After the Kiss (Sex, Love & Stiletto 1)

Practically. But not quite. He wanted to know more. To know her.

Don’t even think about it, Forbes. This was supposed to be a fling, not a budding relationship. Emotional entanglement was one major step in the wrong direction.

Feeling like a jerk, he remained silent.

Mitchell waited until she’d pulled herself together and then changed the subject to safer territory. “So I’ve been wondering something since last night.”

Julie reached for a spring roll and looked at him curiously. “Yeah?”

“Does it get old? Being pigeonholed as a serial dater?”

She let out a choked laugh. “Ouch. But actually, no, not really. The society papers pretty much get it right. Stiletto’s my life. I’ve been there since I was twenty-two, and I know it’s a cliché, but I really can’t imagine working anywhere else.”

“You’re okay being defined by what you write?”

For some reason it bothered him that she was so quick to accept the label Manhattan had slapped on her as the dating guru. Dating was supposed to be a means to an end, not the end itself, and yet most of the women in the city seemed content to ride on her coattails as she tested the waters for them.

Hell, even he was using her career as a way to Yankee tickets. Mitchell felt a stab of guilt that hadn’t been there last night, but he promptly stifled it. Julie’s reputation was why he and Colin had picked her for their little bet—her very nature wouldn’t let her get her heart involved.

Then what’s with the attempt at domesticity tonight? Why didn’t she drag you to some trendy hotspot?

He pushed the thought away.

“I wouldn’t say I’m defined by it,” she said with a touch of annoyance. “But it’s a part of me. I love men. And I love sex,” she said with a saucy wink.

He tried to ignore this. She’d said it only for effect, and damned if it wasn’t working. His body craved a woman. He was beginning to worry that it craved Julie specifically.

But even with his cock threatening to make a spectacle, Mitchell wasn’t about to be anybody’s puppet. Not even for the sake of this compellingly rumpled sexpot.

“I see.” He chewed slowly, carefully pushing the image of naked Julie from his mind. “But how do you come up with fresh content every month? I mean, dating’s been around forever. It’s not like you can reinvent the wheel. There’s only so much that can be manufactured.”

She let out a low laugh. “Oh, you’d be surprised.”

Mitchell shook his head, annoyed that she had such a cynical outlook, and more annoyed to realize that her approach to relationships might echo his own. Everything in his two-year stint with Evelyn had been planned. He’d even had checklists.

She narrowed her eyes and poked him in the arm. “Don’t tell me there’s a romantic under all that Wall Street.”

Mitchell resisted the urge to squirm. She had no idea exactly how unromantic his intentions toward her were. “You make it sound like I spend all year cutting out doilies for homemade Valentines,” he said by way of distraction.

She lifted a shoulder. “All I’m saying is that dating is an art form. So is falling in love.”

Her confidence was alarming. Almost as though she really could determine who’d fall for her.

“Explain,” he said cautiously.

Julie’s eyes lit up as she set her box of food aside and tucked her knees beneath her. “Well, see, everyone seems to think that there’s some sort of lightning bolt that zaps us when we’re with the right person. But the truth is, it comes down to signals. Signals that we can control, although most people don’t seem to bother trying.”

Mitchell narrowed his eyes. She was cocky, all right. “Okay then, expert,” he said, setting his own carton aside and leaning back on the couch. “Show me your stuff.”

Julie gave him a knowing look. “Now see, you’re assuming I’m going to throw out a bunch of seduction moves and you’re going to get lucky. No, I’m talking about Stage One stuff. Eye contact, the accidental touches, the first kiss.”

“Sweetie, it might be time to rethink your day job. This is our second date now, and I can’t say I’ve had my socks knocked off by a so-called love expert. You’re the one who invited me here tonight, remember?”

Her lips tightened briefly, and he nearly smirked. This woman was a hell of lot more interesting when she wasn’t getting what she wanted.

She recovered quickly. “Well, that’s because I wasn’t trying to make you fall in love with me. If I was, you’d have for sure gone in for a kiss by now,” she said with a wave. “I thought I’d go slow with you. You’re so … stodgy.”

Mitchell’s cocky grin slipped. Stodgy? He wasn’t stodgy. Was he? Surely she was just getting back at him for his rejection last night. Then again, she did strike him as a woman who knew exactly what she was doing.