Into the Fire - Leslie Kelly [39]
She fell asleep with a smile on her face.
* * *
The next day, Lacey heard from Nate via e-mail. He had some work to finish up on his columns and told her he planned to work at home for a few days to avoid distractions. He didn't say what type of distractions. Lacey had to wonder if he found her as distracting as she found him, but she wasn't about to ask.
Nate sent her frequent notes discussing his ideas for their assignment. He'd been thinking as much as she had. They'd each conduct interviews, do man-on-the-street opinion polls, look at pop culture views about the male-female relationship, plus contact a few celebrities for glitz factor.
He suggested going a step further, actual physical investigation. "A singles joint?" she scoffed as she read one message. He really thought the two of them should go to the same club, sit apart and do some research on how men and women interacted while seeking out members of the opposite sex?
Once she thought about it, she admitted the idea had some merit. But there was no way she was going for his next suggestion. "I am not answering a lonely hearts ad and going on a blind date," she typed. "But by all means, feel free to do that yourself. I'm sure there are plenty of single white females who'd love the chance to help Naughty Nate on a story."
Distracted by meetings for the rest of the morning, Lacey had forgotten about her message by the time she checked her e-mail that afternoon. When she opened his reply, she read "SWM seeks thong-wearing blonde for serious fun. Trampolines and pools involved. Sturdy kitchen table a must."
She shivered in her chair, wondering how he could make her want him and laugh at him with the same words. Of course, he'd been able to make her laugh from the very beginning. Yes, he was overconfident and had an abundance of charm, but his natural good humor was infectious. She'd never met a man like him.
She'd certainly never met a man who would have walked away from her in her kitchen the day before. A man who'd wanted her brain every bit as much as her body. While physically she'd felt like screaming in frustration, Lacey had been even more shocked by the feelings of tenderness his actions had inspired once she'd thought about them after he'd gone.
He'd cared about her too much to take what they were both panting for. He wanted her beyond one quick moment of release. So he'd stepped back. That certainly wasn't the action of a callous, insensitive, sexist man. Nothing Nate Logan had done from the minute they'd met had shown him to be anything other than a sexy, considerate, free-spirited charmer.
"He was right," she mumbled as she sat at her desk, staring unseeingly at the computer screen. "I never really knew him."
She hadn't known the real man by reading his columns any more than the average guy on the street knew her father from the media blitz surrounding his romantic escapades.
She'd begun to know Nate, though. And she liked him. Her feelings had already gone beyond attraction, beyond interest. That somehow made things worse. It had been bad enough having to work with him when she thought him despicable. Now, suspecting he was someone she could respect, even admire, their assignment would be sheer misery.
Because she couldn't have him. Lacey couldn't take what he offered—a joyful, sensual affair that might fulfill her physically but would leave her emotions tattered in the end.
She conceded Nate Logan was not a sexist jerk. Nor, however, was he the stick-around, committed type. Yes, he cared about her. Yes, he wanted more than a one-night stand. But how much more? A week? Six weeks? A few months? Surely no more than that. Certainly not a lifetime.
Getting involved with him would go against everything Lacey wrote about, everything she'd believed in since she was a child.
Since the nights when she'd hidden her head under her pillow while her