Into the Fire - Leslie Kelly [27]
"Lacey, if you can work things out, why don't you stop by my office when you're finished here and we can, uh, talk."
She heard the tiny hesitation in his voice and knew it was intentional. Talk? Sure, they'd talk. And this time, that was all they would do.
* * *
There was not question in Nate's mind that Lacey would come to his office when she'd finished meeting with her father. If she was the type of woman she appeared to be, he imagined she'd be barreling in here any minute, ready to lay down the law, to take charge, to set the boundaries for their assignment.
It was lucky for him he knew she wasn't the woman she appeared to be. The Lacey Clark of the printed page—the Lacey Clark who'd been all buttoned up, argumentative and stiff-backed in her father's office—could never replace the Lacey Clark who'd leaped after him into the pool. Who'd climbed up onto the trampoline. Who'd worn those thong panties.
"Right on cue," he muttered when his office door was forcefully pushed open. An unsmiling Lacey Clark walked purposefully into the room and sat down in the empty chair across from his desk. He thought it prudent not to mention that he'd just been thinking of her, and her underclothes.
"You're really going to go through with this?" she asked, getting right to the point.
"Yep. And you? Did you work everything out with J.T.?"
She gave a curt nod. "I've agreed. We have just under four weeks to research and write our stories. Yours will appear in the October issue of For Her Eyes Only, mine in the October issue of Men's World. Here's what I think we should do first."
He held a hand up, palm out, stopping her. "I think what we should do first is talk about Friday night."
"No. What we should do first is forget Friday night ever happened and get to work."
"How can I forget that you saved my life?" Nate asked with a tender grin. "And you bandaged me up?"
She cast a quick glance toward his temple, and Nate turned his head to show her the small, healing wound.
"You've recovered. Forget it."
Lordy , she was stubborn. He liked that in a woman.
"Am I supposed to forget everything else about Friday night, too?"
She just stared.
"If I forget, then I can't very well apologize, can I?"
Her stiff shoulders loosened slightly under her silky white blouse. "You … you want to apologize?"
He nodded, doing his best to look sincere. "I am so sorry, Lacey, so terribly sorry I forgot to lock the door of the gym."
It took a few seconds for his meaning to sink in. Then her eyes widened in shock. He waited for it. Which would it be? The shriek of outrage? Or the wicked grin he knew damn well was lurking behind her beautiful pink lips?
Before he could tell, she covered her mouth with her hand. Standing, she turned her back and walked toward his heavily laden bookshelf. Finally, she squared her shoulders, turned to face him and said, "You've got a big mouth, Logan . It's going to be a real pleasure showing you up in the October issue."
"Keep dreaming," Nate retorted with a grin. "By October, when those magazines hit the stands, you'll be admitting your white-knight romance superhero is either fictional or gay."
She threw her hands into the air and muttered something toward the ceiling.
"Have a habit of talking to yourself?"
She caught his eye and leveled a haughty stare in his direction. "I was praying for restraint."
"Please don't restrain yourself on my account. I think I like the unrestrained Lacey I met Friday night."
"Friday night I didn't know the person I rescued was a sexist jerk."
"You always believe everything you read? Don't you ever trust your own instincts?" Nate asked, bothered that she refused to look beyond his magazine work to the real man. Some people saw only what they wanted to see. He hated to think Lacey Clark was one of them, since the moment they'd met Friday night, he'd found her captivating. She seemed so different in person than she was in print, much like himself.
Maybe this assignment wasn't such a bad thing. It would