Heated Rush - Leslie Kelly [39]
“Good point. Uh…pediatrician?”
She smirked. “I saw the way you looked at the kids.”
“I like children,” he protested, sounding indignant…but not terribly honest.
“En brochette?”
His deep, throaty laugh sent a tingle of sensation racing through her. She liked the man’s laugh. And his smile. And the way those eyes lit up when he was amused.
“Busted. Is that the word? I suppose I did see the little monsters and immediately wonder if I needed to don protective gear to come in and rescue you.”
She frowned. “They’re adorable.”
“They’re sticky.”
“They’re loving,” she insisted.
“They’re loud.”
“They’re loyal.”
“They’re short.”
“Oh, all right,” she said, grinning too much to keep up the ridiculous game of one-upsmanship. “They’re all of the above. But I love them just the same.”
“I saw that,” he murmured, eyeing her intently, his expression almost—tender—if that made any sense. Especially given his obvious disinterest in children. Then that strong chin went up and he said, “Of course, that’s everyone else’s children. I don’t imagine my own—if I ever get around to having any, which I sincerely doubt—would be sticky, loud or short.”
At that, Annie leaned back in her chair and chortled. “You’re a pompous one, aren’t you?”
Shock unhinged his jaw. “I’m no such thing.”
“A little pompous,” she clarified. “And spoiled.”
“Maybe once,” he admitted. “Not anymore.”
Their stares locked across her desk, and she sensed the intensity in the man. He hadn’t wanted to talk about his past, beyond mentioning that he’d been raised in Ireland. There was a story there—most definitely. But he’d put up walls around himself, using his easy charm and amazing good looks to keep anyone from surmounting them.
What, she wondered, would await a woman who managed to get to the other side?
“We still haven’t settled on my occupation,” he said, clearing his throat and breaking their intense visual connection. As if he knew she’d been trying to figure him out. “Hmm…stunt man? Body double for Brad Pitt?”
She snorted. “He wishes people believed he had a body like yours.”
Then she got serious, knowing they really had to nail this down, if only so she could hammer the details into her own head tonight. The last thing she needed was to get caught in a lie by her family, who’d be all over any prevarication like Dylan McFee had been all over Jessie Sims to get that toy.
“Let’s keep it simple. You’re a businessman.” That, according to his correct bio, was true. She hated to draw him much further into her lies, though the mischief in his expression said he was having fun with the whole charade. “The closer we stick to the truth, the better. And that is the truth, right?”
He shifted in the uncomfortable chair. “More or less. I’m a consultant. But businessman will do.” Moving on, he asked, “Where did we meet?”
Annie’s hands clenched into fists beneath the desk, and she willed her jaw not to clench in instinctive anger. So much for sticking close to the truth. She didn’t even want to pretend to have met this man the way she’d met the real Blake—here, at work, where she so should have known better.
“Dating service?”
He rolled his eyes. “Pathetic. How about a blind date?”
“And that’s not pathetic?”
He frowned, thinking it over. “Party?”
“Fine.”
She felt like they were negotiating a contract, rather than establishing a relationship. And suddenly saw that he probably would be a very good businessman.
He confirmed it by running down a list of questions she never even would have thought to ask. Her favorite color, flower, movie and musician. Her political leanings, ambitions, where she went to school. How she took her coffee, her favorite ice cream. Ticklish spots.
She told him one. But she left the other out altogether. He’d come close to discovering it on her couch yesterday evening. Close…but not quite. And if he ever discovered that one, they’d be a whole lot more involved than two people planning to pull a little scam on her family this weekend should be.
All the details he wanted to know were minor, but certainly