Tall, Dark & Reckless

by Heather MacAllister

  Mark didn’t know what “something” she referred to, but he guessed it wasn’t about him. “Are you mad that I sped things along with the couple? I know you worked me in this afternoon, so I thought if I helped you with them, it would save time.”

  “You interfered. In your usual self-centered, arrogant, conceited way, you assumed you knew more about my subject than I do.”

  “It’s dating.” He gave her a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me smile.

  “Do you go on many dates?”

  Actually, he did not. “I don’t have much downtime when I’m in the field.”

  “So that’s a ‘no’ to dating a lot.”

  Why was she making such a big deal out of this? “Well, not the whole flowers and dressing up and expensive restaurant routine, but I’ve got no problems with the ladies.”

  “Of course you don’t.” Her clinical voice matched her clinical expression and he disliked both. “They flock to you. Thick crowds of women surround you, jaws slack, their glazed eyes following your every move, ever hopeful that you’ll deign to shine the bright light of your devastating smile upon them.”

  “Piper.”

  “Then you crook your finger and the lucky lady follows you into your lair, eager to do your bidding until you tire of her.”

  “Piper!” He stopped and grasped her arm, turning her so they faced each other.

  Angry brown eyes glared up at him and he promptly forgot what he’d been going to say.

  Awareness flowed through him. Traffic noises receded and he ignored the pedestrians walking around them while they stood right in the middle of the sidewalk next to a live oak tree.

  Those eyes of hers were going to get him into trouble. They saw right through to the man behind the facade. No one else had ever thought to look, not that Mark stuck around long enough to give anybody a chance.

  It was unnerving the way she was able to strip all emotion out of her face and voice so he never knew what she was thinking. The most her eyes had ever expressed was a detached curiosity.

  Until now.

  She was furious with him. Sure, she wore the same detached expression, but her eyes were angry. So very angry. Other than a brief flash of pity, it was the only strong emotion he’d provoked in her. At least she felt something for him. It didn’t matter that it was anger and not desire. Passion was passion, no matter what the emotion. If Piper could feel anger, she could feel desire. Mark already felt desire.

  If she were someone else and they were someplace else, Mark would demonstrate just how quickly anger could become desire. The cause of her anger wouldn’t matter because when the passion disappeared, so would he. It would be simple and uncomplicated, and they’d both be left with terrific memories.

  But they were not someplace else and Piper was the woman who connected with the Mark Banning other women never saw, so it did matter what made her angry.

  He’d have to deal with it. Mark wasn’t good at dealing with deep emotions, at least other people’s deep emotions, yet he knew interfering back at the diner wasn’t enough to make her this angry at him. There was something more. But what?

  The muscles in her arm bunched, reminding him he still had his hand wrapped around it. An instant later, she jerked away.

  “What?” She practically snarled the word.

  “I’m sorry if I made you angry,” he said, taking care to inject sincerity into his voice.

  “If you made me angry? You’re not sure?”

  “Yes. I’m sure. I’m very sure I made you angry. And I am sincerely, truly, deeply sorry.”

  “What are you sincerely, truly, deeply sorry for?”

  “Making you angry.” This was going even worse than he’d expected.

  “Yes, but how did you make me angry?”

  “Do apologies come with quizzes now?” Mark was getting a little angry, himself.

  “An apology is an expression of regret, Mark. You can’t regret something if you don’t know what it is.”

  “I’m beginning to regret apologizing.”

  She shook her head and started walking again. “You barged into my business without thinking, without considering the consequences.”

  He’d thought the consequences would be getting the couple back on track faster so she’d have more time for him. “I was trying to help. The guy needed a few tips and I thought he’d take it better from me than from you.”

  “The idea was for me to observe a typical date. What you did is not typical. If they’d been a random couple you noticed in a restaurant, would you really have approached the guy and critiqued him in front of his date?”

  “No, but they weren’t a random couple.”

  “That’s not the point.” Piper took a long slow breath and let it out just as slowly. “You interfered when I asked you not to. That’s the point.”

  Mark thought. “I don’t recall you telling me not to interfere.”

  “You didn’t give me the chance.” She gazed steadily at him. “I think you do that all the time. You just start doing something and ignore or pretend not to hear anyone else’s opinion.”

  For a few beats, Mark looked down the street. She was right, but most of the time people were only going to try to talk him out of something he was going to do anyway. Or they had nothing of value to add and just wasted his time.

  He looked back at Piper. “Because in the time people spend yammering about something, I can get it done.”

  “Even if it’s wrong?”

  “Then at least you’ve got something to fix.”

  “Back at Friezen’s?” She gestured behind them. “There was nothing that needed to be fixed.”

  Difference of opinion. “I’m sorry I interfered. But you saw how that girl was reacting—why did you let it go on so long?”

  “I was videotaping them.”

  “Where’s the camera?” Mark looked her over. “In the ugly purse?”

  Piper drew it closer to her. “Why does everyone think this purse is ugly?”

  “Because it is?”

  She gave him an irritated look and started walking.

  “Look. I’m sorry I messed things up for you. Now are we good?”

  She put a hand on his forearm. Her touch startled him and he stopped abruptly to look down at her.

  She moved around to stand in front of him on the sidewalk, her eyes still intense, but no longer angry. “Don’t ignore me ever again.”

  “I won’t,” he quickly assured her, relieved to have successfully negotiated the emotional minefield.

  But Piper wasn’t finished, so he wasn’t quite out of it yet. “I’m going to be giving you my opinion about potential work partners. I don’t expect you to agree with everything I say, but I do expect you to truly consider it. If you’re not going to take me seriously, then let’s stop wasting time.”

  “I do take you seriously.” More than she knew.

  A piece of hair blew across her face and their hands collided as both reached to brush it away. She gave him a stern look and started walking again. “No flirting and no trying to dazzle women with your charm.”

  He grinned. “You’re taking all the fun out of it.”

  “Mark—”

  “Relax. I’ll dial it down.”

  They took several more steps before she said, “You don’t need to work that hard, you know. You’re so dynamically good-looking that when you pour it on, women are overwhelmed.”

  “I’m…not sure how to respond to that. Thank you?”

  She smiled briefly. “I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.”

  He hadn’t known she found him “dynamically good-looking.”

  “Just be extra-aware of your effect on women you’re interviewing,” she cautioned.

  “You’re not going to recommend anyone who’ll be overwhelmed by my godlike handsomeness.”

  She laughed and flashed him a brilliant smile. “You’re right! Very good.”

  For just a second, he’d glimpsed the woman behind the prof
essional mask, the way she’d respond and look at him if she weren’t maintaining a professional distance. He wanted to see more of that woman. Mark’s breath caught as something reached inside him, grabbed hold of his heart and squeezed. She could be the one. No. His hand fisted against his thigh. He’d really gone soft if a laugh and a smile had him thinking mushy thoughts. He didn’t do mushy.

  He didn’t do relationships, period.

  Clearing his throat, he asked, “So, uh, what’s next? How does this work?”

  * * *

  WELL, THAT HADN’T WORKED.

  Piper had hoped that by addressing his attraction to women with him matter-of-factly, it would neutralize its effect on her and turn it into a doctor-patient thing.

  Nope.

  As they walked on a sidewalk made uneven by tree roots, he occasionally stepped close enough to brush her arm or for her to feel a minute warming in the air temperature because of his body heat. Even within the thick hoodie she wore, the hairs on her arms raised when he was close enough to touch.

  Anger hadn’t worked, either, especially when it meant she wanted to beat her fists against his chest and then fling herself against it as his arms encircled her right before he kissed her passionately.

  In the middle of the sidewalk.

  No, scratch anger.

  Remaining detached wasn’t working, either, especially when he stared into her eyes and made her feel all twitchy inside.

  She was just so aware of him and he wasn’t even trying. And when he did try, he didn’t mean it. Yet, she still reacted and it baffled her.

  When he’d reached to brush the stupid wig hair off her face, she’d banged his hand out of the way, because all she needed was to feel his fingers against her cheek and her face would get that zombie-sex-slave look on it.

  I just can’t help myself, she’d heard clients—and her mother—tell her over and over. She’d thought they were weak and self-indulgent. Now, not so much. Fighting an unwanted attraction was exhausting.

  Fortunately, Mark had just asked her how she planned to proceed. Piper might as well begin right now because the sooner she found someone to work with him, the less chance she had of embarrassing herself. Again.

  “I have a general compatibility survey I’ll have you fill out. Based on what I learn from that, I’ll ask you questions,” she told him.

  “What kind of questions?”

  “Let’s see… In your case, I’ll want to know your relationship style.” She had a pretty good idea already. Cut to the chase. And there was never much of a chase. “You don’t formally date because of your lifestyle.”

  “Right.”

  “And I noticed everything you demonstrated to Medina was quick and to the point, with no time wasted on the preliminaries. No subtlety.”

  “Hey.” He glanced down at her.

  “Not a criticism. You live at a faster pace. I’m guessing you can’t spend a lot of time forming relationships.”

  He shook his head.

  “As an adult, how long was your longest relationship? It doesn’t have to be romantic.” Although she was unprofessionally curious.

  “How are you defining relationship?”

  Typical wary male. “One where you interacted on a frequent and regular basis that resulted in you and the other party considering each other’s feelings and learning intimate details of each other’s lives.”

  “How intimate?” he asked cautiously.

  Do. Not. Blush. “What you’d learn from living with someone or from a longtime friend. I’m not talking one-night stands, here.”

  Mark nodded, but she could tell he didn’t want to answer. Probably didn’t want to think about it, either.

  “I haven’t really had a long-term relationship.”

  Piper wasn’t surprised. “Roommates?”

  “Not since freshman year in the dorm.”

  “Okay, that counts. So nine or ten months.”

  “No.” He grimaced. “He wasn’t someone I’d consider a friend. I certainly didn’t care what he did and his intimate habits were disgusting.”

  Piper gave a short laugh. “I get the picture.”

  “And I’m sorry for that.”

  “How about your longest work relationship?”

  “Working for OMG, I guess. Four years.”

  “Hmm. That’s not exactly your typical eight-to-five job. I was looking for one where you show up regularly and see the same people and interact with them.”

  Mark hunched his shoulders. “Some part-time jobs, I guess.”

  When Mark said he worked alone, he meant alone. She foresaw a bumpy road ahead.

  “I’m guessing you were an only child.”

  “Yes.”

  “What about friends?”

  “I’ve got plenty of friends.” He scowled as he spoke. “I meet people all over the world.”

  Since she’d started asking questions, he’d looked into the store windows they passed, watched the birds pick at crumbs on the sidewalk and gazed into the trees every time the leaves rustled in the breeze. Anywhere but at her.

  Piper backed off on the questions until they reached the end of the block, waited for the light to change and crossed the street. Then she asked, “Who’s your closest friend?”

  Mark exhaled heavily and appeared to study the menu on a cafe’s chalk sign as they walked past. “Travis, I guess.”

  That would be news to Travis. “Does Travis think of you as his friend?” she asked carefully.

  “He got me out of a Mexican mountain camp,” Mark said harshly. “I’d call that being a friend.”

  “So you guys hang out and drink beer, watch sports together, that kind of thing?” she pressed.

  Mark gritted his teeth. “It’s not that kind of friendship. I’ve got plenty of journalist buddies for that.”

  “Who would you ask to dogsit?”

  “I don’t have a dog.”

  “Of course not. Uh…who do you ask to water your plants, collect your mail and keep an eye on your place when you’re gone?”

  “No plants, I have a post office box and great building security.”

  Piper tamped down her irritation. If he wouldn’t make this easy for her, she wouldn’t make it easy for him. “Who inherits your stuff?”

  He looked down at her in disbelief. “My mom. But what’s it matter? When it comes to that, I won’t care.”

  “I’m trying to find a relationship you’ve had so I can learn things like how you resolve conflicts, what sets you off, whether you’ve got a short fuse or a long fuse, whether you’re a morning person or a night owl, how you decompress—”

  “I get that,” he interrupted her. “But walking along the streets of Austin while I spill my guts isn’t my idea of a good time.”

  Piper guessed he wouldn’t like spilling his guts under any circumstances. “It’s different when you’re the one being interviewed.”

  “It is,” he admitted. “I’d much rather ask the questions.”

  “Then ask me one.”

  She’d surprised him.

  “Okay. What’s your longest relationship?”

  And now he’d surprised her. “Dancie,” she answered promptly. “We’ve been friends since sophomore year of college. She let me live with her rent free for a couple of years or I would have had to quit school. She got me the gig with OMG, too. I owe her.”

  “She sounds like a good friend.”

  There was wistfulness in his voice and Piper knew he’d be appalled that she’d heard it.

  “She is. It’s interesting. I’ve got one really close friend and you have lots of casual friends.”

  “What can I say?” He smiled without humor. “Different lifestyles.”

  The truth was that Mark had a lot of acquaintances, but nobody actually knew him. They knew about him. He presented the world with a good-looking, confident exterior and a glamorous, exciting job. Hundreds of thousands read all about his adventures and he was the envy of the entire Guys of Texas readership.<
br />
  Piper would bet that she knew the man behind the image better than anyone else. And about that image… “How much of that stuff you wrote for Travis is true?”

  He grinned. “You read my columns?”

  “Some,” she admitted. “You were the competition. So?”

  “It’s all true,” he told her. “But they’re more about the sizzle than the meat.”

  “Even the ones about being captured?”

  His jaw hardened. “Not those. It’s not a thing to glamorize. Besides, there are people who helped me who could suffer for it.”

  “How long were you held hostage?”

  “Five months.” Absently, he rubbed his wrist. “Could we please not discuss it?”

  In Piper’s experience, when a client didn’t want to discuss something, that was exactly what they should be discussing. But he’d said please. He hadn’t flat-out refused. And for a man like Mark, that was a huge concession.

  So Piper said, “Okay.” Ironically, the relationship with his captors was the longest he’d told her about so far.

  Nodding, he dropped his arm.

  “Mark?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Could I see your wrist?”

  “There’s nothing to see.”

  Piper stopped walking.

  Mark continued for half a dozen steps before he stopped. She watched his shoulders rise and fall.

  “Fine.” he said. As he walked back to her, he unbuttoned his cuff and peeled it back. “Here.” He thrust his arm out.

  Although she’d half expected to see the faded pink scar line from where his wrist had been bound, the sight made the breath hiss between her teeth. She knew he’d been a hostage, and knew his leg had been hurt. But seeing the scar from where he’d been tied up for who knows how long made her want to wrap her arms around him and never let go.

  “Oh, Mark.” Gently, she ran her fingertips over the bumpy ridge. It was wider in some places than others. Different bindings? Hours of struggling to escape?

  She looked up to find his head close, his eyes searching hers. “They must have kept you tied up for days!”

  He barely nodded.

  “Is your other wrist this bad?”

  He slowly moved his head from side to side. “This one got infected.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Not your fault.”