Page 19 of The Couple Behind the Headlines

‘Why what?’ said Jack, dazed by the intensity with which he ached to finish what he’d started with Imogen.

‘Why you aren’t seeing her again. I’ve heard she’s very pretty.’

Imogen was more than pretty. She was beautiful, contrary, fascinating and as sexy as hell, and there was no point in denying it. A wave of heat rocked through him and he shifted on the chair to ease the pressure building in his lower body. ‘She is.’

‘Then what’s wrong with her?’

Jack inwardly winced. ‘She’s just not my type,’ he muttered, thinking that Luke might be his best friend but there was no way he was about to confess how badly he’d crashed and burned.

‘Not your type? She has a pulse, doesn’t she?’

‘Ha-ha.’ Jack frowned and tried to ignore the sting of the seriously lame joke.

‘Sorry. I couldn’t resist.’

‘Well, try.’

Luke’s eyebrows shot up at the sharp tone of Jack’s voice, as well they might. Luke, who was one of the few people who knew Jack wasn’t as dissolute as he’d have everyone believe, often took the mickey. Usually it never bothered him, so why did it now?

Telling himself to get a grip, Jack shot his friend an apologetic smile. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Just knackered.’

‘No problem,’ said Luke with a quick smile of his own. ‘I shouldn’t have brought her up in the first place.’

Jack sighed and pushed his hands through his hair. ‘If you must know, I did ask her out. She turned me down.’

‘God, why?’

‘She disapproved of my reputation.’

‘I see.’ Luke nodded. Tilted his head and frowned. ‘Didn’t you set her straight?’

‘Of course.’

‘Then I don’t get it. What happened?’

Jack resisted the urge to grind his teeth. That was a billion-dollar question, and the one he’d been avoiding ever since he’d made the decision to get out of that taxi, if he was being brutally honest.

The truth of it was that he’d got spooked. He’d known that Imogen was as attracted to him as he was to her. He’d seen and heard the evidence. Hell, he’d even told her she wanted him.

But had he taken advantage of it? No. Instead, he’d opted for the easy way out, dogged by the weird sensation that Imogen was somehow dangerous. That she could very easily pose some kind of threat to his peace of mind if he got involved with her.

Which was absurd, he thought, conjuring up the image of her sitting there eyes wide and darkening with heat as he leaned in close to set her straight. The woman was as much of a threat as a marshmallow, and his overreaction had been melodramatic to say the least.

But then why wouldn’t it have been? Over the course of a matter of hours he’d had to endure agony-inducing art, been struck by the severest case of lust he’d had in a long time, had had an invitation to dinner hurled back in his face, suffered a jab to the ribs and then been accused of being arrogant and cold.

With such a battering assault on his senses was it any wonder his equilibrium had been somewhat off?

But now, however, he could see that Imogen was just one in a long line of women who’d caught his eye. She was business he badly wanted to finish, that was all.

‘I was an idiot,’ said Jack, feeling the restlessness and tension ease from his body at the burgeoning notion of pursuing and capturing Imogen.

‘So what are you going to do?’

‘Track her down.’

And when he did he’d make her acknowledge the attraction that flared between them if it was the last thing he did. He’d employ every tactic he knew—and he knew plenty—and by the time he was through with her, she’d be begging him to take her in his arms and assuage the ache he’d stir up in her.

‘How?’

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