He distributed the drinks, handed Ruby her box of chocolate candies, and also offered her the popcorn. “No, thank you, darling. It gives me gas.”

Rana stifled a giggle, but almost choked on it when she felt the firm pressure of Trent ’s knee against hers. He spread wide his muscular thighs and wedged the bucket of popcorn between them.

Leaning close to her and touching her ear with his lips, he whispered, “Feel free to dig in any time.”

She sniffed her disdain and kept her eyes resolutely on the movie screen. It was bad enough having his knee rubbing her leg and his elbow crowding hers on the armrest. There was no way she would grope between his thighs for popcorn!

She made no attempt to hide her aggravation, but he was impervious to it. In fact, each time she tried to move her knee away, his followed. He had her arm virtually pinned between his and the back of the armrest. To have wrested it free would have caused a commotion, so she left it there. She didn’t want him to know she was even aware of the steely strength of his arm, or of its warmth, which spread through hers, into her breasts.

“Don’t those tinted lenses make Clint look sickly?” he asked in a raspy whisper that sent chills down her arms.

“No.”

“Why don’t you take them off?”

“I can’t see without them.”

“Sure of that? They don’t look that thick.”

“I’m sure.” Actually, they were just tinted glass, but even without makeup her eyes were striking enough to attract attention.

“You’re not eating any popcorn.”

“I don’t care for any, thank you.”

He inclined toward her. “I even brought napkins… on the outside chance that you don’t want me to lick your fingers.”

“Shut up!”

“Shhh!” “Shhh!” “Shhh!” The hissing came from several directions at once. Ruby leaned forward in her seat and gave them both a stern look. She mouthed, “Behave,” before sitting back in her seat and returning her concentration to the movie.

“Now see what you did. You got us in trouble,” Trent murmured after several moments had elapsed and everyone around them had settled back down.

“Me? You’re the one who insisted I come to this damn movie,” she whispered back fiercely. “Which reminds me, I’m mad as hell at you for manipulating me in front of Ruby. But you did and I’m here. You got what you wanted. Now the very least you can do is be quiet and let me watch the show.”

“You want to watch the show?”

“That’s the idea, isn’t it?”

“Movie theaters aren’t only for that, you know.”

“What else are they for?”

“Illicit meetings. For doing naughty things in the dark. We could go to the back row of the balcony and neck.”

That suggestion brought her head around. She stared up at him speechlessly. One side of his face was dark and inscrutable; the other reflected the light off the movie screen. His eyes were steady and compelling. He was smiling a half smile, an insinuating and sensual half smile. One of his dark brows was raised, indicating that his statement might have been an invitation that ended with, “Whaddaya say?”

He was handsome. Dangerously handsome. And he knew it.

Rana knew then that she didn’t like him very much. In fact, she disliked him intensely.

She yanked her arm from beneath his on the armrest and turned her head back toward the screen. Readjusting herself in her seat, she made it impossible for his knee to reach hers.

Apparently he received her message loud and clear. He fell to watching the movie and munching popcorn in sullen silence. When the show was over, he politely escorted the ladies through the throng emptying from the theater, across the parking lot, and into the car. Ruby recapped the movie’s plot, rehashed each action-packed fight, recounted every steamy detail of the love scene, and commented innumerable times on the star’s appeal.

Rana remained silent in the backseat, counting the minutes until the evening would come to an end. As soon as they got through the front door of the house she said, “Thank you for the movie, Mr. Gamblin. Good night, Ruby.”

“But I thought we all might enjoy a cup of tea together,” Ruby said with a pout of disappointment. She wasn’t finished dissecting the movie yet.

“Not tonight. I’m very tired. See you tomorrow.” Coming on the heels of an already upsetting day, the excursion to the movie theater had left Rana physically tired and emotionally drained. And mad, she added as she closed the door of her apartment behind her. How dare he think he could get away with-

The knock on her door halted her bitter ruminations.

Just as she’d suspected, it was Trent. And as usual, he was insolently propped against the doorjamb.

“Was it something I said?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “No, it’s what you are, Mr. Gamblin.”

“Pray tell, what is that?”

“A conceited, spoiled, egomaniacal lecher. A self-centered, sexist, chauvinistic boor.”

He whistled.

“I know your type, and I despise it. You think every female was designed solely to be your plaything, to be used and disposed of at your whim.” She had his attention. He straightened up; the smug smile was no longer tilting up one corner of his mouth.

“Now, wait just a minute.”

“No, you wait a minute. I’m not finished. You’re the type who looks at a woman and automatically rates her appearance on a scale of one to ten. Don’t deny it. I know it’s true. You don’t see a woman. You only see how she’s packaged. And that’s all that counts with you. You take none of her personality or intelligence into account, much less her feelings.”

“Look at me and look at you,” she said, sawing her hand back and forth between them. “Knowing the kind of man you are, do you for one moment think that I think that you’re interested in a romantic interlude with me? Well, I don’t. I’m not that stupid. Nor am I naive enough to think that if you saw me on the street you’d be bowled over. You’re coming on to me because I’m the only woman available.

“And even if you were interested, for whatever kinky reasons of your own, I’m not, and I take offense at your presumption that I would be. I’m sick of your juvenile innuendos and asinine suggestions. I find them in the poorest of taste. I wasn’t put here on earth for your amusement, and I resent your thinking I was. If you think I can be washed overboard by your charm, by your good looks, or by your trite come-on lines, think again.”

She planted her hands on her hips and glared up at him. “Where do you get off, making a toy out of a human being? You think of me only as a game to keep you occupied while you’re here. Well, forget it. If it weren’t for the fact that I like Ruby and don’t want to hurt her feelings, I wouldn’t even speak to you for the remainder of your stay. In summation, Mr. Gamblin, I think you’re a class-A jerk.”

She slammed the door in his face before he had time to utter a single word. She felt better than she had in months. Lord, it felt good to tell him off! At last she had vented a frustration with male attitudes that had been building for years. Rana had found that men fell into three categories. There were those who were so intimidated by her beauty and success that they considered her unapproachable. Even if she sent signals that she might be interested, they didn’t respond, because they simply couldn’t or wouldn’t compete with her.

Then there were those who dared to ask her out, but treated her like a fragile piece of porcelain, an objet d’art that might break if they didn’t handle her with kid gloves. How could she ever develop a relationship with a man who considered her too perfect to touch?

Men who fell into the third category were the most prevalent and the most irritating. These were the ones who used her to decorate themselves. Since Rana was often photographed by paparazzi avid for candid shots of heron the streets of New York, leaving a restaurant, entering a party, in the park eating an ice-cream cone-her escort also got the rewards of the free publicity she generated.