Dare She Kiss & Tell?

When the crowd’s murmur of laughter faded Carly spoke, her smile bright, her tone light—but Hunter knew it wasn’t genuine. “Anyone who’s worked with my father is familiar with his strict business policy, Brian. He would never apply thumbscrews on anyone’s behalf.” She hesitated, her smile growing bigger, but the heart was gone. “Not even his daughter’s.”

Hunter’s brow bunched in surprise. It was the second time she’d said something to that effect, and he mulled over the development as the host chatted about William Wolfe’s current media holdings with Carly. She remained outwardly relaxed, her demeanor easy, but the tension in her body was palpable. And though the host’s comments were lighthearted, with every mention of her media magnate father her laughter grew more and more hollow. The audience was clearly oblivious, but the host had to sense her discomfort.

It grew worse when Brian said, “In his younger days as a newspaper reporter William Wolfe was famous for his dogged pursuit of a story. He was ruthless, even, in digging up the dirt on secret pasts and shady politicians. Your pitbull-like pursuit of Hunter, here, is reminiscent of your father.”

Behind his arm, Hunter felt Carly’s fingers grip the back of the couch tight even as he watched her face lose a trace of its color. “We are a lot alike,” she said warily.

“I imagine your dad is pretty proud?” the host said, his smile not as warm as it should have been.

Clarity hit Hunter hard. Brian O’Connor clearly knew about Carly’s dealings with State Senator Thomas Weaver. And the host was using that knowledge to his advantage—targeting Carly. Hunter’s chest slowly constricted with anger even as he fought the emotion.

It’s not your problem.

His mind scrolled through every reason he shouldn’t get involved. She’d brought public scrutiny on herself, was targeting him using her popular blog. But the biggest reason by far? He’d traded in his need to be the good guy a long time ago. In the end his commitment to Truth, Honor and Justice—and all those other values worthy of capitalization—and his tendency to protect others...none of it had saved him.

“But the real question is...” Brian’s grin radiated a double meaning for those close enough to see. “Just how far will Carly Wolfe go to get her story?”

The stunned look on Carly’s face slammed Hunter in the gut.

Sonofabitch.

* * *

Carly stared at Brian O’Connor as her blood seeped lower, her chest clenched so tight it made breathing impossible. Damn, damn and double damn. The host had done some digging and learned about the Thomas Weaver Affair. Humiliation, regret and pain blended in her veins, concocting a potent mix that burned as it traveled.

Blinking back the emotion, she struggled for a light-hearted, suitably glib comment. But somehow she didn’t think she could spin being accused of sleeping with a man for his story, or being fired from one of her father’s newspapers, in a positive light.

She was good, but she wasn’t that good.

Carly opened her mouth, struggling for something to say, but Hunter stopped her with a discreet touch of his fingers on her elbow. A protective, reassuring gesture. His posture remained relaxed, but the hint of coiled readiness always simmering beneath his demeanor was wound tighter than usual. It had been hard enough to calmly sit there after their kiss—wondering if he’d been affected at all, aware of him on every level. Now the icy blue eyes directed at their host were positively lethal, and a back-off attitude exuded from his every pore.

Hunter said, “What father wouldn’t be proud of Carly, Brian?”

“My point exactly,” the host replied, clearly refusing to back down. Both men were smiling, but the undercurrents were fierce. “She inherited the Wolfe tenacity. Wednesday’s blog post proves that much. The uproar afterwards must have made you angry.”

The host was clearly looking for more conflict—probably in an attempt to boost his ratings.

There was a brief pause before Hunter said, his voice smooth, “Not in the least.”

Carly stared at Hunter. The fact she knew that to be a lie made the statement even more outrageous.

Brian O’Connor hesitated, momentarily looking stumped, and then he narrowed his eyes slightly at Hunter, as if sensing an opportunity. “Since it didn’t bother you, perhaps you’d also be willing to share the story behind The Ditchinator?”

“Absolutely,” Hunter said.

Carly’s heart stumbled in her chest, and Brian O’Connor’s eyes zeroed in on Hunter like a laser. The switch in his focus wasn’t lost on Carly. Everything Hunter did was deliberate, and now was no exception. He’d purposefully placed himself between the host and Carly.