had pointed out that she preferred it up, but he wasn’t so certain that was the truth. It felt more like she wore it up as some sort of shield. But from what? And what would he have to do to get her to take it down for him?
He shifted his gaze to her lips and got lost in the subtle movements they made as she spoke. Most women, if they had that mouth, would do everything possible to call even more attention to it, thereby having every man within a thirty-mile radius drooling at her side. Exactly as he was doing now.
With a groan, he shifted in his seat and readjusted himself. Her mouth drove him out of his mind. It was probably a good thing she didn’t paint it red and fuel his fantasies even more. If that were possible.
His fingers curled around the stem of his wineglass until he wised up and pushed the glass away. No need snapping it in two and looking even more an idiot than he’d already painted himself tonight.
It had started the moment she’d walked into the house. Initially embarrassed with her seeing him let his niece make his hair “pretty,” as Becca would say, embarrassment had taken a backseat when he’d seen the glow in her eyes. She’d been impressed, and he’d wanted to stand up and thump his chest.
Instead, he’d stood and gaped.
He mentally hung his head like a dog who’d been reprimanded. It was time to do the right thing and quit fantasizing over this intriguing woman he apparently couldn’t have. No matter how much he wanted her, he couldn’t let her sleep with him thinking that would win her the interview.
Working hard to focus, her words reentered the conscious part of his brain.
“…and then there’s your family. I know you all are close, so I’d like to get something with just you and your mother as well as all of you. Casual and laid-back.”
His mother was rarely casual and laid-back. Every conversation with her centered on politics, which she brought up with an intensity he hadn’t seen in her since his father’s first days running for president. Too bad the man had let cancer take him instead of hanging around to clean up his own mess.
“I also thought I could capture you with Cat and the kids. Maybe as you were when I came in tonight?”
“Leave Becca and Tyler out of it,” he snapped, unintentionally sharp, but the mention of his niece and nephew had him suddenly questioning if he should have been so free with the family stories he’d shared tonight. She was a journalist, after all. Though she was normally behind the camera, she clearly went after stories or they wouldn’t be there tonight.
Dammit. He’d run his mouth off all night as if he hadn’t even known that fact.
Her silence tugged at his conscience. He hadn’t meant to come across as such a brute, but backtracking now wasn’t something he was willing to do either. Instead he stared at her, daring her to do anything but acknowledge his directive.
After a pause, she glanced down at her hands, now folded demurely in her lap, then back up at him. She nodded. “Okay. I just thought…”
Her words trailed off as she looked toward the living room and gnawed on the outer corner of her bottom lip.
“Thought what?” He gentled his words, but the tone was still clear. Don’t mess with my family.
“Well,” she began, but stopped to clear her throat. She faced him once again, her eyes no longer holding the determination she’d worn since starting her little speech. The tip of her tongue poking slightly through her parted teeth got his body’s attention.
Lifting one eyebrow, he remained silent, waiting for her to explain.
“It’s just…when I came in, the picture you made with Becca and Tyler was exactly the type of thing people love to see. I thought maybe you’d…” She shrugged and dipped her eyes. As if finding her resolve in the depths of her uneaten steak, she straightened in her chair and boldly locked her gaze on his. “I thought maybe you’d staged that scene to subtly suggest a
He shifted his gaze to her lips and got lost in the subtle movements they made as she spoke. Most women, if they had that mouth, would do everything possible to call even more attention to it, thereby having every man within a thirty-mile radius drooling at her side. Exactly as he was doing now.
With a groan, he shifted in his seat and readjusted himself. Her mouth drove him out of his mind. It was probably a good thing she didn’t paint it red and fuel his fantasies even more. If that were possible.
His fingers curled around the stem of his wineglass until he wised up and pushed the glass away. No need snapping it in two and looking even more an idiot than he’d already painted himself tonight.
It had started the moment she’d walked into the house. Initially embarrassed with her seeing him let his niece make his hair “pretty,” as Becca would say, embarrassment had taken a backseat when he’d seen the glow in her eyes. She’d been impressed, and he’d wanted to stand up and thump his chest.
Instead, he’d stood and gaped.
He mentally hung his head like a dog who’d been reprimanded. It was time to do the right thing and quit fantasizing over this intriguing woman he apparently couldn’t have. No matter how much he wanted her, he couldn’t let her sleep with him thinking that would win her the interview.
Working hard to focus, her words reentered the conscious part of his brain.
“…and then there’s your family. I know you all are close, so I’d like to get something with just you and your mother as well as all of you. Casual and laid-back.”
His mother was rarely casual and laid-back. Every conversation with her centered on politics, which she brought up with an intensity he hadn’t seen in her since his father’s first days running for president. Too bad the man had let cancer take him instead of hanging around to clean up his own mess.
“I also thought I could capture you with Cat and the kids. Maybe as you were when I came in tonight?”
“Leave Becca and Tyler out of it,” he snapped, unintentionally sharp, but the mention of his niece and nephew had him suddenly questioning if he should have been so free with the family stories he’d shared tonight. She was a journalist, after all. Though she was normally behind the camera, she clearly went after stories or they wouldn’t be there tonight.
Dammit. He’d run his mouth off all night as if he hadn’t even known that fact.
Her silence tugged at his conscience. He hadn’t meant to come across as such a brute, but backtracking now wasn’t something he was willing to do either. Instead he stared at her, daring her to do anything but acknowledge his directive.
After a pause, she glanced down at her hands, now folded demurely in her lap, then back up at him. She nodded. “Okay. I just thought…”
Her words trailed off as she looked toward the living room and gnawed on the outer corner of her bottom lip.
“Thought what?” He gentled his words, but the tone was still clear. Don’t mess with my family.
“Well,” she began, but stopped to clear her throat. She faced him once again, her eyes no longer holding the determination she’d worn since starting her little speech. The tip of her tongue poking slightly through her parted teeth got his body’s attention.
Lifting one eyebrow, he remained silent, waiting for her to explain.
“It’s just…when I came in, the picture you made with Becca and Tyler was exactly the type of thing people love to see. I thought maybe you’d…” She shrugged and dipped her eyes. As if finding her resolve in the depths of her uneaten steak, she straightened in her chair and boldly locked her gaze on his. “I thought maybe you’d staged that scene to subtly suggest a
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