“Hello,” she said finally, having made him wait for her response with intent. It was all part of a game. The one she controlled, not him. He would have to work for what she wanted. She loved that. He worked. She wanted. The prize was hers.
“I’ve seen you here before,” he said.
“Have you now?” she asked, one dark blonde brow inching upward. Interesting. He’d noticed her before this night.
He smiled. A sexy, one-sided smile she’d seen him use for the camera. “I’m Declan Price.”
She gave him a tiny nod and then reached up and slid her long blonde hair over her shoulder, exposing her neck. Testing him to see if he would follow the action. And he did.
“Zoe,” she said. Life had taught her to leave her last name out of things. Marks made men get a hard-on and it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with money.
“Okay, Zoe. I’d buy you a drink,” he said, “but it looks like you have that covered. Perhaps your next one?”
“Buy you one,” she said. “This is my last. Everything is better in color. By drink three it’s a blur for me.”
He laughed. “Lightweight, huh?” Declan raised a hand at the bartender.
“Only when it comes to alcohol.”
After ordering a scotch on the rocks, he studied her a moment. “What does a beautiful woman like you do for a living?”
She tilted her head slightly. “Compliments will get you everywhere, Declan Price.”
He laughed. “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“As for what I do for a living, are you sure you want to know?”
His eyes narrowed. “I’m a brave man. Tell me.”
“Brave,” she said. “Hmm. I guess we’re about to find out just how brave.” She paused and then dropped her bomb. “I’m a reporter.”
A slow nod of his head. “Ah,” he said and stepped closer rather than distance himself as she half expected. So close, his hand went to the back of her chair and she could feel the warmth of his body. A slight lean forward and their legs would touch. She tilted her head upward to make eye contact. If he was trying to scare her off, it wasn’t working. She wanted him. Sexual intimacy didn’t frighten her. There was no little girl waiting to run, hidden beneath her shell.
“Thinking you might seduce me for a story, are you?” he whispered, his voice soft and husky. Seductive. He leaned down near her ear so that his breath tickled her lobe.
“You came to me, not the opposite,” she reminded him. “Who’s seducing who?”
For a long moment, he said nothing, leaning back to study her expression. Then he laughed. “I guess that’s still up for debate.” His drink appeared, and he turned away to deal with the bartender. Then, attention back on Zoe, he lifted his glass in a mock toast before taking a sip. He set his drink back down and casually leaned against the railing, elbow on the surface. “So what game are we playing, Zoe?”
“Game?” she asked, brow inching upward. “If this were a game I wouldn’t have told you I’m a reporter.”
“Maybe,” he said, his tone said he wasn’t so sure.
“Disappointed? Maybe you’d prefer a little Zoe and mouse action?”
He laughed and leaned toward her again. “We both know I’m no mouse.”
“You wouldn’t be interesting if you were.”
“Unless I was a mouse who could make headlines,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
“Are we talking professional or personal?”
He studied her. “Is there a difference?”
She nodded. “There’s a difference.”
“So you don’t want to seduce me for a story?” There was amusement not irritation in his voice.
She slid her hand to his thigh, enjoying the flex of muscle beneath her palm. “Not for a story.”
His eyes darkened. Grew hotter. “But you want a story?”
“Absolutely,” she said reaching for her drink, taking a sip before finishing. “But not from you.” She smiled. “Sorry, Declan. You aren’t on everyone’s headline news. I do entertainment.” She paused, unable to stop the next words from slipping from her lips. “Of course, some might call your courtroom adventures entertainment. Just not me.”
“Is that right?” he challenged, amusement in his eyes.
Her teeth found her bottom lip. She was enjoying this. “Yes. That’s right.”
A shiver raced down her spine as his hand slid to her neck. He was testing her. Trying to find out if she was all talk. She looked into his eyes, letting him see what was there. Zoe didn’t do serious relationships. She’d long ago found most men wanted her father’s money more than they gave a damn about her. Age had smartened her up. Promises of love did nothing for her, but she liked a hot night here or there. She wasn’t wild and crazy or anything. One-night stands weren’t her habit. However, a month-long fling once in a while did her right.