Agent Bride (18 page)
Authors: Beverly Long
Hand on one hip, she turned to study him openly for a moment. “What did this woman look like?”
He described her. “Don’t pretend you don’t know her.”
“I know her
type
.” She smiled, noticeably amused. “Come on, weren’t you even a little suspicious when she hit on you? She did hit on you, right? That’s what I thought, and you fell for it. Whoever set you up must know you.”
Max laughed. Kat had lightened up, and he liked her sense of humor. “I’ll have you know, women hit on me all the time.”
She rolled her eyes. “Chalk this up as a learning experience and move on.” She started to turn away again.
“You really don’t think I’m going to let you get away with this, do you?”
She sighed and faced him once more. “What option do you have? Even if you had a shred of proof, it would be my word, the daughter of a senator, against your word, a...reporter.”
Okay, now she was ticking him off. “I happen to like what I do, and it puts food on my table.” He glanced at the photos she was working on. “Who keeps food on your table? I doubt your...hobby of taking pictures is your means of support.” He cocked his head at her. “Then again, you don’t need to stoop to having a real job, do you?”
* * *
K
AT
HAD
KNOWN
she would see Max Malone again after he’d ambushed her yesterday. He would want a story about her mother. He would use the photos he’d gotten to bargain with her. This wasn’t her first rodeo.
But she hadn’t expected him to come in the back way accusing her of stealing his camera and laptop with the photos of her mother. If she’d known how easy it would have been, she might have considered setting him up just for the fun of it, though.
No, she had expected him to come through the front door and make a scene once the gallery opened. She’d been prepared to threaten to call the police on him.
But he’d surprised her in more ways than one. Not many men did that. So she’d let him have his say, waiting to see what his game was. She’d even found the man somewhat amusing at first, but now he was starting to irritate her.
“I’ll have you know I take care of myself.”
“Is that right? You pay for that fancy SUV you drive?” He laughed. “I didn’t think so. Now about my camera—”
“If you think I’m going to replace your camera— What are you doing?” she demanded as he pulled out his cell phone and keyed in three numbers. She’d planned to
threaten
to call the police, but she wouldn’t have done it because she didn’t want the hassle or the publicity.
“Calling the cops.”
“They’ll arrest you for breaking into the gallery.” She heard the 911 operator answer. He was calling her bluff. He knew she didn’t want the police involved.
“I’d like to report—”
“Fine,” she snapped.
He said, “Sorry, my mistake,” into the phone and pocketed it again. He eyed her, waiting.
“But I don’t have your camera or your laptop.”
He studied her for a long moment. “Okay, if you want to play it that way, then what do you have to offer me?” he asked as he leaned against the counter where she’d been working.
She gritted her teeth. Hadn’t she suspected that he hadn’t really lost his camera or laptop and that he was playing her? She no longer found him amusing. It was time to call a halt to this.
“Even though I had nothing to do with the loss of your camera or laptop, I’ll write you a check for new ones just to get rid of you.”
He shook his head slowly, his gaze lingering on her long enough that she could feel heat color her cheeks. He made her feel naked, as if he could see her the way no one else could. “
My
camera,
my
laptop,
my
photos. That’s the only deal on the table, unless you have something more to offer.”
“I just offered you money!”
He shook his head, his gaze warm on her.
She felt her cheeks flush as she realized what he was suggesting. “I have
nothing
more to offer you.”
He raised a brow, shoved off the counter and closed the distance between them. “Either I get my camera back, or you’re going to have to make it up to me in another way.” He was close, too close, but it wasn’t fear he evoked. She could smell the scent of freshly showered soap on him. Her gaze went from his blue eyes to his lips and the slight smirk there. The man was so cocky, so arrogant, so sure of the effect he was having on her.
As he brushed his fingertips over her cheek, she felt a tingle before she slapped his hand away. “If you think I’m going to sleep with you—”
“I said something that I would like
better
,” he said.
Better than sleeping with her? “You really are a bastard.”
He shook his head. “Untrue. Both my parents were married and to each other.”
“You’re enjoying this.”
His smile belied his words. “It’s purely business, I assure you. But I appreciate you considering sleeping with me.”
She fought the urge to slap his handsome face. “I never—”
“I’m sure you have never,” he said. “But we can deal with that later. Right now, I suggest we discuss this over breakfast. I’m starved.” He moved away, finally giving her breathing room. “You’re buying.”
“I don’t think so.” She was trembling inside, her stomach doing slow somersaults. The man threw her off balance, and he knew it. That made it even worse. She took a couple of deep breaths, shocked that some reporter could get this kind of primitive response from her.
Finally she turned to face him. He was going through her photos with an apparent critical eye. She wanted to grab them from him. The last thing she needed was a critique from him about her art.
“Call the police.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “If you think you can blackmail me—”
“These are good, really,” he said, turning to look at her as if surprised. “You have a good eye.”
She hated how pleased she was, but quickly mentally shook herself. What did he know about photography anyway? Just because he carried around a camera and took underhanded snapshots of people who didn’t want their photos taken...
“I’d hoped we could discuss this over pancakes,” he said as he stepped away from her photos. “I know something about your mother that you’re going to want to hear before you see it in the media.”
“There is nothing you can tell me that I would—”
“Your mother isn’t just lying about the past twenty-two years. She’s been lying since the get-go, and I can prove it.” He smiled. “But first I want breakfast. I’m starved.”
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Agent Bride
Copyright © 2015 by Beverly R. Long
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