Page 94 of Making Over Maris

“No. About letting them think… You know.” She shrugged. “I’m not good at keeping secrets.” Not those kinds of secrets.

He nodded. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it. They don’t need to know everything.”

“They really don’t need to know everything,” she laughed.

The hint of horror in his eyes made her laugh harder. And it reminded her. About tonight.

“Speaking of that…” She went all sexy and sultry—with a hint of Domme. “I have another assignment for you, you naughty boy.”

He sat up straighter, adjusted himself in the seat. His voice dropped an octave. “Do you?”

“For tonight.”

He paled. “Tonight?”

“Yes, Jack. Here’s what I want you to do—”

“I can’t. Not tonight.”

She stilled in surprise. What? Well hell. That kicked her right out of the mood. He’d never said no before. “Why the fuck not?”

“I have…a thing.”

“A thing?” Sara shot a look across the hall into Jenny’s office. Was it a thing with Jenny? Because if it was, she’d have to smack them both—

“A private thing.”

Her heart dropped. A private thing? Something he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—share with her? She didn’t like this. She didn’t like this at all. Not the prospect that there was a part of his life she wasn’t privy to. Not the feeling of desperation and that nasty curl of oh-so-familiar disenchantment writhing in her gut. And how pathetic was she to be so needy? So clingy? The feelings behind the panic horrified her. It meant she cared and maybe cared too much.

But if she did, it was far too late. She was utterly lost to him. And he had a private thing.

Dread trickled through her. Was this it, then? The beginning of the end?

What was it about men? Her relationships with them? Why did they always have to go tits up?

And this one—this one would devastate her.

She rearranged the paper clips on her desk. Mangled one. “Fine.”

His gaze sharpened on her face. He studied her and then shook his head. “Why did you say ‘fine’ like it really wasn’t fine?”

“It’s fine, Jack. Fine. Now if you don’t mind, I have work to do.”

“No. It’s not fine. Sara, tell me what you’re thinking.”

She pressed her lips together and glared at him.

“Come on, Sara.” He lowered his voice an octave, the way he did when he was trying to be all adamant and shit. “Throw me a frickin’ bone. You know I’m clueless about women. You know you’re alien creatures to me. We’ve covered that.” He shifted restlessly. “You have to tell me what I did wrong.”

“Isn’t it clear?”

“No. It’s not clear.”

“You have a thing.”

“Yeah?”

“A private thing.”