CHAPTER ONE

“Tell me again why I should want to go to bed with you,” Lacy Hogan said in the most sultry voice she could manage. Her fingers toyed absently with the neckline of her soft knit shell. The air in her university office seemed heavier than normal.

Doug Forsyth cleared his throat. His dark brown eyes studied her intently from across her desk. “Because we’d be good together. You know that.”

“I don’t know that,” she said, too sweetly. To fuck him, or not to fuck him: that was the question. It was tempting as hell—but fucking him would violate a number of her rules. She didn’t mind breaking other people’s rules, but she hated breaking her own.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Doug countered, his eyes suddenly snapping. “You are an experiential researcher, aren’t you?”

She grinned in spite of herself. Too bad she enjoyed their banter so much. “That I am. I’ll travel across the world to study a primitive culture, but that doesn’t mean I’ll jump into bed with every guy that interests me.”

“Ah.” Doug arched an eyebrow, his voice soft. “So I do interest you.”

Trapped. Damn. “Maybe. If I didn’t find you interesting, I wouldn’t spend so much time with you.” He’d been sniffing around her for months. The history department offices were on the next floor up, so they’d had ample opportunity to bump into each other. She didn’t doubt that he’d arranged some of those initial encounters, but then, so had she. They’d routinely shared lunch, and they’d visited some Boston museums—for professional reasons, of course, since his field had so much in common with hers as an anthropologist. The urgency in Doug’s voice refocused her attention on the present.

“So how interested are you in finding out how we’d hook up in bed?”

“Not enough. If I really wanted to know, I’d just bend over my desk and find out right now.” Lacy felt her nipples hardening, challenging her lie. Why had she even said that? Doug started to rise from his chair so she held up a palm. “I don’t get involved with married guys.” Which was another lie.

“That’s a technicality,” he huffed as he sat back down, “and you know it.”

“Separated but not divorced is not the same as divorced and available.”

“Divorce takes time in this state.”

“I can wait.” Stupid, actually. He was safer in her book if he wasn’t free. She didn’t need another man to take her to bed with commitment on his mind. She’d gone down that road and been left hanging with a broken heart. Never again.

His nostrils flared. “What if I can’t wait?”

She’d seldom seen Doug’s darker side. Lacy steadied her nerves. “I’m sure there are lots of women out there who wouldn’t care about your status. Maybe you should try one of them.”

“But I don’t want one of them.” His voice grew thicker. “I want you.”