“With one of your suitors?” he asked with definite distaste. “You can’t be serious.”

She tried not to laugh, but with his use of the antiquated term, now she was certain. Riley was squirming. And she was female enough to enjoy his discomfort.

“I didn’t realize our relationship dictated I had to explain or answer to you.” She focused on her freshly done nails. “Oh, that’s right. We don’t have a relationship.”

He rose and rounded the desk. Looming over her, he gripped the sides of her chair and leaned close. She inhaled, taking in his fresh scent and trying to ignore the sexual desire galloping through her. Apparently her body didn’t understand what her mind and heart already did.

“I thought when two people slept together, they had something,” he said, his eyes flashing with equal parts desire and determination.

She didn’t know where this change of heart had come from, and emotionally, she couldn’t afford to find out. Around Riley, self-protection would be a smart tactic.

“And I thought when the last words exchanged after sex were ‘I’m going to pack,’ that something equaled nothing.”

“I don’t call what’s happening between us right now nothing.” His lips hovered over hers, teasing. Tantalizing.

She fisted her hands, digging her nails into her skin to avoid acting on that something and kissing him senseless.

“Riley?” she said on a husky purr, one she couldn’t control.

“Hmm?”

“We had fun and all, but I am not going there again.” She couldn’t get a handle on his varying mood swings. She didn’t know how to deal with a man like him, nor did she have the inclination to try.

He’d already proved how easily he could turn on her. Since she couldn’t control Riley-or her feelings for him-she had to send him away now. Before she let herself care even more. It was the only means of preservation she could think of, because he was a man sure to leave again. At some point, it would be for good.

“Would it help if I said I was wrong?” he asked.

She shut her eyes, steeling herself against his gentle voice and implied apology. “We’re different, Riley.”

“Opposites attract.”

“We’re like oil and water. We don’t mix.”

“I prefer to think of us as a more combustible combination.” He turned his head and his lips settled on her cheek in a soft kiss. “Want to see the sparks?”

She lifted her hands to his shoulders and pushed him away. “It was fun but it’s over. No more quickies for us.” She spun her chair back around and stood, gesturing toward the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.”

“You must be extra busy. I heard about the computer virus and how the contracts were distributed without permission,” he said, understanding and sympathy in his voice.

“You don’t have anything to worry about. None of our clients do. Our lawyers are on top of the situation. Everything’s fine.”

He grinned. “Glad to hear it. Then you can come for dinner. You have to take a break to eat anyway.”

“I told you I have plans,” she lied.

He shrugged, seemingly undeterred and unfazed. “Break them.”

“No.”

“You can’t possibly want to go out with one of these bozos,” he said, waving at the flowers.

“You mean after having experienced the great Riley Nash?” she asked, forcing a laugh. “You know what? It’s time for you to leave. You have no right to show up here and make demands. You have even less right to act like a jealous idiot. You made your choice, now I’m making mine.” She turned her back and waited for whatever comeback he had.

Seconds that felt like minutes passed in silence. Suddenly she heard footsteps walking away.

She exhaled hard, grateful that she could now deal with the lump in her throat and lead weight in her chest. Slowly she retreated to her desk and lowered herself into her chair, closing her eyes.

When she opened them, Riley still stood in the doorway. “I’m glad to see you’re more affected than you wanted me to realize.”

“You’re a weasel,” she muttered.

“No, babe, I just don’t do the things you expect, and you know what? You like that about me. You don’t know how to deal with me, but you do enjoy me.”

She lifted the first thing she could find, a block of sticky notes, and leveled it across the room, but the lightweight object dropped uselessly to the floor.

“When you decide to come around, we could work on your throwing arm.” He grinned.

She grabbed for another object.

He laughed and ducked out the door before she could hurl the paperweight at him.

Alone, she slammed her hand on the intercom button and told her secretary to hold all her calls and turn away any visitors.

The urge to run after him was strong, but Sophie knew better and she was not going to give herself a chance to second-guess her decision to turn him away. No, she was going to move on. She was going to go out and have fun, to heck with the man who wanted to turn her life upside down.

She headed to Cindy’s office and they agreed to go to Quarters, the new it sports bar in town, for drinks after work. Anything to keep her mind off of Riley, she thought. And when Roper called once more, she invited him to join them.

RILEY LEFT Sophie and met up with Mike by the elevators. They headed for Houston’s for some decent ribs and a good amount of beer. Riley knew he was feeling sorry for himself for not getting through to Sophie, but he couldn’t help it. He was a man who usually got his way with a charming smile or good-old-boy wink. Sophie made him work for what he wanted and he knew damn well that was part of her allure. Not that he desired her only because he couldn’t have her, but he did admire her resolve.

Like a good, solid football game, the one who hung in there the longest was bound to win. If Riley understood nothing else, it was determination.

He was preoccupied with his thoughts and, thank God, Mike was smart enough to shut up and eat. His friend didn’t push for conversation, nor did he give Riley a hard time about obviously striking out with Sophie. For that, Riley paid the dinner bill and when Mike suggested they hit Quarters Sports Bar next, a place co-owned by one of their ex-teammates, Riley agreed. Some more liquor felt like a good idea about now.

No sooner had he entered the bar than his cell phone rang. He glanced down, saw his mother’s Mississippi number and stepped outside to take the call in private.

“Mom?” he asked, as he snapped the phone open.

“No, son, it’s your father,” Harlan said.

Riley leaned against the glass front beneath a large awning. “How are you?” he asked. He’d been meaning to call home, but dreaded the inevitable conversation with his mother about Spencer.

For a long time, he’d thought he wanted more information, but since actually meeting the man, he’d done everything he could to avoid learning the truth. Had they been in love? Or had Riley been Spencer’s misguided way of trying to get over being gay? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, so he’d sidestepped the very people who probably had the answers.

“Life’s good. Your mother said you’ve been impossible to reach lately and I promised her I’d get in touch.”

Riley heard the unspoken reproach. “I’m not in a place where I can talk. I should’ve called but I’ve been busy. Tell Mother I’ll call first thing in the morning.”

His stepfather cleared his throat. “What happened in Florida?” the senator asked without warning.

Riley stiffened. “How did you know I was in Florida?” He hadn’t told his mother he’d gone to seek out Spencer.

“Knowledge is my business, son.”

Riley studied the dirty underside of the awning. He didn’t appreciate his stepfather keeping tabs on him. “I like to think my life is my own.”

“It is, but you have to realize my right hand and I need to stay on top of this tawdry gossip story about your…er…about Spencer Atkins,” Harlan said, lowering his voice.

Ridiculous, Riley thought. It wasn’t as if anybody was listening. “So far nobody’s found out about my relationship to the man. I don’t see that changing.”

“It’s in all of our best interests that it doesn’t.”

“I realize that.” And he’d intended to ask Sophie to keep an ear out at the office for any sign of trouble, but he’d never gotten that far.

The fact was, the woman had him so tied up in knots, he couldn’t think straight.

“Riley? I asked how your off-season workouts are going.”

“Just fine. Listen, I have to run but give Mom my love and don’t worry about anything. Things here are under control,” he said to reassure the older man.

“I know that they are,” Harlan said in his typically self-assured way. “I’m certain Spencer Atkins has his hands full with his own crises, and reporters are too busy digging into his current problems to worry about his past.”

Riley nodded. “I take it you also heard that his agency had a major computer meltdown and his form contracts were sent out over the Internet? Hundreds of contacts and business associates who had no business knowing what was in those documents now do.”

Harlan actually chuckled. “I did hear something to that effect.”

Riley shook his head, as always in awe of the man and his ability to unearth private information. “You are good.”

“Yes, well, as a politician, I must keep myself informed of everything and anything that might affect my position or my family.”

“I understand.” He’d grown up with Harlan’s philosophy imprinted on his brain.

Position first, family a close second, both intertwined, Riley thought. Harlan would do almost anything to make sure his senate seat and run for the White House was protected. “I’ll talk to you soon,” Riley promised.

“You bet.”

Riley disconnected and headed back for the bar and a nice strong drink. A hard drink, one a step up from beer. Before he had the chance to order, he heard a familiar laugh and his gut clenched with unmistakable awareness.