“Why not?” she eyed him suspiciously.
“Because if Jasmine had made me feel the way you did, I wouldn’t have done anything with you that day.” He cocked a brow. “I’m usually monogamous.”
“That surprises me.”
“More than the fact I had a mistress?”
“Only recently past tense, however,” she teased, surprising him. He’d expected her to make his life a little miserable. She wasn’t though. Just seemed to find this situation amusing.
She tapped her chin with her finger. “So, what? She’s jealous of me then?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t expect to see her here tonight.”
“Otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation, I suppose?”
He grimaced. “Astute.”
“Hardly. You’re a man after all. You are very predictable sometimes.”
“Thanks. You’re full of compliments today, aren’t you?”
“I don’t have to be charming. That’s something the man has to handle. I just have to smile prettily at you, make sure I don’t get something stuck in my teeth, and look good on your arm.” Her lips twitched. “That’s what a mistress does, isn’t it?”
“Mostly,” he said tightly, then blowing out a breath, murmured, “I don’t… this isn’t about your becoming my mistress though.”
“Oh, I know,” she told him, her voice in utter contrast to his—so chirpy and cheerful he wanted to scowl. “I’d walk out of here right now if I thought you were even hinting that things would take that direction.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “How did I not know you were this playful?”
She gaped at him. “Huh?”
“You’re a joker. You like teasing. I didn’t realize that.”
“Because I’m not like that.”
“I think you’ll find you are,” he said drily, finishing off his flute of champagne with a flourish and quickly grabbing another from a passing waiter. “Trust me, I’m feeling mocked.”
She sniggered. “Well, you must bring it out in me.”
“I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing,” he admitted wryly, staring down at his flute. A sense of humor had never been all that requisite with his past dates. They’d literally fulfilled the roles she’d mocked him over mere moments before.
Why he was so robotic with the opposite sex, he really couldn’t say. But then, there was a lot he didn’t have the answer to, and he’d never been into self-psychoanalysis.
Undoubtedly, it was a mommy issue he had. They always blamed the mother, didn’t they? And if the father was absent, as his had been for a long time, then that was thrown into the mix too.
Clearing his throat, he murmured, “I’m surprised she managed to get an invitation so late.”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes, it does.”
“Why?” Samantha cocked a brow at him, flooding the space between them with curiosity. And, truth was, he didn’t want any space between them.
Not even their clothes.
His jaw tightened at the idea of having that sultry form wriggling all over him as he mumbled, “If she’s here to make mischief, then I’d prefer to know about it sooner rather than later.”
Samantha nodded, took a sip of her champagne. “That makes sense,” she confessed. “Why would she want to make mischief?”