Page 12 of Only for the Moment
Isaac arched a perfect blond brow. “For…?”
“For my…behavior…thismorning.” She glanced up from under her eyelashes, just a peek, but couldn’t read his expression. “At the spa.”
“Why?”
Why?“Because it was unprofessional.”
“And you’re always professional, I take it.”
“Of course.” That was the only way to stay ahead of her competition, to push herself, to meet her goals.
The quirk of Isaac’s lip said that sounded incredibly boring. She had to agree. Notthat she planned to tell him that.
“You know…” He planted an elbow on the table, leaning in, his height allowing him to create an intimacy that chipped away at her armor. “I’m not used to being ignored.”
Ignored? She couldn’t ignore him if she tried. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I told you I prefer Kennedy to Ms. O’Connell. I prefer you honest and open, not buttoned-up and stiff. And you’reignoring that request.”
She preferred being herself with him too, which was why she desperately needed to avoid it. “But the buttoned-up professional has a job to do,” she reminded him—and herself.
“Do it tomorrow.” His smile was genuine, showing her how he wanted them to be. “For now, have dinner with me. Just Isaac and Kennedy, not Mr. Rock Star and Ms. Professional.”
Did she dare?
Don’tyou want to please your client?
Sure. Right. Because that was the only reason she wanted to drop her guard with him.
Grimacing at the internal tug-of-war that probably wouldn’t stop anytime soon, she braced her shoulders. “I still need to apologize. I should’ve left as soon as I realized the room was occupied. I’m sorry.”
“Why didn’t you?”
She glanced down at her hands twisting in her lap.
“Kennedy.”
The command in that tone had her meeting his eyes despite her inner protests. Isaac extended a hand to her, palm up. She stared at it, a serpent tempting her in ways she knew she should avoid. And yet, she couldn’t—and she didn’t understand why.
Once her palm was secure in his grip, he continued, those light eyes drilling into her, daring her to speak the truth. “Why didn’t you leavewhen you saw me on the massage table?”
“Because I couldn’t. I—”
“Why not?”
Those two words added pounds of pressure to the already boiling cauldron inside her—and that just made her mad. “Because I couldn’t stop staring,” she finally snapped. Isaac wasn’t offended if the rumbly laugh that left him was any indication. She tossed her head, both at herself and him, then rolled her eyes. “I guessyou get that a lot.”
“From where I’m sitting”—he squeezed her hand—“I’m thinking the same is probably true of you, beautiful. No man would be anything less than flattered to have your attention. I know I am.”
Their food came, and his hand slid from hers. Was it her imagination, or did he seem reluctant to let go? She was. The realization made her dig in to her pasta with more gusto than necessary,anything to distract her from the feel of his fingers so strong around hers. Imagining them in other, more private places, places a guest should not have access to.
But oh, she wished he did.
All the more reason to shut those feelings down quick. “So…favorite hobby?”
Isaac forked up a bite of fluffy baked potato, a grin tugging at his firm lips. “Is this a standard questionnaire or the specialone, for special guests?”
“Oh, definitely for the most special of guests.” She shot him her own grin. “Come on, Isaac. You wanted to rest while you’re here. I know enough about your accomplishments the past few years and how the music world works to know you probably don’t take days off. There’s always something going on. It’s my job to give you a break from all that. How am I supposed to helpyou relax if I don’t know anything about what you like to do for fun? Favorite hobby,” she demanded.
