Woman Of Innocence. Lindsay McKenna. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Lindsay McKenna
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
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if she was a bug to be flicked off because he was bothering her. Gulping, Jenny mustered her courage and swept her hand toward the tray in front of her that held her computer. “I’m not in the military,” she said, keeping her voice very low so they couldn’t be overheard. No telling who might be sitting in front, beside or behind them. Glancing around and giving everyone a suspicious look, she leaned toward Matt as he opened both his eyes and uncrossed his arms.

      “I just feel…well, really awkward about heading up this mission, Mr. Davis. I know I’m not military, and yet, Morgan wants me to interview the military pilots down there.” She gave him a frown. “Over the past two hours I’ve been putting together some questions we might ask them. I really need your input. I’m nervous about this and don’t want to mess it up.” Jenny gave a short, insecure laugh. “And believe me, I can screw things up royally. If you could just take a peek at my questions?”

      She picked up one page of handwritten questions and waved it in his direction. She saw his brows dip. He sat up and rubbed his face savagely. Jenny cowered inwardly, knowing he was tired. But in five hours they’d be landing in Lima, and she didn’t want to try and formulate her interview questions then. She’d be tired by that time!

      Matt looked at the tray in front of her. It was filled with neat piles of handwritten notes beside her laptop. Looking down, he saw at least fifteen wadded-up pieces of paper, like popcorn balls, littering the area around her small, dainty feet. Trying not to smile, he saw that she’d pushed off her practical dark brown shoes. For the flight she had dressed in a dark purple silk suit that brought out the color of her eyes and her burnished gold hair. Now he saw she had a pair of dark purple cotton socks on her feet. He’d meant to tell her how pretty she looked, especially with the dainty gold-and-amethyst earrings and matching choker, which held a teardrop-shaped amethyst pendant around her slender throat. With little effort, she looked both professional and feminine at the same time.

      “Let’s see what you’ve come up with,” he muttered.

      The male flight attendant came by and asked if they’d like anything to drink. Both said no.

      Jenny sat there chewing on her lower lip, her eyes flicking from Matt’s hard, unreadable face to his compressed mouth. He had a beautifully shaped mouth. She sighed inwardly and tried to contain the excitement and trepidation she felt as he went over her questions. Moving restlessly in the seat, she could barely contain herself.

      “Well?” she ventured, concealed fear in her tone. “I know they’re probably pretty awful, being that I’ve never been in the military….”

      Glancing at her, Matt saw the worry and anxiety written all over her oval face. Such angst in someone her age…what had set her up to respond like this? Had she been overly criticized in her family? Had her parents been perfectionists when she was a child? Even the way Jenny held herself, so erect and stiff, as if expecting a physical blow, made him scowl.

      “No…these questions are good. They’re insightful.” He tapped the paper with his index finger. “I like the fact that you’re asking questions on a human level, rather than a military one.”

      Gawking at him, her mouth fell open. “You do? You mean you like them? They aren’t awful?”

      Setting the paper down in his lap, he focused his full attention on her. “Jenny…may I call you that? Or do you prefer Ms. Wright?”

      “Er…no, call me Jenny, please. I hate standing on formality, if the truth be known….”

      Nodding, he forced a sliver of a smile for her benefit. He was finding out Laura had been right about Jenny’s ability to read body language big time. “Fine. Call me Matt, okay?”

      She nodded hesitantly. Old habits died hard. At the office, he was always Mr. Davis. Jenny never called any of the mercenaries by their first names. When she saw his mouth curve faintly, relief shot through her. Even his gray eyes warmed a bit as he looked at her. It was much easier to deal with than his focused inspection.

      “Good,” he murmured. “I need to know a little about you. About your background. That will help me to help you in formulating your base questions.”

      The sincerity in his voice shook her, and the earnestness in his slate-colored eyes warmed her to her quaking, cowardly soul. Jenny had never expected that her questions would be worthy of the interview, much less meet with Matt Davis’s approval.

      Choking, she looked at him in disbelief. “You…want to know about me?”

      With a nonchalant shrug he said, “Why not? You’re my partner on this mission.”

      “I see….”

      “You know, for all your friendliness and helpfulness, you’re a closed book.”

      Wincing, Jenny looked down at the handful of papers in her hand. “I’m afraid I haven’t led a very exciting life…Matt, and I really don’t want to bore you with my life story.”

      Such a cream puff. And a delicious one. Matt stopped himself from reaching out to stroke her hair, which looked deliciously mussed. Jenny wore no makeup and the way her blond hair fell soft and straight around her face made her look like a pixie. She looked so young. Yet he saw pain in her eyes and he wondered why. “Want to play twenty questions, then?”

      She managed a weak smile. “No, you don’t have to dig. I’ll tell you. But I warn you, you’ll probably be snoring like you were five minutes before I woke you up.”

      His brows raised. “I was snoring?”

      Chuckling shyly, Jenny said, “It wasn’t loud or anything. Your head was tipped back, was all. A person’s tongue relaxes when they sleep, and I’m sure yours was up against your windpipe, which was why you were snoring.”

      Giving her a look of respect, he said, “You’re just a font of information, aren’t you?”

      Touching her cheeks, which were heating up beneath his dark, unrelenting inspection, Jenny felt her heart beating erratically. Did the man know he could charm even the meanest snake with those eyes of his? She wanted desperately to drown in his warm gaze. Just the hint of one corner of his mouth lifting upward sent her heart soaring with unaccountable joy. When he smiled, that hard mask fell away and she got a look at the real Matt Davis. She blossomed beneath his attention, especially when he gave her that crooked smile.

      “One of my foster mothers always said I was a jack-of-all-trades and master of none,” she began ruefully in answer to his question. “I know just enough about a lot of things to be dangerous, I guess.” Waving her hands nervously, she added, “I have such a problem sticking with one thing and finishing it. I’m a Pisces, you see. My moon’s in Gemini and I have Libra rising. I’m full of air and water, and the two don’t mix very well, so I’m always at odds with myself. At least, that’s what she said.”

      Foster mother? Matt scowled at how nervous Jenny was now. He saw the worry in her eyes, and the way the corners of her soft, delicious mouth pulled in. “I don’t know much about astrology,” he admitted.

      “You’re a Scorpio!” She blurted the words before she could stop herself. Slapping a hand over her mouth, she gazed at him wide-eyed as he tilted his head and regarded her in the silence.

      “You got my birthdate from my personnel record?”

      She nodded, her stomach sinking.

      “I see.”

      Allowing her hand to drop from her lips, she said in a breathless tone, “Don’t worry. The information won’t go anywhere. I know Scorpio people want their privacy. And they don’t like people who talk about them to other people, either. They’re very, very intense. Very focused. That’s why you’re so good at being a merc. You’re a natural warrior. You know how to gauge people. Your perceptions are rarely wrong, either.”

      “I’m impressed. You almost make me sound like a good guy.” He saw her frown and then shift restlessly in the leather seat. “So what about yourself? How about your growing-up years?