So the guy makes a good first impression-in person, her inner voice chimed in. Big deal. Before today-heck, before fifteen minutes ago, he was the bane of her existence. Reclusive, unavailable, standoffish, arrogant-tossing his credentials around as if he were casting pearls before swine. Embarrassing her by ditching the party in his honor she’d planned. Playing coy and pitting every cosmetics firm in the country against each other. For a product that most likely didn’t even exist. There was every chance this guy was a big fat fraud.
Right. So what if he was surprisingly attractive and had a killer smile, sexy dimples and compelling eyes? Thanks to La Fleur, she had access to dozens of male models who were a hundred times more attractive than him. Of course, they were all either jerks or had significant others or were gay. But still.
Hmmm…but still…there was something about Brett Thornton that shivered a heated tingle through her-something she hadn’t felt in a very long time. And had never felt so strongly after such a short acquaintance. A tingle that made it nearly impossible to remember who he was and why she was here.
Indeed, meeting him here in this foreign city felt suspiciously like one of those precious and rare instances. A Meant-to-Be Moment. Her common sense immediately rejected the idea, but her humming libido definitely accepted it. And surely the fact that he’d been inspired by the same No Change, No Gain article as she indicated some sort of strong connection between them.
“Any chance you’d return the favor and let me take off your sunglasses?” he asked softly, pulling her from her thoughts. “You know, so I can see if there’s any gleam in your eyes?”
She knew darn well there was a gleam in her eyes-it was practically burning her retinas. A gleam that matched the glitter simmering in his. And she also knew darn well that she wanted to see what would happen when those two gleams collided. See if this really was one of those Meant-to-Be Moments. Maybe she’d been all wrong about this guy. Only one way to find out…
Leaning across the small table, she settled her weight on her forearms and said, “Be my guest.”
He reached out and slowly slid off her lenses. The tips of his fingers grazed her temples and she had to force herself not to lean into the feathery touch. The brim of her hat helped shade her eyes against the onslaught of bright sunlight, and after blinking twice, her gaze met his. And for several seconds she couldn’t seem to breathe. Could only stare while her insides performed a crazy pirouette. Okay, sure the air was thin up here at eleven thousand feet, but this was absurd.
Appreciation, along with a flare of unmistakable desire filled his eyes. “Wow,” he murmured. “I was expecting pretty, but…wow.” He cleared his throat. “In case you’re wondering, ‘wow’ is a highly scientific term meaning ‘you’re gorgeous.’”
Her heart fluttered in the most ridiculously pleased way. “Thank you.”
“Your eyes are the exact color of burning copper.”
She blinked. “Uh, thanks. I think. But my eyes are green.”
“Exactly. When copper is burned, it emits a green glow.” His lips curved into a crooked, sheepish grin. “It’s a whole laboratory, Bunsen-burner thing. Trust me…it’s a compliment.”
“In that case, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He handed her her sunglasses, and their fingers brushed, shooting a spark up her arm. In an effort to distract herself and keep from touching him to see if he’d cause another spark, she reached for her water. “So, what do you think I do for a living?”
“Magician,” he answered without hesitation.
“And you guess that because…?”
He reached out and trailed a single fingertip over the back of her hand. “You’ve cast some sort of spell on me.”
A sensual thrill zoomed through her, not only from his featherlight touch, but because he clearly felt this…whatever she was experiencing…too.
“Not a magician,” she assured him.
“Victoria’s Secret model?”
“Because you’re hoping I am?”
“No, because you’re beautiful enough to be one.”
“Are you always such a flatterer?”
“No. In fact, I’m really bad at it-you’ve clearly already forgotten how I compared your eyes to burning copper. Something for which I should be grateful.”
“Actually, I gave you points for originality.”
“Oh? Good to know.” His fingertip skimmed over her hand once again, then he leaned back in his chair and gave her a speculative look. She barely refrained from stretching out her hand toward him in a silent invitation to touch her again. “About your profession…given that you’re friendly and have no difficulties talking to people, I’d guess you’re in sales or marketing.”
She laughed. “You went from underwear model to marketing?”
“All part of the scientific method. How about talk-show hostess?”
“You were closer with marketing. I’m in public relations.”
He nodded. “Yes, that makes sense.” His grin flashed. “So, what sort of relations do you have with the public?”
Not the sort I’m suddenly fantasizing about sharing with you. “Some good, some troublesome. Some clients are easy to deal with, others require more…finesse.”
“I’m sure you’re very good at it.”
“I am,” she said, without false modesty. Because she was good at her job, and she worked damned hard. “But lately…” Her voice trailed off and she frowned, wondering why she’d continued.
“But lately what?”
She shrugged, not prepared to confide feelings she barely understood herself to a man she scarcely knew, and also unwilling to say anything that might cast a pall on their easy camaraderie. Forcing a smile, she said lightly, “Lately I’ve needed a change. Which is why I’m here.”
He raised his bottle of water. “Amen to that.”
She tapped the rim of her drink against his and took a sip, watching him tip back his head to draw a long swallow, his strong throat working, his large hand dwarfing the bottle. Good grief, he even looked good when he drank water.
When he lowered his drink, their eyes met and held, and just as before, she felt the impact of his direct, compelling gaze like a heated wallop. One that made her breath catch, but not in any way she could blame on the eleven-thousand-foot altitude.
“Which hiking tour are you taking?” he asked.
“It’s a four-day, three-night tour with Inca Trail Explorations. It departs at eight o’clock tomorrow morning.” She shot him a half smile. “I’m not sure if I’m more excited or more nervous.”
“Do you know your guide’s name?”
“Not off the top of my head, but I can easily find out.” She pulled the leather pouch where she kept all her travel documents from her tote bag, then scanned her tour itinerary. “His name is Paolo Trucero.” She looked up from the papers. “I’m hoping Paolo’s done this a thousand times before and knows what he’s doing.”
“According to my travel agent, he does.” His lips curved into a sexy, lopsided smile. “I’m on that same tour.”
She feigned surprise and experienced a sharp, unexpected jolt of self-reproach. A guilt-induced heated flush swept up her back all the way to her scalp, and she wished she’d slipped her sunglasses back on to hide her eyes to prevent him from possibly seeing the truth-that she knew damn well they were on the same tour. She wanted to look away from his warmly admiring regard which only served to heap on more guilt.
What had happened to her desire for payback? Darned if she knew. All she did know was that revenge was not among the tingly feelings this man inspired.
Would he guess the truth? Part of her almost wished he would so as to put an end to her spying mission which she found less and less palatable with each passing minute. But no hint of suspicion showed in his gaze. No, instead he was looking at her as if he’d just been given an unexpected gift. Hello, another layer of guilt.