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days that she didn’t have to spare, waiting for his promised arrival, only to learn he’d gone back to L.A. She’d trailed after him, only to discover that he was already heading back home.
    Instead of being angry at thinking of all that, Lindsay suddenly started chuckling. She couldn’t help it. Glancing sideways at him, she noticed that his lips were twitching as well.
    â€œInteresting how fate has accomplished what Morrie and Trent Langston were unable to do,” she noted dryly. “They both tend to believe they’re omnipotent.”
    â€œI was just thinking the same thing.” Heshook his head ruefully. “If I’d only known.”
    â€œWhat would you have done? Skipped the coffee?”
    â€œI think, Ms. Tabor,” he said, his tone suddenly quite serious, “I might very well have bought you the best dinner you’ve ever had in an airport.”
    His seemingly innocuous words hung in the air between them and Lindsay’s heart skipped one beat and then another as she tried to interpret if there were any hidden meanings behind his remark, whether they were entirely personal or whether there was anything to suggest that he might listen to reason about making a deal with Trent Studios after all. Ironically, at this precise moment, she wasn’t at all sure which interpretation she preferred. She decided to stick to business for the moment. It made her less nervous.
    â€œWould you have signed the contract?”
    He shook his head slowly. “No,” he said flatly, killing her rising hopes. “I’m not interested in the deal. I’ve told Morrie that. I’ve told your boss that. Now I’m telling you that.”
    â€œI thought you were just bargaining for creative control over the movie.”
    â€œWould you give it to me?”
    â€œNo. It’s the one thing Trent will never give up.”
    â€œDon’t look so defeated. It doesn’t matter. That wouldn’t have done it anyway. In fact, there’s not a thing in the world that will change my mind.”
    â€œThen what did you mean...”
    â€œWhen I said I wouldn’t have given you such a run for your money?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI meant, Ms. Tabor,” he told her in a low, husky tone that sent an anticipatory quiver shooting through her spine, “that I’d have met with you a whole lot sooner, if I’d had any idea what a lovely, intriguing woman you were.” His eyes met hers and held. “But I’d have done it for one reason and one reason only.”
    Lindsay couldn’t tear her eyes away from his. “What’s that?” she asked in a little choked whisper.
    â€œTo get to know you better.”

CHAPTER THREE
    O nce Lindsay’s heartbeat slowed to its normal rate, she groaned in frustration. She felt like screeching in a decidedly unladylike way or punching her fist into the thick padding on her seat...or, better yet, slapping David Mark Channing Morrow’s smilingly complacent, handsome face, which was once again displaying his dimples to full, charming advantage. He obviously had big hopes for the two of them. For that matter, so did she. Or anyway, she had.
    Three hours ago, back in the newsstand, or even fifteen minutes ago, she might have given anything to hear those sexy, complimentary, seductive words tripping off this man’s tongue. Now she’d have been a whole lot happier if he’d said something thoroughly boring and businesslike, such as, “Where do I sign?”
    Then he could have told her how beautiful she was and how much he wanted to get to know her and it would have sounded like sheer heaven. Instead, Trent Langston’s edict that she come back with David Morrow’s signature on a movie deal put something of a damper on her purely feminine response to the sultry look in his eyes and the suggestive tone in his voice.
    Which, come to think of it, might be just as well.
    Still, she