The contact was friendly and innocent enough but when their eyes met he felt a disturbing pull in his groin that had him shifting positions. She blinked and shifted, too, so that her leg was well out of reach. “Tell me how you went from Nebraska to the Gulf War.”
“I’d just graduated from college and the station where I’d interned the previous summer offered me a job.”
“And they sent you to the Gulf? Just like that?”
“Hardly.” He smiled. “I actually had plans to head for New York but my dad had passed away the same year and I figured I’d better stick close to home. Pure dumb luck because at the last minute they needed a flunky to accompany their overseas reporter. When he got sick over there, I was thrown in front of the camera.”
She grinned, forming a tiny dimple he hadn’t noticed before. “Not exactly close to home.”
“Nope, but the family really pushed for me to take advantage of the opportunity.” He’d been young and full of himself and hadn’t argued when maybe he should have, but everything turned out fine and he tried not to think about that.
“So, letters from your fan club started pouring in and soon you were a permanent fixture.”
He cringed at the accuracy. His popularity with the female audience had pretty much launched his career. Not that he hadn’t been a damn good reporter.
She touched his arm. “Hey, I was only kidding.”
Her hand lingered, and the way she looked at him with those soft brown eyes made the heat start to rise again.
The knock at the door from room service couldn’t have been better timed.
Madison sprang to her feet and headed for the door. With a grin over her shoulder, she said, “By the way, Zang Toi is a man.”
6
TWO CUPS OF CAFFEINE may have been a bad idea, Madison realized as she placed her empty cup on the tray room service had left on the glass coffee table. Now she had a real excuse for her hands to shake.
She was still a little rattled from their earlier encounter—she’d never been so unprofessional in her life. All she wanted to do was sit and stare at him, watch his hazel eyes change to that golden color as his passion grew, study the way his lower lip jutted out ever so slightly. She’d never been this sappy with a subject before. Famous or not.
She watched Jack sip his black coffee, the small white china cup looking exceptionally fragile wrapped in his long lean fingers. He got distracted by something outside the window, and the quiet intensity in his eyes made her want to grab her camera.
She moved, and when he paid no attention she did just that. But she got off only one shot before he gave her an annoyed look.
She shrugged. “I couldn’t resist.”
He didn’t seem happy, and she regretted taking advantage of the private moment.
“Okay,” she said breezily. “Ready to get back to work?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“I was hoping the coffee would improve your disposition.” She bit her lip. Too late. The snide remark was out there weighing down the air between them. What was wrong with her? Why was she behaving like this? Maybe, if she didn’t, she’d do something even more foolish…
“I promise it’ll improve as soon as this is over.” He set down the cup. “Where do you want me?”
“In the bedroom.”
His right eyebrow lifted. “Oh, really?”
“Let me get a new roll of film,” she murmured when a witty comeback failed her. “I’ll meet you in there.” She hesitated, and then added, “Feel free to take off your shirt.”
The look of astonishment on his face made her feel much better. More in control.
She laughed. “I guess that’s a no.”
“Depends on whether that’s a personal or professional request.”
“Which one will get your shirt off?”
He smiled, but before he answered, Madison’s cell phone went off, playing Pat Benatar’s “Love Is a Battlefield.”
She cursed silently for not having turned it off. Really stupid. Nothing was more important than this shoot. She was about to silence it when she noticed it was Karrie calling. In the second that she hesitated, Jack withdrew a cell phone from its case hooked onto his belt, and motioned for her to take the call.
Madison might have resisted, but he’d already started checking his messages. So she quickly answered before voice mail kicked in. “Hey, where have you been?”
“Rob and I were on a dig with some of his students and I didn’t have phone service. I just got your messages. What’s going on?”
Madison saw that Jack had wandered toward the bedroom, his phone at his ear, and she continued toward the far corner of the suite for more privacy. “I can’t talk long. I’m at a shoot.”
“But everything’s okay?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Damn, your messages about gave me a heart attack. You sounded…I don’t know…frantic.”
Madison sighed. “Sorry. I’d just needed to talk to you.”
“About what? Wait a minute, is this about Jack Logan? He agreed to the spread?”
“Yep.”
“Congratulations.” She paused. “Oh, wow, is that the shoot you’re on now?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Tell me.”
“Not a good time.” Madison glanced toward the bedroom door. No sign of Jack. A lot of street noise on the line made it difficult to hear. Karrie was obviously traveling. “Are you going to be home tonight?”
“You’re not making me wait. Is he as good-looking in person? Ouch.” Karrie chuckled. “Rob just pinched my leg.”
Madison smiled. As if he had anything to worry about. Karrie was so head-over-heels in love it was almost sickening. Madison had never seen her friend happier. “Tell him I said hey.”
“So, tell me about him.”
“I can’t. Seriously. Look, I’ll call you at home later. About five your time?”
“Make it six. We’re on our way back to Las Vegas now. Just one more question. Is he the one in the psychic’s prediction?”
“Oh, brother.”
“Come on, Madison. You can’t tell me you don’t believe after what happened to me with Rob.”
“Coincidence. That’s it. Madam Zora got lucky.” She glanced over her shoulder, not expecting to find him standing in the middle of the room, staring at her.
He quickly looked away but she wondered how much he’d heard. Not that she’d said anything bad. But still, it was unnerving knowing he’d been the topic of discussion.
“I really have to go now. I’ll call you later.” She barely heard Karrie say goodbye before Madison severed the connection. “Sorry,” she muttered, turned off her phone and stuffed it back in her camera bag.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” he said, “but I thought I heard you refer to a Madam Zora.”
Just what she needed. To have him think she was some fruitcake who sought advice from psychics. She shrugged. “She was a guest at a party I went to a few months ago. I don’t really know her.”
“She’s the psychic, right?”
“Yeah, I think so.” How the hell did he know who she was? The name, of course. After all, how many of her friends were called madam? “Ready to get started?”
His gaze narrowed. He didn’t make a move to follow her. “Why were you discussing this woman?”
Madison stared back, dumbfounded by his accusatory tone. “I apologize for taking a call, but that doesn’t give you the right to pry into my personal business.”
He blinked. “That wasn’t my intention.”
Then what was up with the questions? She sighed. Better to let it go. More talk would lead back to Madam Z., and she sure didn’t want to go there. “Okay, let’s just forget it.”
“I don’t think so.”
She stopped and swiveled around to stare at him. He wasn’t kidding. The oddest look distorted his face, a little angry, but mostly confused.
“I’d like to know why and with whom you were discussing Mada
m Zora.”
“Why?”
“If you’re setting me up, I don’t have to tell you our agreement is null.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She could tell he was serious, and she didn’t want to anger him. Which was probably too late, judging by the stern set of his jaw, the suspicion in his eyes. “Really, I don’t.”
“You say you met this Madam Zora at a party?”
“Yes, a group of women I know take turns giving theme parties. Sonya Zimmerman hired Madam Zora to give readings.” She shrugged. “I don’t even believe in that nonsense. It was just entertainment.”
He seemed to relax, even seemed somewhat interested. “So you had a reading?”
She shrugged. “Only because I had my arm twisted.” She vaguely understood his curiosity but she sure didn’t want to continue this conversation. “It’s almost ten. We really need to get back to work.”
“How did she do with the reading? Any accuracy to it? Or did she stick to broad generalities?”
“Why are you so interested?”
He sighed, looking mildly disgusted. “I guess you heard she’s the new celebrity fad.”
“A friend said something about her being the new psychic to the stars but I figured Shelly had been reading the tabloids again. I mean, the woman had a good gig going. Dressed the part, had the candles and aromatherapy stuff going on, but come on…give me the right props and I could be Madam M.”
He smiled. “So you don’t believe that some people actually have a gift or sixth sense.”
“Of course not.” She hesitated, afraid she might have offended him with her disdain. “Do you?”
“No, but I have the dubious pleasure of interviewing the famous Madam Z. next week.”
“No way.”
He nodded.
“On your show?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Wow!”
“What?”
Madison shrugged a shoulder, hesitating, wary of offending him. “I didn’t figure you for someone who would give a psychic that much credence.”
“She’s just an assignment. As a matter of fact, I personally think the whole psychic thing is a bunch of bull. The phenomena, however, is fascinating.”
“I thought the trend was kind of passé.”
His eyebrows lifted in amusement. “How long ago did you have your reading?”
“I told you it wasn’t my idea. Plus, I would never have paid for something like that. Now, may we please get to the bedroom?”
“Put that way, how could I resist?”
She heard the humor in his voice but kept walking toward the bedroom without a backward glance. Although she doubted she’d heard the last of his questions regarding Madam Zora.
Madison shuddered at the memory of the psychic’s warning. A good-looking man, the animal attraction, being swept away, the inability to reason…That was so not Madison. Of course none of what the woman said had anything to do with Jack Logan, either, for God’s sake.
She got to the bedroom and opened the drapes halfway, studied how the light filtered into the room and then made some adjustments. The sun was still low and partially blocked by another building on the next street. Perfect.
They would have to act quickly to capture the way the natural light practically made the bed glow. She turned to find Jack standing at the door watching her.
“I’d like to get a couple of shots with this lighting,” she said motioning him over. “But we’ll have to really move.”
“Where do you want me?”
“Here.” She pointed to a corner of the bed where the sunlight hit.
Frowning, he tentatively moved closer. “You want me to sit?”
“Right here.”
“And do what?”
“Don’t look so worried. Your virtue is safe with me.”
He laughed, and damn, she wished she’d had her camera ready. He perched on the corner of the bed as she’d requested, but he still looked tense. Annoyed. As if he’d rather be anywhere but here. Wasn’t gonna work.
“Okay,” she said, stepping back and readying her camera. “Don’t freak out on me, but how about you unbutton your top button?”
“Right.”
“Just pretend you’re about to get undressed. You don’t really have to.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Come on.” She stayed in focus, waiting. “I’ll unbutton mine if you’ll unbutton yours.”
That startled a laugh out of him and she clicked. “Ah, so this was supposed to be a humorous shot.”
“No, but I’ll take what I can get.” She crouched down to get a different angle and nearly lost her balance.
Jack grabbed her forearm, his strong fingers easily circling the area just above her wrist.
“I’m fine.”
He released her, and she fell backward.
Muttering a mild oath, she struggled back up. Well, she had been fine until he touched her.
“Need help?”
The amusement in his voice was enough to give her momentum and she righted herself. “No, thanks.”
This wasn’t good. Her thoughts kept going back to Madam Zora and her ludicrous prediction and screwing with Madison’s concentration. As if her awareness of Jack wasn’t already heightened enough. Although it was an interesting challenge to have such a compelling subject.
But this wasn’t about her career. The man did funny things to her insides. Made her forget she was a professional. Tempted her with forbidden fruit. Upset her focus. She had to be stronger. Much stronger.
“What exactly are you looking for?” Jack asked after a long silence.
“If I use the ‘s’ word, are you going to get mad?” She didn’t need an answer. His reaction was clear in the dip of his brows. “Okay, forget that. Just try to look relaxed. As if you’ve just returned home after a long day at the office or after walking in Central Park with a friend. You might be absently unbuttoning your shirt to take—”
He shook his head. “Here we go again.”
“I’m not asking you to take off your shirt. I mean, I am, but I know you won’t, so I just want it to look as if you’re unwinding for the day and about to change your clothes.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m trying to tell a story here.” With pictures. Just as Madam Z. had pointed out. Oh, no, she couldn’t think about that crackpot and her silly prediction again. Not now. She breathed in deeply. “Each picture should show a different side of you.”
“I prefer the clothed sides.”
“Very funny. Look.” She got ahold of his top button before he could say a word and slid it free.
Actually he looked too stunned to stop her. Hadn’t even flinched. He only stared at her, his eyes a kaleidoscope of greens and gold and brown, making her knees dangerously weak.
She lowered her hands to her sides. “There. Not so bad, huh?” She took a tentative step back, slowly, testing the strength in her legs before she made a total fool out of herself. “Now if you’ll pretend you’re about to undo the next button, I’ll take a few shots.”
He spread his hands. “You want to show me how I should do that, too?”
She couldn’t tell if he was angry or teasing her. “I was only trying to break the ice.”
“Go ahead. Show me what you want.”
“You know…” She fidgeted with the neckline of her T-shirt as if it had buttons.
“Kind of like a striptease?”
Maybe she shouldn’t have touched him but now he was ticking her off. “If you want.”
JACK COULDN’T HIDE his smile as he watched the storm brewing in her eyes. She was a puzzle for sure. Even though she generally remained professional and composed, he could tell she was uneasy around him.
He wasn’t naive about the effect he had on women. Whether he liked it or not. But he didn’t think that was the problem with Madison. She was too sure of herself, too goal oriented to let sex or chemistry get in her way.
�
��I’ll pass on that one.”
“A pity.”
He smiled. “Are you hungry?”
Her eyebrows went up, and her mouth dropped open. “Are you crazy?”
“Well, no, though you’re pushing me pretty close to the edge.”
She glanced at her watch. “Did you know that it’s almost eleven already?”
“Probably why I’m hungry. Your point?”
“I’ll be lucky if I have one picture I can use so far.”
“You gotta be kidding.”
“No, I’m not, but I think you know that.”
They glared at each other for a moment. She was right. Jack knew the morning hadn’t gone well. He also knew he was partly to blame. And he realized how accustomed he’d become to getting his way. But not this time. He was locked into this deal. The only saving grace was Madison. He liked her.
“Okay,” he said finally, “for the next half hour we get as much done as possible. We have lunch at eleven-thirty.”
“I’ve got a couple of candy bars and some cheese crackers.”
“You actually eat that junk?”
“How hungry are you?”
“Not that hungry.” He tapped the face of his watch. “Better get moving. We have half an hour.”
She pressed her lips together, and her breasts rose and fell with the deep breath she took. His gaze followed the curve of her neck to the point of her chin where a shallow cleft indented her flawless skin. Not particularly noticeable. You had to really look to see it.
Out of nowhere came the sudden urge to lick the spot. To run his tongue over her lips, to part them and slip inside. The idea startled him, possessed him, took such a strong hold of his will it scared the hell out of him.
“Okay,” she said in that no-nonsense way of hers. “It’s up to you. Cooperate and you could be wolfing down a cheeseburger in half an hour.”
He wished. “I doubt that.”
“Oh, excuse me, I forgot you’re a caviar kind of guy.”
“No, but my personal trainer is. Actually, he’s more a tuna kind of guy. No mayo. A squirt of lemon juice if I’m lucky.”
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