Page 48 of Not the Plan

“Sorry! Oh God, sorry.” She shook her head, turning awayfrom him. “I’m a transplant too. Undergrad and master’s at Berkeley. Then I stayed.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he laughed, glancing at her again.

“Yes, I do! Excuse me.” She covered her eyes. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be,” he said. “I’d be checking you out too, if it wouldn’t get us both killed.” He winked at her.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She observed him another moment, her lips bunched to one side.

“You have created a conundrum, Mr. Sarda.”

“Have I? How so?”

She racked her brain to find a cool, yet diplomatic, yet sexy and not desperate-sounding way to explain. A pinball in a machine, bouncing and zooming from one point to another, would have had more clarity about its situation than she did. She gritted her teeth.

“Can I be blunt with you? Honest?”

He glanced at her, like he was afraid he was in trouble.

“Please do.”

“I had averynaughty dream about you last night.”

He laughed. “Really?” The visible half of his face turned wicked. A wicked that sent a sizzle over her breasts, down her stomach, and forced her to readjust herself in her seat.

“Can you tell me about it?” he asked.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? Don’t you need to concentrate on driving?”

“Good point, Isadora. But…uh…I’ll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours.”

“You had one too?” The idea sent a cool tingle all through her. She became more glowing orb than zooming pinball.

“I did. Well, when I got home, I was rather tense. So, I needed torelaxa bit before I went to sleep.” He released and re-gripped the steering wheel, readjusted himself in the seat. She couldn’tbelieve he was admitting to thinking about her that way. “That little exercise set me up for a couple of explicit dreams.”

“I see.”

He glanced at her, his smile dimming. “Did I offend you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Telling you I…um…”

“No,” she said.You said be blunt. Be. Blunt.“I’m surprised how much that…turned me on.” She focused on the scenery. The glow abated but lit right back up when she peeked at him.

“Turned you on?”

“Yes,” she said, nervous. But the truth tasted good.

“I see.” His wicked smile flashed again. “So?”

“So?”

“You gotta tell me about this dream.”

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