Page 16 of The VIP Doubles Down
His chuckle was a dark, rich rumble. “I like you. You’ve got attitude.”
Another wash of ridiculous gratification flowed through her. “So what’s your favorite kind of music?”
“I like a good Gregorian chant.”
“You listen to monks singing in Latin? I was expecting you to say Beethoven.” She wanted to bite her tongue when she realized that it was his character Julian Best who listened to classical music. She saw him shift under the blanket. “So what’s the hot new group on the Gregorian chant charts?” she asked to cover her blunder.
“Why did you think I would choose Beethoven?” His tone left no doubt that he expected an honest answer.
She wasn’t going to give him one. “You’re an intellectual New Yorker. They tend to like classical music.”
There was more movement under the blanket as he pushed himself up from the table, turning his head so she could see the anger stiffening his jaw. “You were thinking of Julian Best.”
“Does he like Beethoven? I don’t remember that. Please lie down.”
Gavin turned onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. The blanket hung over his shoulder but didn’t cover his torso with its line of dark hair arrowing down to disappear under his jeans. Allie tried to meet his gaze, but that was worse than being attracted by his body. She moved to the stim unit and pretended to check the dials. “Should I turn the current down?”
“You are not a good liar, Ms.Nichols. You were confusing me with my fictional spy.”
Allie admitted defeat and faced him again. “Don’t writers put their own experiences in their books?”
“And their aspirations. Not to mention their nightmares.” He seemed to be trying to hypnotize her with his eyes. “Julian’s preference in music is only mentioned once.”
She nodded. “InBest Laid Plans.”
“Just how well do you know the Julian Best novels?”
“My mama and I talked about them a lot. They have much more depth than most thrillers.” And she considered Julian her book boyfriend. “We even made up some stories of our own about Julian.”
Gavin swung his legs over the edge of the table and sat upright, the blanket cascading onto the floor behind him. “What is Julian’s favorite food?”
“I can only remember appetizers.” She was trying to keep her mind on the conversation and not on the swell of his biceps. “When he’s with Samantha Dubois, he orders caviar as a starter, but otherwise he always begins with steak tartare.”
“What sport does he watch?”
“Ice hockey. He played when he was in college.”
“What car does he drive?”
“Trick question. Anything with a big engine and good cornering. He doesn’t care about cars.” She smiled. “But when it comes to aircraft, he’s picky. He likes a Citation Encore jet or an AW109 helicopter. You know, you should really lie down. The electrical stim doesn’t work as well if you’re using the muscles it’s working on.”
He didn’t move. “Did Jane know you’re a Julian Best fan before she hired you?”
Gavin’s suspicions lessened as genuine bafflement clouded Allie’s gray eyes.
“No,” the physical therapist said. “How would she find that out?”
“By asking.” He let a little smile twist his mouth. “Jane’s a mastermind. She might have been trying two kinds of therapy.”
Allie twined her hands together. “She told me not to bring up anything at all about writing.”
“She’s trying to protect my fragile muse.”
“You’re lucky to have someone who worries about you,” Allie said.
He tried to read her face. It seemed so open, but he was beginning to wonder if she wore her country-girl persona as a mask. “You say that as though you don’t.”
“Could we please get back to your treatment? You need to lie down again.”
