The Bare Facts Read Online Free PDF

orange towel from her head, freeing her heavy hair.
    She hadn’t the heart to tell him that she wasn’t wearing something sexy.
    She wondered who Deborah Donovan was. Probably one of his women. She finished off her toast. Suddenly, Haley felt very fragile and very shaky inside. She closed her eyes, clenching her jaw against her own emotions. She knew in her heart that she couldn’t accept a man who was not faithful. It was a tough, ingrained part of her personality, formed by two loving parents who had taught her well. It wouldn’t be smart to start anything with him.
    But she was such a fool. How many times had she relived that kiss last night? The way his mouth hadmoved over hers was like heaven. His hair had been so soft beneath her fingers, the skin of his nape hot and smooth. She wanted to take Deborah Donovan apart inch by inch.
    She looked up at the clock on the wall. She had no more time for daydreaming. Finishing off the rest of the toast on her plate, she rushed to her bedroom to get dressed. She had a thousand things to do today and at the top of her list were raspberry sauce and a bearskin rug.
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    H OURS LATER with a large faux white bearskin rug she’d found at FAO Schwarz, Haley got into the back seat of a cab as her stomach rumbled. Glancing down at her watch, she discovered it was noon.
    She leaned forward and told the cabbie, “Figaro’s in the Village, please.” With a slashing motion he started the meter and they pulled recklessly into traffic. Being a seasoned New Yorker, Haley didn’t even notice. She was wondering if she’d lost her mind. Hadn’t she just told herself that she couldn’t get involved with Dylan on a personal level?
    Lunch wasn’t that personal. It was just food and conversation. Friends and acquaintances did it all the time. When the cab pulled up in front of Figaro’s, Haley looked out the window into the renowned restaurant that was frequented by many high-level executives. Her breath stopped in her lungs when she recognized Dylan sitting at a cozy table for two with a striking redhead, who leaned forward and touched Dylan’s arm intimately.
    Something tightened painfully around her heart. Something sharp and burning. Her anticipation drained out of her like water from a tub. And she knew what that something was. It was hope. Hope that she would find him alone and waiting for her. Only her.
    In defense, her anger flared for allowing herself to care, for the hot rush of her pulse, for being so stupidly stupid. It was none of her business what Dylan did for lunch or with whom he did it. It couldn’t matter to her.
    It seemed that he had someone waiting in the wings after she’d turned him down. Well, it showed her she was right about his skirt-chasing ways.
    She had lied about lunch with her editor for a reason. She didn’t want any datelike ties with him. This had to be about sex and only sex or Haley would lose her objectivity and fall in love with the rogue. That could not happen.
    Haley sighed when it began to sleet. The chunks of ice made a hollow thumping sound against the cab’s windshield. She thought that might be what loneliness sounded like.
    â€œCould you pull over here? I have to pick up something at the store.”
    â€œSure, lady. It’s your dime.”
    Haley got out, turning her coat collar up against the biting wind. She carefully made her way into the store. When she found the raspberry sauce, she picked up the jar.
    What she envisioned for this seemingly benign jarof sauce was wicked. So wicked. She had to keep her goal in mind. Make a success out of her columns and Kate would have to let her write articles.
    As her father would always say to her, “Honey, always keep your eye on the ball.” She could do that. She’d make herself do that.
    As she placed the sauce on the counter and dug around in her purse for her wallet, she wondered sadly if Dylan had inscribed her name