“Oh, come on,” he pressed. His plan to have her talk about herself wasn't working. Most women loved talking about themselves, so it surprised him. “There must be something you like to do.”
She smiled and shook her head, avoiding his gaze. It was as if she were embarrassed by her hobby, or perhaps trying to keep her distance from him. Most of the time, he was the one trying to put distance between himself and women, so the reverse was incredibly intriguing.
“Horseback riding?” he asked. She shook her head. “Bird watching? Knitting? Swimming? Karate? Underwater basket-weaving?”
She laughed at the last one. The sound was sweet and made his heart speed up again. At this rate, he was going to get his full cardio workout without having to go to the gym.
“Reading,” she answered, finally relenting. “I like to read.”
He could see her in his mind's eye, curling up on a gray evening with a cup of tea and a book. Funny, how the chair she was sitting in was his and the view out the window matched the one from his home.
“What kind of books?” he asked. Now that she was talking, he wasn't about to let her stop.
“Anything. Everything.” She shrugged.
She was avoiding his question, which just made him more curious to know what she enjoyed reading. He wanted to know everything he could about this woman, and her reading tastes were just the start. “You must have a specific genre you enjoy.”
She twisted her mouth, but her eyes were bright. She wasn't mad, just unwilling to give him an answer. “I like happy endings.”
He grinned. He knew that code word in the reading world. “So you read romance.”
Her mouth opened in protest before closing. He could see her fire building, the light that he was already enjoying so much growing and spilling out of her as she became animated.
“Yes, I like romance.” She raised her chin and puffed out her chest. “I read romance novels in my spare time. So make fun of me all you want.”
“Why do you like them?” he asked, enjoying the way her eyes flashed at him and the set of her jaw.
“There's enough sadness and darkness in the world that I don't want to spend my free time dwelling there too.” She raised her hazel eyes, daring him to make fun of her. “I read romance because I like knowing there's a happy ending coming.”
“Good for you.” He leaned on the railing, feeling her eyes boring into him. “I prefer action and sci-fi myself, but I've read a couple of romance novels that I certainly enjoyed. I can see the appeal.”
He turned to see her jaw drop, obviously surprised at his answer. He liked that he surprised her.
“What? You were expecting me not to have read any?” he asked.
“You don't exactly look the type,” she commented, her eyes going up and down his body. Was it just his imagination, or did her pupils dilate? He couldn't tell from this angle.
“When a book can outsell The Bible, even for a short amount of time, I pay attention. It doesn't matter what the genre is. What matters is that it resonates with people.” He shrugged. Popularity meant money in his world. It didn't matter if it was a 'women's thing.' If it made money, it was his thing. “There's something about that kind of story that appeals to people, and if I want to stay on top of current events and understand how people tick, then I read the damn book.”
“I'm impressed by your reading habits, Jace.” She smiled at him then turned away, mumbling to herself. He thought he heard, “why do you keep getting better and better?” but the wind off the lake was just loud enough to keep it from his ears.
“Just don't tell the press,” he pleaded, turning toward her and putting his palms together in a prayer gesture. He winked. “I have to maintain my bad boy masculine appearance.”
She laughed, and his soul soared. When she smiled, the world lit up and he could swear there was orchestral music and fireworks.
A perfect strand of hair crossed her face, pushed by the wind. His hand moved as if through honey, but he brushed it from her forehead and tucked it behind her ear. The touch of her skin against his hand sent electricity coursing through every part of his body. He wanted to touch every inch of her like that.
She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, forgetting for a moment that she had been trying to keep their distance this whole time. God, he wanted to kiss her. Those lips called to him like sirens and he was more than happy to crash and never return.
Suddenly she shook herself and stepped back. It was then that he noticed the pocket of her maid's uniform was glowing and making a humming noise.
“I'm sorry, I shouldn't...” she stammered and pulled further away.
“No, it's fine. You're working,” he mumbled, wishing that he could just go back thirty seconds and stop that damn phone from interrupting them. This was the second time something had pulled her away. It was strange, considering he was usually the one always on the phone getting pulled away. No wonder people hated it when he did it.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, watching her face drain of all color as she read the message on her phone. She was gray with a green twist that made him want to sc
oop her up in his arms and rush her off to the nearest doctor.