Hot Property (Hot Zone 4)

Roper. He was the reason she’d gotten so carried away. One minute they’d been talking and getting to know each other better and the next he’d looked at her with those golden-green eyes and she’d melted into him like a snowflake in July. Pathetic, that’s what she was. She couldn’t even keep the resolution she’d made to herself the day before.

She pulled an old T-shirt from her drawer and awkwardly unzipped her dress, remembering how sensual it had felt when Roper had undressed her, his strong fingers skimming her back. She shivered at the memory, her nipples puckering into hard knots.

She let out a frustrated sigh. She’d told herself going into the date that she needed a friend, but she’d lied to herself. She’d agreed to go to dinner because she didn’t want to turn him down. She liked him too much and wanted him too badly.

They hadn’t discussed business and she hadn’t wanted to ruin their time together by bringing up the lodge. Instead she’d put herself and her needs before the job.

Her mistake had been in thinking she could resist his charm. That she could deny her desire for him just because it was the smart thing to do. It was time for her to put her priorities back in order.

He was a client. Her relationship with him was professional. And her first order of business tomorrow would be to convince him to head upstate for some R and R—Rehab and Running away from his family.

In other words, she needed to be hands-on when it came to her job, not when it came to John Roper.

ROPER PICKED AMY UP THE next morning with a game plan. It wasn’t solid and it had more than a few holes, but it was a start. Every plan had a goal and his was to sway Amy into thinking there was nothing wrong with them picking up where they left off. She didn’t like the fact that he attracted the media and he didn’t blame her. But there was nothing wrong with a discreet affair between two people who were extremely interested in each other.

The first step in convincing her was to keep them together. He picked her up with lattes from Star-bucks for both of them, a grin on his face and an attitude that let her know he wasn’t holding a grudge over her turning cold on him the night before.

Once they were settled in the car, she turned to him. “Before we get going, I need to talk to you about a few things.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What is it?” She sounded serious but not panicked, which he took to mean she was about to hit him with a professional, not personal, matter.

“I should have brought these things up sooner but I was distracted.” Her cheeks flushed and her gaze darted from his, leaving no doubt just what that distraction had been. She drew a deep breath. “Anyway, the first thing I want to talk about is the media. I read Buckley’s blog.”

He leaned his head back against the seat. “That’s a surefire way to ruin my morning. What about it?”

“Well, we were spotted at lunch. You didn’t mention it to me but I’m sure you know.”

Yeah, he knew. He gripped the top of the steering wheel with both hands. “I didn’t think you needed another reason to avoid me.”

“That’s personal. Professionally, I’m the person you’re supposed to go to on things like this. So if our friendship or relationship or whatever you want to call it is going to hinder our professional relationship, then we have a problem. I can turn you over to another publicist—”

“No.”

Losing daily access to her was the last thing he wanted. “You’re right. I should have told you right away about the blog. But you have to realize that I’m his target right now. Buckley’s going to keep hitting on me until he finds someone else.”

She pursed her pink-glossed lips and nodded slowly. “Which begs the question. Why are you his target? There are other things going on at the moment. Basketball brawls. Hockey suspensions. Why you? Why now?”

He swallowed hard and decided to whitewash the truth. “I, um, dated his ex-girlfriend. She’s now his wife.”

She narrowed her gaze. “So it’s jealousy.”

“Insanity is more like it,” he muttered.

“Well, whatever the reason, that’s twice in one week you were spotted out and about without any promotion ahead of time.” She leaned forward, giving him a view into her soft blouse and the cleavage he’d tasted last night. “Is that kind of coverage normal?” she asked.

He cleared his throat and tried to focus. “No, it’s not.”

“So how does the press just happen to know where you are?” she asked, persistent in her curiosity.

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Actually, he did care. A lot.

He just couldn’t change it.

“Well, you need to start to pay attention. Who knows your schedule and routine? Who do you speak to and mention your comings and goings?”

“As in you think someone close to me is reporting to Buckley?” he asked in disbelief.

“Not just Buckley. Gawkerstalker.com knows where you are, too, way too often to ignore them. Someone is phoning in information.”