Page 39 of He Has Charm

“No desert for me.”

“I had a feeling you would say that. Too bad.” He gives me a wistful smile and my face heats up and I’m not sure if it’s lust-inspired because of the crinkles at the corners of those baby blues telling me he’s sincere or if it’s his flirtatious behavior getting to me and making me mad as hell at myself.

Either way, he interrupts me like he has a right, like I’m the one who’s being unreasonable and crazy, putting his hand on mine.

The warmth of his hand instantly electrifies my nerves and I flinch, but I resist pulling it away to avoid added attention, trying to breathe normally. Shit I wish he didn’t affect me this way. Liar, you love it. Shit, I hate when my conscience is right.

“We’re among friends, Harper. You can relax.” His voice is like low velvet, placating and reasonable and instantly puts everyone at ease. Everyone at the table except me. I try nodding toward where I spotted Nora, but either he doesn’t notice or he thinks I’m having muscle spasms in my neck.

My nerves escalate to high alert, so I try slipping my hand from under his, slowly so no one—namely Nora—will notice. But he clamps down and that true smile of pleasure returns.

The beautiful jerk is enjoying making me squirm. I yank my hand free and nudge him with my knee under the table. Hard. He raises his brow at me while the others talk about their meal choices, then leans in to whisper for my ears only in that low sexy growly voice that reminds me of porn videos, of his porn video. Do not think of his video now. Do not recall those images… Fuck.

“You seem uptight, Harper. Anything I can do to help ease your—?”

“No. Nothing at all.” I slide my eyes to Nora’s table and nod my head again. Luckily she’s talking to her server and not looking our way. “In fact the less you do the better. Pretend I’m not here. Pretend you’re sitting next to an empty space, like I’m invisible, like—”

He chuckles and the deep resonance of the sound so close to my ear makes me shiver. Shit. I should know better than to ramble because it always seems to set him off. I bite my tongue.

“You are a bundle of nerves, aren’t you? Too bad my magical cure for nerves is off-limits.” I meet his eyes and open my mouth to spout all the reasons why he’s off-limits, but stop myself. I shut my mouth and shut down my almost-ramble. His smile has a hint of pride in it.

“Your self-control is admirable.” He picks up his glass of ice water, takes a sip and I’m mesmerized by his Adam’s apple bobbing in his manly muscled throat, the tendons tight and his skin lightly stubbled. I want to lick him, run my tongue from his lips down over his perfect chin and down his throat and… shit, shit, shit. He puts his water down and turns back to me, lowering his head. “I only hope my self-control holds out if you’re going to look at me that way.”

My heart thuds and his words shock me into panicked poise, the extreme kind of officious behavior, and I back away from him, clamp my mouth shut without a hint of a smile and clamp my thighs tight together as if that’s going to stop anything. I dart a glance at Nora. She’s still not paying any attention to us. Maybe I’m being paranoid about her being here. This is a happening restaurant. Maybe she’s here for the food, to meet a date.

When the server returns for our drink order, Maddox orders one house special bourbon drink of the night and I don’t complain or object. In fact, I’m grateful. Because I’m going to be the one drinking it.

“Exactly what I need,” I say half to myself. But he hears me. Of course.

“Then it’s yours.”

“Thank you,” I say with reflexive politeness.

He nods in acknowledgment and when the drinks arrive, he gives me his drink, giving me one of those long stares with all kinds of heart-fluttering meaning behind it as if we’re on a real date. At least that’s how my flipping belly interprets it when the rest of me knows better. Or I should know better because I’m smart enough.

Also, that’s likely why Nora Olak decides to pop her camera and take some pics that I don’t notice until Rafe scowls and points in her direction. So her ending up at the same restaurant at the same time sitting at a nearby table isn’t coincidence after all. Shit.

Maddox turns and backs away from me and I glance around to look at her. The nervy reporter waves at me.

Remembering my professional hat, I straighten and nod. Then my mind goes into full damage control mode. I say to Knight under my breath, “I’m going to have to talk to her, see what she’s up to. We can’t have even the whiff of rumors about you—”

“Or you,” he says. “I’ll talk to her.” I look at him, schooling my features to keep my alarm from showing.

“No,” I say with quiet force.

“What’s Nora doing?” Zoey says. “Why is she taking our picture at dinner? I thought she was a legitimate sports reporter, not one of those gossips.”

“Why is she even here?” Rafe asks.

O’Rourke glances between me and Maddox. “Either of you have a theory?”

“She asked about my handler,” Maddox tilts his head in my direction, “at tonight’s postgame press conference.”

“What the hell for? What’s her angle?” O’Rourke asks. The others look equally puzzled and say so, but I have an inkling and I think Maddox does too. Fear bubbles up and I need to voice it to dispel it.

“I think she’s out to get a scandal story, to piggyback onto the porn-video, bad-boy scandal and add a player-agent affair scandal to stir up the pot and grab attention.” Everyone stares at me, concern and acknowledgment that I could be right, shows on their faces.

“Fucking hell,” Maddox mutters. “But we’re not going to let her make anything of that, are we?”