She placed a hand on the car and looked at the back of the house. "I'm sure you've guessed why I asked you to walk out here with me. We need to talk about what happened the other night." She shook her head and opened her mouth to say more but nothing came out. She lifted her hand from the back of the Lexis then set it back down again. "I'm not sure where to begin."

He could help her out. Clear things up real fast and tell her they hadn't slept together, but it wasn't his job to make her life easier. One thing he'd learned from his years as a journalist was to just sit tight and listen. He leaned his hip into the car, crossed his arms over his chest, and waited. Several thin strips of sunlight picked out deep auburn strands in her brown hair, and the only reason he could think of for why he even noticed was because he was trained to notice small details. It was his job.

"I'm guessing we met in the bar at the Double Tree," she began again.

"That's right. You were throwing back Yaggermeister with some guy wearing a backward ball cap and a wife beater." Which was the truth. Then he broke his just sit back and listen rule and added a little lie for fun. "He had a nose ring and was missing a few teeth."

"Oh God." She pulled her fingers into a fist. "I'm not sure I want to know every detail. I mean I probably should- up to a point anyway. It's just that . . ." she paused and swallowed hard. Sebastian's gaze slid from her mouth, down her throat to the top button of her blouse. She was wound tight, but there was another side of her. One he'd seen the other night. One that didn't pull her hair back and string pearls around her neck before noon. He wondered if she was wearing that pink bustier beneath her bland suit. It had been dark in the hotel room, and he hadn't gotten a real good look at it before she'd whipped it off. "I'm usually not the sort of woman to drink myself into oblivion or invite men to my hotel room. You probably don't believe that, and I don't blame you. I . . . had a really bad day, which you already know about," she rambled. As Sebastian listened, he let his mind drift, and he wondered if she had on a thong beneath that virginal suit. Like the one she'd worn the other night. That thong had rocked. He wouldn't mind seeing that thong again. Not that he liked Clare much. He didn't, but not every woman could wear a thong and look that good in it. He'd traveled the world and seen his share of thong clad women. It took a woman with a firm butt and just the right junk in her trunk to pull off a thong.

". . . condom."

Whoa . "What?" He looked back into her face. Her cheeks were turning a bright shade of red. "Come again?"

"I need to know if you used a condom the other night. I don't know if you were as inebriated as I was, but I hope you remembered. I realize that it was my responsibility . . . as much as yours, of course. But since I wasn't planning to . . . to . . . I didn't have any with me. So, I'm hoping you did and that . . . well, you were responsible and used it. Because in this day and age there are serious consequences from having unprotected sex."

She'd accused him of taking advantage of her when she'd been drunk. Pretended he didn't exist and now it sounded like she was getting ready to accuse him of giving her something really unpleasant.

"I have an appointment with my doctor at the end of the week, and if we didn't use a condom, I think you would be wise to do the same. I thought I was in a committed relationship, but. . . You know what they say, it's not only the person you're sleeping with, but everyone they've ever slept with too." She gave a nervous little laugh and blinked her eyes a few times as if she were fighting back tears. "So . . ."

Sebastian looked at her standing there, with the shadows playing in her dark hair and touching one corner of a mouth.

He remembered the little girl with huge glasses who'd followed him around as a kid, and just as he had all those years ago, he began to feel a little sorry for her.

Damn it.