“Excellent suggestion.” She stood, smoothing down her skirt. Ian’s gaze followed the movement of her hands down her thighs.
That’s right, buddy. That’s the sensual game. I’ll show you twenty-first-century male responding to the ancient techniques.
“And Ava,” he said, his voice taking on that husky tone she was beginning to like so much. A tone that showed how much he liked looking at her body.
“Yes?” she said, flashing him a slow smile. She’d even throw in the head tilt.
“Don’t drag out your notebook,” he told her with a wink. A man secure in his environment and utterly confident.
Two can play it that way. She rounded her shoulders, her nipples pushing out the material of her blouse. “Don’t worry. I’ll know what to do.”
That brash smile he’d flashed her faded. Besides, she’d forgotten her pen. Ava turned on her new high heels and, striding toward the bar, was careful to pick one of the bar stools that was not occupied on either side.
After ordering a white wine, she idly glanced up toward one of the many televisions throughout the club. This one appeared to be playing some type of athletic competition.
“If you like basketball, I can show you one of my trophies,” a male voice suddenly said.
IAN WATCHED THE MAN approach Ava. He wasn’t surprised. The guy had been checking her out since they’d walked in together.
What did surprise him was the twinge of unease he felt at seeing another man advance on her. He observed her sneak a subtle glance down at the man’s shoes. Ian smiled. The little professor had obviously paid attention to some of his comments. Maybe he should make a few more about the idiots who’d try to pick her up. A couple stumbled in front of him, obscuring his vision of Ava for a moment. The music blared.
The two talked for a few minutes, actually, the man talked to Ava. Idiot. You didn’t talk at a woman. You engaged them. Tried to make them laugh.
Ian relaxed. This clown would get nowhere. Then he saw a look of surprise pass across her face. Unpleasant surprise.
That unease he’d felt turned into a clenching of his stomach. What in the hell had the bastard said to her? Ian began to stand.
Then she nodded and they both looked around for…something. Finally, the guy leaned over and talked to the bartender, who then handed him a pen. Ian’s breath came out in a disgusted hiss. He saw Ava recite something and the man wrote it down on a napkin.
Idiot. This guy didn’t deserve her phone number if he didn’t come prepared. And what had he said to her to manage to get her number? Maybe she didn’t realize she was supposed to be selective when handing out her digits. Then he watched as the jerk kissed her temple and walked away.
That’s right buddy, you just keep on moving. Ava was way out of his league.
The jerk was lucky he’d only kissed her temple.
Ava hopped off the bar stool, then lifted her wineglass and walked toward him. Ian liked the way the woman moved. Her hips rolled with the grace of someone not afraid of her body. She smiled, and his breath caught in his chest.
“I think I did okay,” she said, her voice brimming with excitement. “Strange, awkward customs, but I could get the hang of it. What’s traditional here? Thumbs-up? High five?”
“Ladies’ room visit to scrub off the side of your face,” he muttered under his breath.
Her brow furrowed in confusion. “And I see what you mean about corny opening lines.”
“What did he say?” Ian asked, resentment making his words rush. If that man had said something crude to Ava he’d go over there right now and show him how a lady should be treated.
“Oh, something about showing me his trophies. It was mixed in with a sports reference so I didn’t really understand all of it. But the gist of it was to try and be impressive and hint that all his trophies would follow suit.”
Ian tasted something bitter in his mouth.
“He asked for my phone number.”
“Yeah, I gathered that by all the fumbling around.”
Her eyes grew sharper. “Okay, I can tell by your voice you’re going to tell me he did something wrong. I checked out his shoes. They looked okay to me.”
“He didn’t have a pen. It looks unprepared. Incompetent. From the moment a woman notices a man, she’s judging him. No woman wants to invest a lot of her time and energy into someone who will turn out to be a dud. You coming without a pen leads to questions like, ‘What else will this guy forget?’”
Ava nodded. “Or, how incompetent will he be in bed?”
“Exactly.”
She drew a deep breath. “Fine. I think I’m ready to return to the bar.”
“What?” He hadn’t expected he’d have to step back and watch her be approached by other men again. He opened his mouth to stop her, then—
Why did he care if some slob hit on her?
It wasn’t as if he wanted her for himself.
He took a swig of beer, but it no longer tasted good. In fact, it was like lead in his stomach. He’d spent too much time alone and in too many dangerous situations not to trust his instincts and lie to himself now. Yeah, I do want her for myself.
Hell.
“Do you not think I should try again?” she asked, her fingers on his back.
Hmm? Oh, yeah. He’d just yelled “what” like a lunatic. Instead he offered another reply. Nodding, he said, “Sure, go back. Try some of those body language seduction techniques you talked about in the book.” That should keep her busy. Ava didn’t know how to talk to a man in a bar. Sure, he’d grant some of her ideas worked in a small way in a one-on-one situation over dinner, but here? Dim bar? Filled with drunk guys? No way. Subtle was not the answer.
“Universal flirting? Great idea.” She finished off her wine, deposited her glass on the table and headed to the bar. Half a dozen male eyes following her progress. Laughing at him because it appeared he’d struck out.
None of these men knew what she looked like slathered in paint and wearing a loincloth. He did. His gut remembered. It tightened at the image.
That flashy top she wore was no match for that black miniskirt. Skirt or loincloth, he’d never get tired of watching Ava Simms’s sweet ass.
Yeah, he was in trouble.
AVA SMILED AS SHE MADE her way back to the bar. He may not know it yet, but Ian didn’t like the idea of her talking to other men. He wasn’t the only observer of life. She was a trained scientist after all, and she knew when she spotted some pre-mate-guarding conduct.
He’d already pointed out the flaws in a potential rival. Classic male behavior. Anything else? Oh, yes, there was a gleam in his eye when he looked anywhere lower than her collarbone, and his hand gripped the bottle hard when she displayed mate-receptive behaviors. All excellent signs.
At the bar, this time she sat right next to a man sitting alone nursing something on the rocks.
Ava glanced toward Ian and noticed him glaring at the back of the man beside her. Warning him off. Another good sign. Her body warmed at Ian’s behavior.
His brown-eyed gaze then met hers, and she sucked in her breath. There was heat and fire in that gaze. Something tempting and full of sensual promise. Suddenly she began telling herself maybe they didn’t have to stretch the sexual tension between them for the benefit of the book.
Maybe they could enjoy the sexual chemistry. As hot as the sensual energy zipping between them was, it couldn’t help but make it onto the pages.
Her shoulders sagged, and she angled her body away from the man nearby. She didn’t want to practice her flirting skills on anyone else but Ian. She certainly didn’t want to make him jealous by leading on another man.
Ava only wanted Ian.
And to know he wanted her.
He’d teased her about some of the universal flirting techniques she’d postulated. But scientists had been studying them for decades, and she’d show him just how easily they worked. Right now. On him and no other.