"Royce-"

He cut me off with a stiff shake of his head. "Don't say no. Just say you'll think about it."

Think about it? I'd be able to think of nothing else for the rest of my life. Any decision I made would be the wrong one, and I suspected I'd always wonder what would have happened if I'd gone the other way.

"I want you in my life, Naomi, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to convince you of that fact."

His sweetness, his willingness to fight for me, beat at my resolve harder than anything else had. But- No! my mind screamed in the next instant. He's dangerous. You'll get hurt. He's a man. He'll cheat. I had to combat him, had to continue to resist, and there was only one way to do that. I couldn't think of him as Royce Powell, sexy man of my dreams. I had to think of him as simply a man, a cheating, lying bastard of a man.

"I-never-want-to-get-married," I shouted. "Never ever, ever." For emphasis, I stomped my foot. "Never!"

Unperturbed, he shook his head. "You don't mean that."

"Like hell I don't. I wouldn't get married if aliens invaded our planet and the only way to escape a deep body probing was to marry the leader. Do I make myself clear?"

"You're exaggerating, trying to push me away for whatever reason. I can still see the fear in your eyes."

"What will it take to make you realize the only way to get me down an altar is to carry my cold, dead body in a casket?"

He regarded me silently for a moment. "You're telling me you have no interest in love? No interest in a white gown, a diamond ring and a church filled with family and friends oohing and aahing?"

I nodded with determination. I didn't even have a slight pang of doubt. "That's right." Been there, almost killed myself because of that.

"You won't mind if I laugh in your face, will you? I know women, and I know they dream about a splashy wedding, about having an adoring husband and bearing his children." He held out his arms, a wide open invitation for me to peruse him at my leisure. "Well, here I am, willing to give you those things. And you still want to tell me no?"

"That's right," I said again, unwavering.

"Unbelievable." He shook his head in exasperation.

"This has all been very interesting," I said, smoothing down my skirt. "You've given me the men are from Mars example I've always wanted, so now I'll give you a women are from Venus example. I promise you on all that is holy that I'm. not holding out for a ring. In fact, I don't even want to be a bridesmaid."

He shook his head. "I don't believe you."

How could I explain it in terms he'd understand? "I do not want a man. Period. No men. Men make me sick. Men bad. Gag, gag, gag."

He regarded me, his eyes growing wide. "Wait. You don't like men?"

Finally. Contact. "No."

"Well, why the hell didn't you tell me that sooner?"

"We work together, for one thing. Personal business isn't something co-workers need to discuss."

"I didn't realize." Shaking his head again, he fell into the chair behind him. "I'm sorry."

"Yes, well, now you know the truth."

"Have you always felt this way?"

"No," I answered, again opting for the truth. "Just the past six months."

"There were no signs. I mean-" he plowed a hand through his hair and glared at me in accusation. "You kissed me. Twice. I thought you liked it. You seemed to like it. It's the blondes, isn't it? The twins in the pictures on your coffee table. I should have guessed. But how could I have known?"

Had we just entered the twilight zone? "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You prefer women to men," he said. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, I just didn't realize. You seemed to like- Oh, shit."

Argh. This was too much. Both of my hands, which were now fisted, went to my waist. He thought I was seeing two women, twins at that. What was it with men and twins? "I'm not gay, Royce. If a woman isn't interested, it doesn't mean she's gay."

A long, protracted silence filled the space between us.

His features gradually relaxed. "So you're not… "

"No."

"Damn it," he said, suddenly losing all traces of relaxation. "You said you wanted nothing to do with men, that men made you sick. Earlier you mentioned hating everything with a penis. What else was I supposed to think?"

"Maybe that I'm not interested in a relationship, like I've been trying to tell you. Or maybe that I want to live alone, without a man's interference. Or maybe I simply want nothing to do with romance. Especially with a Triple C."

A glaze of puzzlement washed over him, halting the tirade I knew was coming. "What the hell is a Triple C?"

"Corporate. Controlling. And completely wrong for me." Okay, so it had been and a total Commando, but this was my phrase and I could change it if I wanted.

His brows arched, almost hitting his hairline. "I'll admit to being corporate. But controlling? Wrong for you? I don't think so. I happen to be a WHP."

I crossed my arms over my chest and rolled my eyes ceilingward. "Explain please."

"Willing. Horny. And Perfect for you."

Not to mention egotistical. "Is that so?"

He crossed his own arms over his chest, mimicking my battle stance. "Yeah, that's so."

"This isn't a game, Royce. I'm truly not out to catch a man. Any man. Even a WHP. That's all there is to it."

His lips lifted in a slow, knowing grin, his eyes sparkling like sapphires. "Now, I happen to know that's a lie." He studied me in an openly assessing way, like he possessed X-ray vision and could see to my very soul.

I shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "You keep saying you know when I'm lying," I said, hating how my voice trembled. I knew I was lying, that I wanted him in a very bad way, but there was no way he could know it. Right?

"Your list. I might have forgotten about it for a moment, but now that I've remembered-"

"What list?"

"Do the words what to look for in Mr. Wrong ring a bell? If you're trying to avoid Mr. Wrong, you're trying to find Mr. Right."

Sparks of anger lit inside me, but those sparks died a quick death as amusement grew. I laughed. I just couldn't help myself. The situation was too funny. Too sweet. My gaze zeroed in on his clean-shaven jaw, and I laughed even harder.

"You shaved," I said. The knowledge sent me doubling over as another wave of laughter swept through me. "I get it now. Number four. Mr. Wrong never shaves his beard."

Royce stiffened and his gaze slitted. "What's so funny about that?"

"Nothing, if it were my list."

"Of course it's yours. It was in your home."

"No. Sorry." More laughter. "It belongs to my cousins, Kera and Mel. The blond twins in the photo."

The clock ticked. Four minutes of complete silence passed. Okay, so I was still laughing and the sound of it echoed off the walls. The man had made a sweet, sweet fool of himself. I was entitled to a little amusement.

Royce ran a hand down his face. He pushed out a deep breath and peeked at me over his fingers. "Are you sure that isn't your list?"

"Swear to God."

"But I fit none of the requirements for Mr. Wrong."

"Not my list," I said again, still grinning.

"I can't believe this is happening," he muttered. "Are you absolutely one-hundred-percent positive it isn't yours?"

"Yeah," I answered again.

"But you love lists."

"That's why I was the designated writer. For the twins."

"Wonderful. Just fucking wonderful. I stood a chance of winning the list's owner. Now, well- Shit."

In a flash, I froze, losing my burst of humor. What if… No.

I didn't want to contemplate such an event. My mind wouldn't let the thought die, however.

I gulped back the sudden lump in my throat. "Since you're so fascinated with that list," I said, judging my words carefully. I gazed down at my shoes, using one to scrape the toe of the other. "You might be interested in knowing that Kera, one of the twins, sent you an application. She's smart and beautiful and she's looking for love." Rigid with an emotion I didn't want to name, I waited for his reply.