Tame An Older Man

'Hmm, I like swimming. And I always thought tennis would be fun.'

'I like swimming. We could go to the beach.'

'I like pools,' she said. 'The ocean scares me.'

'What about hockey?'

'To play or watch?'

'Watch.'

'Um, I've never tried. But I'm willing. I understand Frannie and Bill go to games. And James, Elise's fiance, has season tickets.'

'I like your friends.'

Phoebe hated to end the closeness they'd achieved, but she had to. She yawned and slowly pulled herself out of Wyatt's embrace. 'I have to go, you know. Before Mama sends the National Guard after me.'

'You think she doesn't trust me?' Wyatt asked, all innocence.

'Would you trust you?'

He laughed. 'No.'

'She liked you,' Phoebe said as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. 'But then, she likes any guy who's polite, clean cut, and well dressed.' She couldn't quite make herself stand up. In a total lapse of self-discipline, she draped herself over Wyatt, leaning her head against his chest. 'Actually, it's a good thing she knows I've got my hooks in you. It could save you.'

'From what?'

'From my mother throwing herself at you. She pretty much does that with any unattached man between thirty- five and sixty-five who has all his teeth and no prison record.'

He chuckled, the low vibration tickling Phoebe's ear where it rested against his chest. 'If you're so dead set against your mother's manhunting activities, maybe you should set a better example for her.'

'I did not hunt you down. You just… happened.'

'I wasn't talking about me. I'm talking about those college boys.'

Phoebe stiffened. Maybe she'd misunderstood. Hadn't she already cleared up his misconception about her activities at the college? 'I told you, I'm not trolling the university for a husband.'

'Oh, I know. You've made your position on marriage very clear.'

Was there just a tinge of disapproval in his voice? she wondered.

'But just because you're not interested in a ring,' he continued, 'doesn't mean you don't need companionship.'

Phoebe's blood began to simmer. How dare he assume- But before she could tell him where to stick his theories about her need for companionship, he went on.

'You know, a mature lover has a lot more to offer than one of those college whelps.'

'For instance?' she asked sharply.

'Financial stability, which means I can take you out someplace nice once in a while, instead of buying you a sub sandwich. A nice car instead of an old junker. Clearly defined expectations. And no acne or adolescent angst. I got over the abandonment issues a long time ago.'

Phoebe sat up suddenly, all her warm feelings for Wyatt dissipating. He must not think much of her to believe she would weigh the pros and cons of bedding her boss versus a college classmate.

'Phoebe, what's wrong?'

'I have to go.'

He sat up, too. 'No, wait. I shouldn't have said all that. I was just teasing. I didn't mean to make light of what just happened. But you have to admit, we can't keep kidding ourselves. We've got something special going here, and though it might be damn inconvenient for both of us, I think we should work with it. That's all I meant.'

Phoebe searched for and found her panties and dragged them on. How could she tell him it wasn't the light mood that offended her. After all, there was something a little bit funny about their predicament-wanting each other so badly they just threw aside their oh-so-soberly negotiated, nonsexual friendship.

What did upset her were his assumptions. She had told him flat out that she had no romantic interest in college boys, but apparently he just couldn't wrap his mind around any other reason she might head for the university every day after work.

She was just going to have to disabuse him of those notions, now, wasn't she? And she saw no better time than now. So what if he laughed at her or thought her goals preposterous? His opinion of her couldn't get much lower than it already was.

'Has it ever occurred to you to wonder what classes I'm taking at ASU?'

Chapter 12

Wyatt watched as Phoebe found her shirt and stretched it over her head and arms. Sensing that he wasn't going to dissuade her from dressing-or leaving-he sat up and reached for his own shirt.

'I guess I didn't think about it much,' he admitted. 'I figured you were taking something related to your career.'

'You mean like Cosmetics 101?' She settled a piercing gaze on him that made him very uncomfortable.

'Or some kind of advanced drama classes. You were interested in acting once,' he reasoned, 'and I assume you enjoyed it. Even if you aren't planning to act professionally, I could see you taking classes to keep your skills sharp.'

Apparently that wasn't the right answer.

He tried again. 'If the truth be known, I assumed you were taking continuing education classes because you wanted something to occupy your time, and because you had a social structure at the college, a group of friends that study together or trade notes or… or…'

'Or hang out at the malt shop together?'

He was just digging himself deeper, wasn't he. 'Apparently I assumed wrong?'

She said nothing as she pulled on her slacks.

'Well, if I'm so badly misinformed, it's because you've never volunteered any information. I figured if it was anything important, you'd have said something.'

'I'm studying biochemistry,' she said abruptly.

'What?' He burst out in nervous laughter. It sounded as if she'd said biochemistry.

'I'm a biochemistry major,' she said, enunciating every word, 'with a business minor. I have less than two years to go for my degree if I continue to carry my current class load. This semester I'm taking Organic Chemistry, Statistics, Calculus and PE. I have to carry twelve hours or I lose my scholarship.'

'You have a scholarship? In bio-bio-' He couldn't believe this. Phoebe Lane, glamorous TV actress and makeup artist, wanted to be a biochemist? 'Why?'

'Because I like it. Because I'm good at it. And because when I graduate, I'm going to start my own all-natural cosmetics firm, Bio-Techniques. I've already trademarked the name.'

Wyatt's head was spinning. This put a whole new light on the Phoebe Lane he knew. Or the one he thought he knew.

She flipped on the light. 'You look a little shell-shocked.'

'That's because you just turned on the light. But I am… surprised. I mean, I think it's wonderful you have all these goals and plans, but…'

'But you can't imagine why a pretty girl like me would want to worry her pretty little head over big, bad subjects like math and science?'

'I did not say that.'

'But you were thinking it.'

He couldn't deny it. Yes, he was shocked. 'How are you doing?'

'Well, all those big numbers are sooooo confusing,' she said in a little-girl lisp, 'and I have just a terrible time with some of the big words-'