Tags:
Drama,
Fiction,
Romance,
Contemporary,
Saga,
Adult,
Family Life,
steamy,
Reporter,
truth,
Emotional,
fling,
Paternity,
pregnant,
Enemy,
Weekend,
diamond,
Heir,
tycoons,
Temporary,
Exposé,
Pursued
who can dodge questions here, do you?”
She did laugh then. She couldn’t help it. He really was the most charming and interesting man she had met in a very long time. Maybe ever.
She reached for the champagne flute he’d put in front of her and took a long sip. As she did, Nic took advantage of her preoccupation and grabbed her smartphone off the counter.
“What are you doing?” she demanded as he started pressing keys.
“Programming my number into it, so you can call me whenever you want.”
“What makes you think I’m going to want to call you when tonight is over?”
He gave her what she guessed was his most unassuming look. “What makes you think you aren’t?”
“Are we seriously going to spend the rest of the night asking each other questions and never getting any answers?”
“I don’t know. Are we?”
She rolled her eyes in exasperation. But before she could say anything else, his phone started buzzing from where it sat next to the stove. He made no move to answer it.
“Aren’t you going to get that?” she asked, partly because the reporter in her wanted to know who was calling him at two-thirty in the morning and partly because he was standing just a little too close to her. They weren’t touching, but she could feel the heat emanating from his body, and it was making it impossible for her to think—and even more impossible for her to maintain the distance she was trying so desperately to cling to.
“It’s just me, calling from your phone. So now I’ve got your number, too.” He looked her in the eye when he said it and there was something in that look, something in his voice, that made her think he meant a lot more than the ten digits that made her phone ring.
Suddenly she was taking far too much effort not to squirm.
She didn’t like the feeling any more than she liked the vulnerability that came with the knowledge that he could see more of her than she wanted him to. And so she did what she always did in situations like these—she went on the offensive. “What if I hadn’t planned on giving you my number?”
He raised a brow. “You don’t want me to have it?”
“That’s not the point!”
“It’s exactly the point.”
“No, it—” She cut herself off. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”
“I have been told that a time or two.” He paused, then said, “So I’ve got a proposition for you.”
“Uh, no, thanks.” She moved to stand up, but he pressed her back into the seat.
“You haven’t even heard what I was going to say.”
“Yeah, well, when a guy says those words to a girl he hardly knows, it usually ends with her chained in a basement somewhere while he maps out patterns to make a dress from her skin.”
“Wow!” He cracked up. “Suspicious much?”
“I’ve seen
Silence of the Lambs
. I know how these things work.”
“It appears that you do. But, sadly, I have no basement. And no handcuffs. And no deep-seated psychopathology, at least not that I know of. Also, I don’t have a clue how to sew. So, you’re probably safe.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” She eyed him with mock suspicion. “So what exactly is this proposition of yours?”
“That I keep your phone number, even though you aren’t exactly overjoyed that I’ve got it. And I promise that I won’t call you until you call me first. Fair?”
“What if I never call you?”
“Then I’ll be very sad, but I promise I won’t bother you with harassing phone calls. Deal?”
She thought about it for a moment, thought about whether or not she would ever want to talk to him again once this night was over. And decided, what the hell. She might as well leave the option open. If she didn’t want to use it, well, then, he was giving her the perfect opportunity to walk away, no harm, no foul.
“Deal,” she told him.
“Excellent.” He smiled, then reached a hand up to rub the back of his neck. Involuntarily, her eyes were drawn to his very enticing six-pack and