“You’re more than welcome.”

She got into her car and drove away, with Bart right behind her.

CHAPTER THREE

CORT HAD A nightcap with the merry divorcée, but he made no attempt at seduction once they were alone. He didn’t know why, which irritated him. Women were a permissible pleasure and he’d never refused the offer of a passionate night.

This woman was overly seductive, but there was a coldness in the eyes above that sweet smile that made him hesitate. It was like looking into his own eyes. He had a fine contempt for most women. They were willing to do almost anything for the perks he could provide. He was jaded. She seemed very much the same.

“I hear that you’ve divorced two husbands,” he said after a minute.

She shrugged, sliding into a chair near his with a snifter of brandy in her hands. She’d already given him one. “Yes. The first was gay, but I didn’t know it. He wanted to look conventional for the sake of his corporate image. The second was a closet sadist who made me believe I was the most beloved woman on earth. I married him and came face-to-face with horror when he got me alone. He crippled me emotionally and physically. I ran from him and had him arrested for assault and battery, and then divorced him. There was almost a third…” She smiled sadly. She took a drink from the snifter. “He was a journalist who liked dangerous places and risk.” She looked down at her shoes. “He was kind and considerate and I think I could have loved him. But I couldn’t live with the terror, so I never let him get close. I was a coward.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You loved him.”

“I could have, I think.” She looked up into pale brown eyes in a hard, uncompromising face. “But you’ve never loved anyone,” she said, reading him with textbook accuracy. “You love women, plural. You love the taste and feel and exhilaration of conquest. But the next day, you can walk away without being tempted to look behind you.”

Both eyebrows arched. “Damn,” he said softly.

She smiled knowingly, her pale eyes intent on his face. “You’re a sad, lonely, lost person.” She sighed. “Like me.”

What began as a potential one-night stand was quickly turning into something else, something totally unexpected.

“You see deep,” he replied after a minute, and with reserve.

She nodded. “I’ve been through a lot in my life. It’s taught me to live for the moment. I don’t look ahead, ever.”

He sipped brandy. He was the same. After his stint in the Middle East, after what he’d been through, he’d lived only in the present. He was damaged. Broken. He would never again be the idealistic, patriotic young man who donned a military uniform and went overseas into combat. His worldview had changed.

“You don’t even remember what they look like, do you?” she asked, bringing him out of his memories.