Page 19 of Kiss Me Forever

"Do you think about the impact your stories might have on someone's life?"

"I always think about the impact. I want to write articles that encourage people to think, that inspire change, that make a difference. If I didn't want to make an impact, I wouldn't be a very good reporter."

"Sometimes reporters cross ethical lines."

"I've never done that."

"Maybe you've never had to make that choice."

She thought about that. "I suppose that's possible."

"If you're so interested in covering stories that make a difference to the world, then you're definitely wasting your time with me."

"You're an important man, not only because of your business but also because of your philanthropy. You are making a difference in the world, and that's the side of you I want to focus on, so you really don't have to keep trying to impress me with your celebrity lifestyle."

"Do you think that's what I'm doing?"

"I'm pretty sure," she said, tightening her grip on the rail as the boat took another serious dive. "Oh, my God, this is crazy."

"Don't look at the water, look at me," he ordered.

It wasn't that easy to tear her gaze away from the sea, but she finally managed to focus on his face, on his beautiful green eyes. He really was a gorgeous man, she thought, especially now with his dark hair damp from the sea breeze, his eyes sparkling, and his skin reddened by the sun and the wind. He was in his element, and she was—not. She hated to be at a disadvantage, but there was no denying that's exactly where she was now.

"Better?" he asked.

"Not really."

"You need a distraction." His hand slid from her shoulder to her waist, as he moved around in front of her.

She couldn't step away from him without taking her hands off the rail and that was not an option.

He gave her a warm smile. "You're a beautiful woman, Andrea."

"And you are a charming liar."

"You should learn how to take a compliment."

"I'm a mess," she protested.

"That's not what I see."

"Well, then you're blind. And I don't believe this sudden interest in me. I am not your type."

"What do you think is my type?" he asked curiously.

"Blonde, big breasts, fun to party with, and not looking for anything serious—kind of like at least six of the women downstairs. Tell me I'm wrong."

"You are blonde," he said, his grin broadening.

If she hadn't been so determined to hang on to the rail, she might have instinctively put her arms across her breasts, because Alex's curious gaze had dropped to her chest, and at his look, a shiver went down her spine.

Then he lifted his gaze to hers. He shifted his weight, moving a little closer, until there wasn't much more than a breath between them.

"What—what are you doing?" she asked, feeling both shock and anticipation.

"I'm thinking about kissing you."

"Why?"

---