“Told Amy how you feel about her? That you’re in love with her? Maybe knowing she’s the one will help her settle things in here.” Micki tapped her head. “She can’t read your mind, you know.”
“No, I haven’t told her.” He hadn’t put her first, either.
He missed Amy like crazy and Micki was right. Amy was driving him insane by not falling at his feet.
“Any reason why not?” Micki asked.
He shrugged. “It’s not every day I make a realization like that one. I guess I wasn’t ready.”
“You ought to get yourself ready,” Micki suggested. “Before you lose her for good.”
“Thanks for the advice,” he said, coming around the desk and pulling her into a big hug, which she easily returned.
“Anytime.”
He didn’t bother telling Micki he wasn’t holding out much hope that if he bared his heart and soul to Amy, they were guaranteed a future.
Amy wouldn’t consider returning to the way things were at the lodge. She claimed it was because she was his publicist, but he didn’t believe her. She had deeper reasons for avoiding him—and his bed. His life in the public eye was one heavy part of her reasoning, but he sensed there was more and he didn’t know what that more was.
He wasn’t even certain Amy, herself, knew why she was avoiding any emotional closeness between them. But Micki was right about one thing. Amy needed to know how he felt.
He needed to break through her defenses and hope that he was wrong.
That the three little words women loved to hear would actually make a difference.
He walked from Micki’s office directly to Amy’s. He was a man on a mission and not the gentleman she’d been dealing with during their time at the lodge. He was determined not only to make his point but to get her to see the error in her thinking. Either she listened or he was shit out of luck. He didn’t want to think about that possibility.
He entered without knocking.
Startled, both Amy and Yank, who sat across from her desk, turned to stare.
“Roper!” they both said at the same time.
Suddenly he felt like an ass. But his reasons for barging in hadn’t changed so he kept walking toward her. “Hi, Yank,” he said to his agent. “Bye, Yank.”
As if agreeing with Roper, Yank’s fluffy dog barked.
“Of all the nerve!” Amy strode around her desk and stepped between the two men. “You can’t barge in, interrupt a private meeting and expect to get your way. Yank, you aren’t going anywhere,” Amy said, her cheeks flushed pink with anger.
The older man leaned back in his seat. “You heard the girl. I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Yank said, his tone not only smug but amused.
Roper wasn’t worried. He still held the trump card. “My career may suck at the moment, but I’m still worth money. If you want to be the one who gets me the deals, you’ll give me and Amy some time alone.” Roper stared his agent down because otherwise Yank, who loved drama and gossip as much as any female, would have kept his ass in the chair.
Yank groaned. “Man, you’re taking what little fun I still get out of my life,” he muttered as he rose from his seat.
“You’ll survive,” Roper said wryly.
“It’s my office. I have the final say.” Amy perched her hands on her hips.
Roper took a moment to admire her high-waisted black slacks and fitted buttoned-down shirt, which accentuated the curves he’d learned well, both with his hands and his tongue.
He shifted positions before dealing with the task at hand. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but I’m the client. And the client is always right,” Roper said to Amy. Then he turned to Yank. “Tell her I’m right.”
He ran a hand through his shaggy hair and groaned. “We’ll talk later, girlie,” Yan
k said. He pulled on Noodle’s leash and he and the dog strode out of the room.
They were alone. Roper might have won the battle but he didn’t kid himself. He hadn’t yet won the war.