forcing a smile. Usually she loved faculty dinners at her parents' house, but tonight had bordered on painful. It was Nolan's fault, of course. His promise--no, threat--that he wasn't going away. And, honestly, she didn't need that kind of complication in her well-ordered life.
She sighed as she closed the door behind the last guest, feeling
like a walking, talking lesson in not breaking your own rules.
"Something wrong?" Alan asked, as he stroked her cheek, his brown eyes dark with worry.
"I'll second Alan's question," her mother said. "You were very quiet tonight." She was a tall woman with the build of a ballerina. She tended to wear her hair up except when she was home alone, and the style only made the resemblance more apparent. Now, she pulled out the pins and let her dark hair fall around her shoulders. It was the only feature they had in common, and Shelby was grateful to have inherited her mom's lovely hair.