A Good Little Girl Like You (A Sample)

Rebecca went back inside and got a gin and tonic. She

sat at a table with her back to the room and nursed it for as

long as she could, trying not to think about her brush with

the muscle man. She had nowhere else to go, and nobody

bothered her there. A few moments of calm in the middle

of the noisy crowd-just what she needed. Still, Tarzan's

smile was seared into her brain.

Who am I kidding? He wasn't coming back for her-

he'd gone off with Bubbles. They were probably at a motel

by now. Rebecca slumped in her chair and stared at the

ceiling, a dazzling array of lights sparkling across the festive

hall. Her eyes took it all in, unfocused and lost in a mild

alcoholic haze. When she got to the bottom of the glass, she

tossed back the last drops and lowered her head.

"Good thing I missed the wedding. You look much

better in green." The voice was deep and soft, but it jolted

her because she knew who it was without even looking up.

She inhaled sharply and raised her eyes to see Tarzan

standing there, smiling like the king of the jungle.

Rebecca's heart couldn't decide whether to beat faster or

just give up and stop. She forced herself to act normal.

"Who taught you about color?"

"My two older sisters. Both of them dedicated to

making my life miserable, one way or another." His gray eyes

twinkled. "What are you drinking?"

Rebecca raised her tumbler. "Gin and tonic. What about

you?"

"Straight bourbon. I'd go fetch drinks for us, but I can't

seem to stop looking at you. So I'm going to have to insist

that you accompany me to the bar." He held out his hand.

This guy is putting major moves on me. Rebecca gave

him a look of guarded excitement. She understood why he

had danced with Bubbles, but now he was back and that

was completely unexpected. It didn't make sense. Gorgeous

and smooth, he even knew about color.

She narrowed her eyes and looked up at him. "I've got to

say, you are much more polished than I would expect from a

jungle boy."

He raised an eyebrow. "Jungle boy? I'm a surfer, can't

you tell?" He held his arms out, floating them up and down

as if trying to balance on an imaginary surfboard.

Rebecca got up and watched him pretend to surf. As she

walked around him, his eyes tracked her every step, exciting

her with his rapt attention. Finally, she nodded. "Okay,

surfer dude. I get it. Sorry about the jungle reference, but