Page 13 of Here Comes Trouble
‘Wow, the light fixtures here are amazing,’ Jess said, staring at it in wonder.
‘Pretty cool, huh?’ Xander said, stopping next to her to admire it too. ‘Roberto, who owns this place, made it. He’s sickeningly talented.’
He was standing so close to her she caught another waft of his amazing citrusy scent, which sent an energised prickle right up her spine.
‘How kind of him to let you use his place,’ she said, taking a careful step into the room, away from him.
‘Yeah, he’s a really generous guy. We worked on a couple of projects together a few years back, before we both started getting successful. He lets friends come and stay here when they need to escape for a bit.’
‘So you’re escaping right now?’ she asked, turning back to look at him.
His expression closed over. ‘I need a bit of space to concentrate on producing work for a new exhibition, away from the din of the city.’
‘And away from the temptation of all those parties?’ she asked, raising a playful eyebrow, hoping he’d bite and give her a bit of gossipy goodness that she could incorporate into her article.
‘Oh, I don’t know. I’m sure I can find a party round here if I really want to,’ he said, moving his shoulder in a circular motion as if trying to relieve a trapped nerve.
‘Have you hurt your shoulder?’ she asked.
‘Nah, I’m just a bit tense from being bent over drawing today. Why, are you offering to rub it for me?’ he flipped her a provocative grin.
‘You don’t want me giving you a massage, I’m terrible at it,’ she said, nervously tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, then flipping it back out again to rejoin the rest of her bob. She had a horrible urge to hide her face from him. He was so perplexing with his ability to suddenly switch the conversation from something innocuous into something sexy.
He gave her a questioning frown. ‘I don’t believe it. How can you be terrible at giving massages?’
She shrugged. ‘It’s just not something I count as one of my talents.’
‘Hmm,’ he was looking at her with such an intense, searching stare it made her insides twist.
She wasn’t used to dealing with such overt flirtatiousness. The men she’d dated in the past had been attractive guys, but nothing like the unwieldy package of sexual energy that Xander Heaton embodied. He was something else entirely.
Walking past her, he pulled out a chair from the table and gestured for her to sit down.
She nodded her thanks and perched herself on the edge of the leather-upholstered chair, folding her hands on the table top and kicking off her shoes so she could flex her aching feet under the table. She watched as he pulled out the seat opposite and dropped into it with a sigh.
‘I’m curious. Why don’t you give interviews any more?’ she said, hoping that if she just kept firing random questions at him, he’d eventually give her some straight answers.
He leant back in his chair and smoothed the front of his shirt down with long, tanned fingers.
Jess watched the movement, fascinated by the simple beauty of his hands, noting how his fingernails were dark-rimmed with ingrained paint. There was something lovely about how his hands reflected exactly who he was.
‘I’ve had some bad experiences with the press twisting things I’ve said. They take things out of context and make me sound like an idiot.’ He leaned forwards in his chair. ‘And I prefer to keep my private life just that – private,’ he said, giving her a knowing smile and stretching out his legs under the table, his foot bumping gently against hers. ‘But I’m sure I can trust you to give me a fair write-up, Jess, especially as I have the power to make you look ridiculous too. You don’t want your “bad hair day” captured for eternity and put up to hang in a gallery somewhere, do you?’
She felt lightheaded with fear at the thought.
‘You wouldn’t do that.’ The shake in her voice made it clear she totally believed he would.
He laughed. ‘Of course not. I’m only joking. I promise to be true to your character.’
She nodded slowly. ‘Okay, well, I guess I’m going to have to trust you.’
Speaking of which…
‘So what happened last year to kill your muse?’ she asked as casually as she could, glancing up at him through her lashes in the hope he’d answer without thinking.
He gave her such a hard stare she shrank back into her seat under the force of it.
Okay, so it wasn’t the most professional way to conduct the interview, but then again, she had nothing to lose by throwing out provocative questions. In fact, if she was going to get something juicy enough to satisfy Pamela she was going to have to push the boat right out into enemy waters.
