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it had been her ex who’d done the running; only at the end had she acted so desperately. Now she’d been more forward than she could believe, to someone so out of her league. Seth Walker was probably used to having women in his bed who did the splits five ways while swinging from a chandelier. She’d never been anything better than average in anything, not even sex. Her best course of action was a speedy withdrawal before she made more of an idiot of herself.
    â€˜I’m sorry about your jacket,’ she muttered as they got to the entrance level.
    â€˜No, you’re not.’ He laughed. ‘But that’s okay, it wasn’t a favourite.’
    She walked with him across the car park, because she couldn’t decide how to phrase her escape and because he moved with such assurance it was easier to go with him than against him. He’d put sunglasses on and she couldn’t read his expression. She’d have put hers on, too, except she was holding her bag in a death grip and couldn’t relax her fingers enough to operate the catch.
    â€˜This is mine.’ He stopped by a beautiful gleaming black car. Its design spoke volumes—not some flashy low-to-the-ground sports number with a huge stereo system like most of the rugby guys drove, but sleek, solid, offering extreme comfort. ‘You ready to go?’ he asked.
    â€˜Actually, no.’ She tried to smile back but her mouth was too stiff. ‘This was such a… We don’t have to do dinner. Idon’t know what came over me,’ she mumbled. ‘I was just being…being…’
    â€˜Provocative?’
    Yes, she had been. Only, now she’d provoked his reaction, she didn’t think she could handle it.
    â€˜Stupid,’ she corrected, staring at the car rather than him. ‘Look, I’ll catch the bus. I’m sorry you had to come back here.’
    â€˜You’re not catching the bus.’ He smiled, totally friendly and not at all wolfish. Well, she didn’t think so—she couldn’t see his eyes. ‘At least let me drop you home.’
    Oh. Lena breathed. He’d capitulated easily—she’d been reading this wrong. He wasn’t that interested. And she refused to admit to that sudden disappointment. ‘No, I’m okay. I’ll get the bus.’
    â€˜I’m here anyway, I’m driving back through town…’ He still looked friendly, but like he didn’t really mind either way. ‘Be silly to waste the gas.’
    As she hesitated he flicked a button and unlocked the car. She shouldn’t refuse. She’d look silly and rude and hadn’t she been silly and rude enough to him? She didn’t want to look any more pathetic than she already did. ‘Okay, but I’m really sorry for wasting your time.’
    She was even more sorry she didn’t have the guts she’d had an hour before. She slid into the car, felt the leather practically embrace her. He pulled out of the park instantly, the engine so smooth it was almost inaudible.
    â€˜I’m disappointed,’ he said. ‘I was looking forward to cooking up something fresh for you.’
    Despite the gentle airconditioning, Lena’s temperature surged and butterfly wings beat in her belly. But he’d spoken so blandly there wasn’t any undertone going on, right? ‘You caught me at a bad moment when I was…wasn’t thinking.’
    â€˜Now I’m even more disappointed.’ His lips curved. ‘Ithought I’d finally found a woman who’d hold her own with me. I was excited about that.’
    Hold her own? Okay, the undertone was there and searing images filled her head—ones where pleasure was extreme and mutually exhausting. ‘I think we should forget about what happened this afternoon,’ she mumbled.
    â€˜No, you don’t.’ He suddenly laughed. ‘And I can’t. Anyway, I need to offer you a genuine