Read Online Interview with a Playboy by Kathryn Ross - Free Book Online

she was working, but as she saw the humour glittering in the darkness of his gaze she realised he expected her to say that. So she changed her mind.
    ‘How about the truth?’ she said quietly instead. ‘Let’s drink to that.’
    The suggestion jarred a little with Marco. ‘Since when has a journalist ever been interested in the truth?’
    ‘Since right now.’ Her eyes held with his, and something about his derisive remark made her lean forward earnestly. ‘Not all journalists are the same. We are not all out to sensationalise a story, or get the story at any cost.’
    ‘Nice try, Izzy.’ He laughed, but this time there was little humour in the sound. ‘But that’s not my experience.’
    ‘Well…you obviously just haven’t met the right journalists.’
    ‘Is that a fact?’ Marco’s eyes drifted over her lazily. He couldn’t quite work out if she was just the most practised liar in the world, or if that really was sincerity in her voice.
    Not that he particularly cared—because, no matter howmuch sincerity shone from her, she would not be getting the inside track on his marriage breakdown. There were some things that he would never discuss with anyone, never mind a journalist.
    ‘Well…we’ll see.’ He shrugged. ‘So, why don’t you set the conversation rolling and tell me a little about yourself?’
    ‘I think you’ve just stolen my line.’ She cast him a fulminating glare from wide eyes, and he laughed.
    ‘Izzy, if I’m going to tell you about myself, the least you can do is give me a brief summary of your life.’ He reached and took a sip of his wine. ‘That’s the thing I hate about the paparazzi—total strangers shouting questions. What gives them the right…hmm?’
    The softly asked question made her look over at him. She supposed he had a point. But even so she was loath to open up to him even on a superficial level. ‘I’m really not that interesting,’ she murmured.
    ‘I don’t believe that for a moment.’
    Oh, he was far too smooth, she thought nervously.
    Marco noted the shadows in the depths of her eyes. He still couldn’t fathom why he found her so fascinating, but he did. Perhaps it was nothing more than idle curiosity…because she certainly wasn’t his type. Maybe she just stirred the hunter instinct in him, or maybe it was that air of fragility that gave her a certain mystery.
    Whatever it was, he found himself remembering that moment when he had unfastened the top button on her blouse. The intensity of the sensual heat that had flared between them had been quite a surprise.
    And as his gaze flicked down over her again he found himself thinking that he would like to unbutton her a little more and then take her to bed—just for the hell of it.

CHAPTER FIVE
    D ARKNESS had fallen quickly, and there was a full moon shimmering in the inky blackness of the sky, its light reflecting over the stillness of the sea like a wide silver pathway to heaven. There was something very surreal and tranquil about the scene, but there was nothing tranquil about the way Isobel was feeling.
    Every time she met Marco’s dark gaze across the table she could hear her heart thundering, as if she were running fast across difficult terrain pursued by the devil himself.
    Why was that? she wondered distractedly. Was it just the fact that he was undeniably handsome?
    The white shirt unbuttoned at the neck seemed to emphasise the smooth olive tones of his skin. His thick dark hair was immaculately groomed. Even the hint of stubble on his square jaw made him look more…enticing…if that was the word she was looking for. She frowned…. Maybe not! She certainly couldn’t use that adjective when she wrote about him!
    ‘So, you were about to tell me about yourself?’ He smiled, as if her hesitation totally amused him.
    ‘Marco, I really don’t see the point—’
    ‘Well, you will just have to humour me, won’t you?’ He cut across her easily. ‘Tell me about your parents and your