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did you expect?” Unsure of his swift moods, she sipped her tea and waited.
    “I don’t know, exactly.” He stewed in silence for a few moments, then snatched up the box of donuts and offered them to her.
    Lisa shook her head. “No, thank you. I try to avoid that much sugar.”
    He didn’t remove the box. “Live a little.” Eyes darkening, he said, “Again.”
    That flustered her enough that she picked out a cream-filled donut before she knew what she was doing. Hart set the box down, put his elbows on the table, and leaned toward her, waiting for her to take a bite.
    As soon as she did, he smiled. “Good?”
    It was. “Sinful, almost.”
    “Yeah.” He watched her so closely, she felt self-conscious. “A little sinfulness is good for you.”
    “Depends on the sin, I’d say.”
    “And who you’re sinning with.”
    Okay, enough of that. She couldn’t banter with him. Not this early. “Let’s get started.”
    He went very still. “Yeah, let’s.”
    “You’re incorrigible.” She couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Now, have any—”
    The ringing of his cell cut her off.
    Again he glanced at the phone, then at her, and he shrugged. “Sorry. Go ahead.”
    Curiosity burned her. “If it’s the same woman calling, then pe r ha ps—”
    “No.”
    Maybe she’d throw her tea at him after all. The cup was small and dainty, so it wouldn’t hurt him overly, and the tea had cooled, so . . .
    “Lisa?”
    She gave up on that particular fantasy. “Have any new women come on to you?”
    “Define ‘new.’ ”
    Her eyes narrowed. “A woman you aren’t already familiar with. A woman you haven’t dated before.”
    “Or slept with?”
    Meaning he slept with women he hadn’t formally dated? Of course he had. “Yes.”
    Hart hesitated. “Maybe, but like I said, I’ve been busy training, and not dating.”
    He had to be kidding her—but he didn’t look like it was a joke. “Not dating?”
    He shrugged. “Aka, not seeing anyone.”
    Lisa snorted. “Aka, not—”
    “Sleeping with anyone. Exactly.”
    Astounded, she dropped back in her seat. “You’re telling me that you’ve been celibate? Since when?”
    “For far too long, honey.” He left his seat and moved toward her. “Since I slept with you, actually.”

Three
     
    Hart saw Lisa’s chest expand with a sharply indrawn breath. He knew what she expected him to do, but he was done being predictable. She thought she had him all figured out, and he wanted to surprise her.
    He paused beside her, smiled, and moved on past to get a napkin off the counter.
    When he returned to his seat, she still looked shell-shocked.
    And his stupid phone rang again.
    Cursing under his breath, Hart glanced at the number with disinterest. “Lisa, I don’t want you to think—”
    “No,” she said, and she scurried from her seat to get a notepad and pen. “This is good.”
    She sounded rattled—which he counted as a good thing. If he confused her enough, maybe she’d give up her rock-solid and not-too-complimentary impressions of him, and really get to know him.
    She tossed the pad and pen toward him. “Start keeping track of the women trying to reach you. And you’ll have to answer, to see who wants to hook up.”
    Damn, but she looked good today. He’d never imagined her in jeans, but the casual clothes suited her. And her sexy little toes . . . she must keep up on her pedicures, because her feet defined femininity: narrow and soft with a high arch . . .
    “Hart, are you listening to me?”
    “I was fantasizing about your feet, actually. Sorry.”
    She stared at him. “My feet?”
    “Yeah.” He shook his head. “You were saying . . . ?”
    After snatching up another donut, she pointed to the paper. “You need to track any woman who is interested in you.”
    Smiling, Hart picked up the pen and wrote down a name.
    She peered across the table, trying to see, so Hart turned the pad for her to read.
    She saw her own name written there, and laughed.