closer to him. “If you’ll just take a look at my notes, you’ll see how I’ve done exactly as promised.” Her tongue peeked out to touch her lips before continuing. “And…um…will ensure those who aren’t in love with you already will be by the end of the hour.”
She took a deep breath that didn’t seem to settle her down at all, then jumped right back into her spiel, her words coming out so fast they practically tripped over each other. “I’d like to capture you in your everyday activities. At the office, playing golf or whatever you do in your downtime, possibly a business meeting, charity work…”
He didn’t want to talk about an interview that wasn’t going to happen.
“Don’t worry, Vega.” He spoke softly, and her relieved gaze rose to meet his as if understanding that he meant not to worry about how she’d come across a moment earlier. He wouldn’t hold it against her.
But as quickly as his words had soothed her, her obvious relief shot ire into his gut. What was so wrong with the thought of them coming together and having a good time, anyway? It wasn’t as if there was anything wrong with him.
He narrowed his eyes on her, deciding he preferred her as off-kilter as he felt. “I know you didn’t mean to sound like you wanted to go straight to the nearest bed. We can have dessert first.”
Fire shot through her brown eyes at his words, and though he knew he was being an arrogant jerk, he couldn’t stop himself. “But we probably shouldn’t use one of Cat’s bedrooms. That would be uncouth.”
A gasp filled the air as Vega’s mouth dropped open, and he instantly chastised himself. He was better than that.
“I apologize,” he muttered, looking away to stare at the artwork on the other side of the table. “That was uncalled for.”
His attraction to this woman was screwing with his head, making him act like a spoiled rich kid instead of the successful, upstanding adult he’d worked so hard to become. “Please…” He motioned in her general direction, uncertain what to say other than, “Continue.”
After ten seconds of silence, her words once again started up, rattling on about the damn interview as if he hadn’t just insulted her in the worst possible way. He kept his gaze trained on the painting, careful not to clench his jaw, but from where he was sitting, an in-depth interview now would be the worst possible thing for his fucking “budding” political career.
There was the knowledge of Lexi and her kid to worry about. Plus, though he’d been around politics his whole life, he knew precious little about the day-to-day business of it—and cared even less. Not to mention that he just liked having a small piece of his life private. His own.
Damn, he was so tired of this. Tired of knowing he had to give up his life to live that of a “true” Davenport. Tired of worrying about the fact that if he didn’t play his cards right, the family name, which had been built on morals and “doing the right thing,” was about to go down in flames. And just damn tired of being a Davenport.
He simply wanted to be himself for once.
Do what he wanted, see who he wanted, and freaking have someone interested in him just because they liked him and not because of who he was or what he could do for them.
But that wasn’t the life he’d been born into. And he’d known it from an early age.
As Vega continued talking, doing her best to avoid looking at him, he returned his gaze and studied her. He compared her look tonight to yesterday. Something didn’t add up. Today her clothes weren’t baggy in the least. In that way, she was showing off her beauty, but the thing he found the oddest was that she still wore no makeup.
Not that she needed it. Her long lashes and gloriously smooth skin were things of beauty as they were. But most women would play up all their features.
And then there was her hair. He couldn’t figure that one out either. When he’d mentioned it earlier, she
She took a deep breath that didn’t seem to settle her down at all, then jumped right back into her spiel, her words coming out so fast they practically tripped over each other. “I’d like to capture you in your everyday activities. At the office, playing golf or whatever you do in your downtime, possibly a business meeting, charity work…”
He didn’t want to talk about an interview that wasn’t going to happen.
“Don’t worry, Vega.” He spoke softly, and her relieved gaze rose to meet his as if understanding that he meant not to worry about how she’d come across a moment earlier. He wouldn’t hold it against her.
But as quickly as his words had soothed her, her obvious relief shot ire into his gut. What was so wrong with the thought of them coming together and having a good time, anyway? It wasn’t as if there was anything wrong with him.
He narrowed his eyes on her, deciding he preferred her as off-kilter as he felt. “I know you didn’t mean to sound like you wanted to go straight to the nearest bed. We can have dessert first.”
Fire shot through her brown eyes at his words, and though he knew he was being an arrogant jerk, he couldn’t stop himself. “But we probably shouldn’t use one of Cat’s bedrooms. That would be uncouth.”
A gasp filled the air as Vega’s mouth dropped open, and he instantly chastised himself. He was better than that.
“I apologize,” he muttered, looking away to stare at the artwork on the other side of the table. “That was uncalled for.”
His attraction to this woman was screwing with his head, making him act like a spoiled rich kid instead of the successful, upstanding adult he’d worked so hard to become. “Please…” He motioned in her general direction, uncertain what to say other than, “Continue.”
After ten seconds of silence, her words once again started up, rattling on about the damn interview as if he hadn’t just insulted her in the worst possible way. He kept his gaze trained on the painting, careful not to clench his jaw, but from where he was sitting, an in-depth interview now would be the worst possible thing for his fucking “budding” political career.
There was the knowledge of Lexi and her kid to worry about. Plus, though he’d been around politics his whole life, he knew precious little about the day-to-day business of it—and cared even less. Not to mention that he just liked having a small piece of his life private. His own.
Damn, he was so tired of this. Tired of knowing he had to give up his life to live that of a “true” Davenport. Tired of worrying about the fact that if he didn’t play his cards right, the family name, which had been built on morals and “doing the right thing,” was about to go down in flames. And just damn tired of being a Davenport.
He simply wanted to be himself for once.
Do what he wanted, see who he wanted, and freaking have someone interested in him just because they liked him and not because of who he was or what he could do for them.
But that wasn’t the life he’d been born into. And he’d known it from an early age.
As Vega continued talking, doing her best to avoid looking at him, he returned his gaze and studied her. He compared her look tonight to yesterday. Something didn’t add up. Today her clothes weren’t baggy in the least. In that way, she was showing off her beauty, but the thing he found the oddest was that she still wore no makeup.
Not that she needed it. Her long lashes and gloriously smooth skin were things of beauty as they were. But most women would play up all their features.
And then there was her hair. He couldn’t figure that one out either. When he’d mentioned it earlier, she
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