Got Your Number

wanted her, he could have her now and no one would be the wiser. Thoroughly spooked, she kept looking over her shoulder, but no one emerged from the shadows to gobble her up. The road conditions forced her to slow her pace, but she reached the street Carl lived on in fifteen minutes. The trees were taller and the houses more crowded than she remembered, and the cars parked in the driveways were dated. She stopped at the end of the quiet street to catch her breath, then walked on the sidewalk until Carl's ranch-style home came into sight. His old boxy black Volvo was recognizable in the shadows, still in good shape.
    The lights were on in at least two rooms, meaning someone was home, unless Carl had left them on. She crept closer, keeping an eye on her surroundings, and feeling a little nauseous. But her need to prove Capistrano wrong kept her moving forward, coupled with her need to prove to herself that Carl was the man she thought he was.

Chapter Eighteen

    ANGORA CLAWED AT THE RASH on her neck and chest—at this rate she'd never get laid. After plying her with good food and working her up with close-body dancing, Carl Seger had brought her back to his home to show her every first edition of every boring book in his stupid library. She knew he found her attractive because he'd been touching her all night. At the moment, though, he was stroking the cover of a green leather-bound volume.
    "And this one I bought at a garage sale while I was vacationing in the Hamptons—"
    "Carl," she said with a seductive smile. "I've seen every room in your house except the bedroom."
    His eyebrows shot up. "Well, I...didn't think this was that kind of date. After all, the auction was for charity."
    She squinted, trying to figure out if she'd just been insulted. "I didn't pay two thousand dollars for a lecture on old books."
    He smiled. "You didn't?"
    "No. I paid two thousand dollars to lose my virginity."
    The book fell to the floor with a thud. "You're a virgin?"
    She nodded, glad to finally have his attention.
    He moved closer to her and gave her a deep, grinding kiss that allowed all the important parts to make contact. When he lifted his head, he was breathing hard and his glasses were steamed up. "Why me?"
    She could tell he was torn between behaving himself and ripping her clothes off. "Take me to your bedroom, and I'll tell you why."
    They kissed and rubbed their way to his bedroom, which was an unfortunate attempt at Japanese-style decorating—lots of black and red and gold. She carefully removed her crown and placed it on his dresser. Then they fell onto the bed, which undulated beneath them. Ugh—a waterbed. He tugged on her dress and bra until she was naked from the waist up.
    "So why me?" he whispered, kissing her breasts.
    At last it was starting to feel good. "Because we have history."
    His head came up. "Huh?"
    "I gave you a blowjob in your office when I was a student."
    "You did?"
    She frowned. "You don't remember?"
    "You'll have to be more specific."
    "I spit come on your Cole Haan loafers."
    "That was you?"
    "That was me."
    He pulled on his chin and smiled. "It must have been pretty good if you saved your cherry for me after all these years."
    "I figured you would know what you were doing." And the thrill of losing her cherry to the man Roxann wanted was absolutely delicious. She knew she was being evil, but she couldn't help it—she deserved something for all her bad luck lately, not to mention her two thousand dollars.
    Suddenly he sat up and ran his hand through his hair. "Wait a minute—how do I know this won't be on the front page of a tabloid tomorrow? And how do I know you won't tell Roxann?"
    She frowned. "Roxann?"
    He looked away. "She's special."
    Hurt expanded her lungs—she was special, too. Why couldn't anyone in the world see that she was special, too? She manufactured a coy smile and rubbed her bare breasts against his arm. "I won't tell anyone, Carl. I didn't tell anyone all those years ago."
    "Because you would have gotten in trouble," he said. "No, it's too risky." He started to rebutton her dress. "I'm taking you home."
    Angora sat up. "You can't, not yet."
    "I can, and I will. Get dressed."
    She swallowed, feeling desperate. "I know a secret."
    He shrugged, unimpressed. "What kind of secret?"
    She bit into her lip, wavering.
    "What kind of secret?"
    "It's about Tammy Paulen."
    He stopped. "What about her?"
    "I know...what you did."
    His Adam's apple bobbed. "What are you talking