LITMIR.BIZ

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me—”

      The door to Buck’s office opened then, and he stepped out, his sharp gaze quickly taking in the temper sparking in her eyes and Hunter’s wide grin. “Uh-oh. Looks like the fur’s about to fly. Better watch yourself, Hunter. The last time I saw that look in her eye, I thought she was going to pull out every hair in my head. And all just because I borrowed her bicycle without asking her.”

      “You didn’t just borrow it—you brought it back with a flat tire,” she told him, fighting a reluctant smile. “And I didn’t lay a hand on that precious hair of yours. Though I should have,” she added, frowning at him. “You never did pay me for that tire.”

      “Send me a bill,” he chuckled. “So what did Hunter do to set you off?”

      “Nothing,” he said with an easy grin before she could open her mouth. “She’s just a little huffy because she thinks I’m following her. All I was doing was going to the kitchen for a snack.”

      “Really?” she sniffed. “You’re hungry? We just finished dinner an hour ago.”

      “I didn’t eat much,” he retorted. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

      “Oh, please!”

      Laughing, Buck stepped around them. “I’m out of here.”

      “Buck, wait!”

      “Can’t,” he said. “Rainey and I are going to watch a movie.”

      He was gone before she could stop him, leaving her alone with Hunter. “Looks like it’s just you and me, kid,” he drawled. “C’mon, let’s go check out the Internet and see what kind of online dating services are out there.”

      “You must be joking.”

      At her dry comment, he swallowed a laugh. Damn, he liked her! She was just so easy to tease. Did she have a clue how cute she was when she looked down her nose at him that way? Maybe he should ask her out and save her the trouble of joining a dating service. They could have a lot of fun together.

      Even as the appealing thought tugged at him, he stiffened. No, dammit, he wasn’t going there. After Sheila had betrayed him the way she had, he’d sworn he would never trust a woman again. And in the five years that had passed since Sheila had tried to have him killed, he hadn’t once been tempted to break that promise to himself.

      That didn’t mean he’d turned into a hermit. He liked women, enjoyed their company, not to mention sex. And finding a date wasn’t a problem. He just made sure that the women he took out were just as disillusioned as he was and wanted nothing to do with a ring on their fingers. Even then, he didn’t date any woman more than twice. He didn’t intend to ever again give a woman a chance to get close enough to betray him.

      “What?” he asked innocently. “You don’t trust me?”

      “Not as far as I can throw you,” she retorted sweetly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with a computer.”

      Without a word, she turned and walked into Buck’s office, but if she thought he was so easily discouraged, she was in for a rude awakening. When she took a seat in front of the computer on Buck’s desk, he followed her and pulled a chair beside her before she even knew what he was about.

      “Hunter—”

      “I can help you with your profile,” he said at her warning tone. Thanks to his years in intelligence, he was damn good at sizing up a person, though he had no intention of telling her how he’d come by that kind of experience. “C’mon, Kitty-Kat, lighten up. If you want to get a good match, you want to word this thing just right. I can give you a man’s perspective.”

      “I’m sure you will,” she said dryly. “Thanks, but no, thanks.”

      “How are you going to describe yourself?”

      “That’s none of your business.”

      “Let me guess,” he said, eyeing her speculatively. “You’ll probably say you’re cute, outgoing, artistic, with weight proportionate to your height.” When her blue eyes widened in surprise, he grinned mockingly. “Am I right or what?”

      “So what if you are?” she tossed back. “What’s wrong with that?”

      “You’re writing for a man, remember?” he pointed out. “Cute means ordinary, outgoing likes to hog the conversation.”

      “That’s not true!”

      “Artistic means you have one of those old houses that’s decorated with lace and fru-fru flowery stuff. And weight proportionate to height can mean only one thing. You’re fat.”

      “I am not!”

      “Of course you’re not. But that’s what any man who reads that description is going to think. And that’s okay if you don’t care that the only men who answer your ad are losers who still live with their mothers and wear their pants up to their armpits. Of course, if that’s what you want…”

      Horrified, she cringed. “No, of course not.”

      “Then you’re going to have to write a hell of a better description than that.”

      She should have told him no. From the glint in his eye, he was enjoying himself far too much, and for all she knew, he was just pulling her leg. But what if he wasn’t kidding? If she was really going to join a dating service, the last thing she wanted was to attract one of those lonely, nerdy men who’d never had a woman in his life and wouldn’t know what to do with one if he did.

      “All right,” she sighed. “If you’re really serious about helping me…but no funny business! Understood?”

      “Yes, ma’am,” he replied obediently, his grin wide. “Whatever you say, ma’am.”

      He did, of course, do nothing but tease and torment her for the course of the next hour, and she couldn’t help but laugh. When they were finished, however, she had to admit that her profile sounded far better than something she would have written herself. Still, she wasn’t sure.

      “It sounds like I’m tooting my own horn,” she said, frowning. “Maybe we should tone some of this down.”

      “Are you kidding? Like what?”

      “Well, like…‘adventuresome’…”

      “Didn’t you go off to Scotland by yourself when you found out that jerk you were in love with was married? Didn’t you jump on a plane and head for Colorado without even letting your family know you were coming until you were almost here?”

      “Well, yes, but—” Frowning, she studied the words on the computer screen that made her sound like a fascinating catch that any man with any brains in his head would love to be matched with. “Maybe we shouldn’t include the bit about me being an award-winning illustrator.”

      “But you are, aren’t you?” When she had to agree, he said, “You’re just telling the truth. And don’t think for one minute that I’m going to let you take out the part about pretty. This isn’t the time for hiding your light under a bushel. You are pretty, and if it was left up to me, I’d say you were downright gorgeous—”

      “You’re flirting again,” she scolded. “You’ve got to stop that.”

      “No, I’m not,” he retorted, and there was no question that he was dead serious. “You’re gorgeous, but I know you won’t go for that, so we have to go with pretty. That’s okay. Because when you finally let your matches see your picture, they’re going to know the truth, anyway.”

      She didn’t consider herself gorgeous by any stretch of the imagination—that word was reserved for movie stars and beauty pageant queens—but she couldn’t deny that she was flattered. If he hadn’t been such a flirt, she might have believed he was sincere.

      “Okay, so it’s settled. We leave

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