Nerds Are From Mars (7 page)

But he’d also taken a class in anthropology for the hell of it, and that had educated him about cultural mating habits. Bill’s hypothesis about women dating bad boys until they needed a steady guy to help them raise the kids was likely true. Therefore a woman, especially one thinking about settling down, would want to know everything she could about the man she had sex with.

But even if he didn’t share those instincts, he was an educated, rational male creature who realized that mindless copulating would leave him feeling . . . terrific. Oh, hell, he’d talked himself out of accepting her unspoken invitation to sleep with her. Was he stupid or what?

She obviously had all the personal information she needed to make that a worthwhile experience. If he didn’t, he could have caught up later! He was officially an idiot who didn’t deserve to have sex with Darcie Ingram, because instead of kissing her senseless, he’d asked to see her damned birth chart.

By the time he’d positioned the cart out in the hall, come back into the room and flipped the security lock on the door, he was cursing himself for being a fool. Any other guy would be in bed with a naked Darcie by now. Not Dr. Nolan Bradbury. Oh, no. He required an astrological birth chart before he took the plunge.

He noticed that she pulled two sheets of paper out of the printer instead of only one. “You have two charts?”

“The other one’s my transit chart. It’s not important right now.”

“What’s a transit chart?” Yeah, he’d have to ask that instead of taking both charts out of her hands and pulling her into his arms. What a doofus.

“A transit chart describes what’s going on in a person’s life now and what might happen in the future.”

In for a penny, in for a pound. “I might as well hear about that, too.”

“You mean mine or yours?”

“What do you mean, mine or yours? Do I have a transit chart?”

Her cheeks turned pink. “I had some extra time, so I created one for you. I wasn’t going to say anything about that until . . . well, depending on how the birth chart discussion ended up and whether you were open to more information.”

He felt as if he’d fallen down the rabbit hole, but he didn’t think she’d appreciate that comparison so he kept it to himself. “So what we have is a birth chart for each of us, and a . . . transit chart? Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“A transit chart for each of us.” He started to add
what more could you want?
But that would be sarcastic and he was trying very hard not to be a jerk about a subject she held dear. If someone mocked his team’s efforts to colonize Mars, he wouldn’t like that. He needed to remember that these charts represented reality to her in the way that space travel represented reality to him. Some people scoffed at both things. He resolved not to be a scoffer.

“Let’s have you sit down in the easy chair again.”

“Okay. There’s wine left. I kept the goblets. Want some?”

“A little. I need to concentrate.”

There wasn’t much left, so he divided up what was in the bottle sitting on the desk. No doubt he’d had the lion’s share of both bottles, although he hadn’t kept track until now. She’d been holding back, as any professional would naturally do.

He admired that. In the socially accepted scenario, the man coaxed the woman to drink more while he remained coolly in charge. They had a role reversal going on, but he discovered he was fine with that.

Wine glass in hand, he settled into the easy chair. Then something else occurred to him. “If you have my transit chart finished, why don’t you print that out, too? Then we’ll have all the research in front of us.”

She glanced over at him. “I must be hearing things. I could have sworn you just referred to my charts as research. That can’t be right.”

“And here I’ve been so carefully avoiding sarcasm.”

Her eyes flashed with regret. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. I have trouble giving up my defensive posture.”

“I’ll bet. I’m sure you’ve been beat up on a fair bit.”

“Yes, I have. But you had it worse in high school. That’s a terrible age to be ridiculed by your peers.”

He smiled at her. “Did they ridicule me? I didn’t notice.”

She gave him a look that made his pulse leap. There was a kiss in that look, sure as the world. Had they been closer . . . but she was at the desk minding the printer and he was several feet away in a chair holding his wine glass. The moment passed, damn it.

He sipped his wine and watched her fooling with the computer and the printer. Her hair fell in a silky curtain in front of her face when she leaned over to double-check something on the screen. The movement tightened the seat of her black jeans. For the first time he noticed that her figure was slightly fuller than it had been in high school.

A man could go quietly insane gazing at a figure like hers, especially a man who’d had paradise in his grasp and had let it slip through his fingers. What if he set down his wine glass, got up, and wrapped his arms around her from behind? What if he told her that he didn’t give a shit about these charts when a king-sized bed was only feet away?

Then he’d draw back her hair and nuzzle the soft curve of her neck. She’d melt against him and come in direct contact with the firm thrust of his cock through the stiff denim of his jeans. With a moan of surrender, she’d turn in his arms and lift her mouth to his . . . .

“Here are all the charts.” She shoved them under his nose and interrupted the sweetest fantasy of his life. “I want to go on record as being grateful that you didn’t let things get out of hand a while ago. It would have been a huge mistake.”

Pop went the bubble of his erotic dream. “Then I’m glad I held off.” He didn’t think it would have been a huge mistake, not in retrospect, but if she did, then he’d take comfort in knowing that he’d saved her from herself.

She sat in the rolling desk chair and positioned herself in front of him, but she kept about three feet between his knees and hers. “Should we finish up your birth chart first?”

“I’d rather get into yours.”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment on what had been an obvious double entendre. “All right.”

“I found the Mc. But the rest of it is Greek to me.” He thought that was cute since the symbols were mostly all Greek.

“Ha, ha. Well, I have a Cancer moon in my fifth house. Can you find that?”

He studied the chart, which looked nothing like his. “Yep, got it. What does that mean?”

“I can be emotional, even sappy.”

“So you cry during Hallmark commercials?”

“Every time. But the contradiction is that too much intimacy scares me. I’m afraid of a deep emotional connection.”

He liked knowing that about her. Maybe there was something to this introspective astrology stuff, after all. Or maybe he thought that because he was slightly toasted.

“And FYI, you have a similar issue.”

“I knew that. I’ve had two different women accuse me of it, in fact.”

“Well, according to your chart, they’re right.”

“Yeah, yeah, but we’re supposed to be focused on you, now. Tell me about your folks.”

“My dad is a control freak and my mom is a closeted free spirit.”

He gazed at her. “While your free spirit is out of the closet?”

“Exactly. I’m determined not to close myself off the way she has. I crave an unusual career, which she probably did, too, but didn’t allow herself to have it. I’m better off working for myself, I like to learn and I love a good argument.”

“I knew you loved a good argument. You were on the debate team in high school.”

“Briefly. But I discovered the flaw in debate. You have to be able to argue both sides of an issue convincingly. I have Mars in Virgo. I have to act with integrity. I can’t fake a conviction in something.”

“Me, either.” He sighed. “Which means if I can’t convince myself this is real, I’ll have to say so and then . . . goodbye Darcie Ingram.”

“You sound as if you’re ready to throw in the towel already.”

He looked into those blue eyes. He wanted to be able to look into them a lot, but what were the chances he could make this work between them? “Face it, I’m a dyed-in-the-wool scientist. You told me earlier that I’m loyal to my beliefs.” He finished off the last of his wine and put down his glass. “Considering the evidence, how can I expect to adopt a whole new way of thinking?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She grabbed the charts away from him and flipped through them. “Here’s your birth chart. I’m not going to explain how I know this because that would take too long and you’d want me to interpret every symbol individually.”

“I would not.”

“You would so! It’s who you are! But control that urge and just listen for now, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You can be moody at times, which you’re displaying right this minute, but —”

“See? Hopeless.”

“No! Stop whining and listen! You’re also a highly original thinker who needs the stimulation of good intellectual connections. Your chart clearly indicates that you’ll be happier if you expand your views and your value system.” Her eyes flashed with blue fire. “So there. You need me.”

In spite of himself, a smile tugged at his mouth. No man could look at Darcie in full battle mode and not smile. “You know what? I think you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.”

He reached out and grasped the arms of her chair so he could roll her close. Their knees bumped. “You know what I need right now?”

“What?” Her voice had a slight quiver to it.

“A kiss.” His voice was perfectly even, but then he’d had a lot of wine to calm any nervousness. Wine also tended to make him moody, like she’d said, but also steady as a rock when it came to this next thing. He took off his glasses and laid them on the small table beside the chair. “Lean down here for a minute. Let’s try this without making a big deal out of it.”

“You want me to lean down and kiss you.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes, I do, because we have to start somewhere, and I think kissing when we can put some distance between body parts is wise, all things considered.”

“What things?”

“Our disparate careers, but mostly our common problem, fear of intimacy. Let’s just kiss without getting intimate and see how that works out.”

She leaned closer, but not close enough. “A kiss is pretty intimate. Some people think it’s the most intimate gesture of all.”

“What do you think?”

She edged a little nearer. “I think you have the most sensuous mouth I’ve ever seen on a man.”

“I assume that’s a good thing.”

“It could be a very good thing if you know how to use it.”

He cupped her head and slid his fingers through her luxurious hair. “Then come on down, Darcie Ingram. Let’s find out if I do.”

Chapter Six

Darcie gripped the arms of the easy chair for balance as she closed the distance between her mouth and Nolan’s. He held her head, and despite her focus on his lovely mouth, she registered the gentle way he cradled her in those big hands. She remembered that even in high school he’d had big hands and big feet. She should have known he’d grow into them someday.

For a couple of seconds she allowed herself to contemplate what else about Nolan might be big, and that thought warmed her in those places he’d decided not to snuggle up to quite yet. Then his fingers tightened on her scalp and he brought her within inches of his mouth. Right before touchdown, she closed her eyes and surrendered to whatever this kiss might become. She’d read his chart and she had some expectations, but even she could be guilty of wishful thinking.

In this case, her wishes came true. His emotional depth, something she’d decided not to mention because she’d embarrass him, came shining through. He began the kiss softly, making no demands, only requests. He explored her mouth with great tenderness while he gave her a taste of the velvet perfection of his. The care he took with that exploration moved her in a way that a frantic, desperate kiss could never have done.

He was right about touching only lips this time. She could concentrate on that single sensation and feel the nuances as he changed his angle, as he began to use his tongue, as he nibbled and stroked while he combed his fingers through her hair.

First kisses so often were awkward, so often a rushed business. Far too many of the men she’d kissed seemed to think it was a necessary preliminary, something a guy had to do because it was expected while he really only wanted to grope, fondle, and get her naked. If Nolan was thinking that, she’d never guess it from the pleasure he seemed to derive from sliding his mouth over hers in an erotic dance of seduction.

Of the two of them, she was the first one to exhibit impatience. If he kissed this well, then he must be darned good at the rest of it. The longer his mouth toyed with hers, the damper her panties became and the more restlessly her hips moved.

She squirmed on her chair and leaned closer, silently inviting him to touch her aching breasts that hovered within easy reach. When he didn’t accept that invitation, she moaned softly, hoping he’d take the hint. She knew he was onto her when his mouth, still pressed to hers, curved into a smile.

He separated them by a couple of inches, and his voice was husky, but amused. “What?”

“You know what. You’re a good kisser. Now I’m really hot.”

His breath warmed her face. “Me, too.”

“Are we going to do something about that?”

He hesitated.

“You have to think about it?”

“Yeah.” He sounded uncertain. “I do.”

A light bulb went off. “Because you didn’t bring anything?” Silly her. He wasn’t the type to carry a condom with him at all times, and she certainly didn’t have any.

“Actually, I did bring something.”

“What?” She pulled back to stare at him. “You brought a condom with you tonight?” Her whole perception of him shifted. She’d never imagined Dr. Nolan Bradbury as the kind of man who’d walk around carrying a condom. “Is it an old one you keep in your wallet?”

That was the more likely scenario, and it was kind of cute, actually. He was pretty darned cute, too, all flushed from their kisses. She liked looking into his sparkly eyes when he wasn’t wearing glasses.