“Yeah?” She smiled back, words deserting her. Unusual for her. But there was something about this man…
“But…” He held up a finger as if admonishing a naughty child. Even his hands were noteworthy. Tan, with lean fingers and evenly clipped nails. No prissy manicure.
“I’m listening.” Barely. Her stomach was just beginning to calm down.
“I still have veto power.”
“Of course.” Her gaze went again to his hands, to that perfect golden color, so perfect it had to be artificial.
He squinted with suspicion. “What?”
“Are you tanned all over?”
His head reared back slightly.
“That’s strictly a professional question,” Madison said, and pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at his appalled expression.
She didn’t get her answer. The waitress reappeared to see if they wanted another round, and to ask for his autograph on behalf of a woman seated behind Madison. Jack turned down another scotch, smiled graciously and took the pen and napkin from the waitress.
Madison studied his bent head as he signed his name. The highlights were natural, she decided, probably from the sun. His hair was already getting darker consistent with the fall weather that restricted outdoor activity. Just like her, in fact. She was always blonder in the summer. Except the sun wasn’t as creative or kind to her.
He looked up and met her eyes.
She smiled. “I’d hate this.”
“What?” He handed the napkin and pen back to the waitress who promptly disappeared.
“Being recognized, the intrusions…But I guess it comes with the territory.”
“So they tell me,” he said flatly, and then smiled briefly at someone over Madison’s shoulder. Then, barely moving his lips, he said, “Can we please get out of here?”
“Sure.” Madison grabbed her blazer and the camera bag she used as a purse. “Just let me get the check.”
He pulled some bills out of his pocket secured by a brushed-gold money clip. “Did you have more than the one club soda?”
“No, but I want to—”
He laid down three twenties. “That should take care of it.”
“No, this is on me. Besides, that’s way too much.”
He laughed humorlessly and stood. “The price of celebrity. Let’s go. Now.”
She realized what he’d meant as soon as she stood. The redhead, wearing a short white spandex dress with more cleavage than good taste, approached the table. Jack smiled at her, tossed his coat over his shoulder and then took Madison by the elbow to hurry her along.
“Mr. Logan, I wanted to thank you personally for the autograph.” The woman smiled, flashing a set of superwhite teeth. “I truly hated to bother you.”
“No bother.” He stopped but his grip on Madison’s elbow tightened. “Sorry, but we’re in a hurry.”
“Of course.” The woman gave Madison an odd look, which took her a full twenty seconds to interpret as envy while Jack rushed her out of the intimate bar.
By the time they got to the lobby, she’d nearly hemorrhaged from trying not to laugh. Imagine anyone thinking she was with Jack Logan. What a hoot! Wait till she told Karrie and Talia.
“Are you really in a hurry, or was that a smoke screen?” she asked, turning to face him. He was tall but so was she, and standing so close, his incredible face only inches away, well, it literally took her breath away. She inhaled deeply, hopefully not conspicuously. “I’d like to show you some of the places I think would make great shots.”
His lips curved slightly and then he glanced at his watch. “My driver is picking me up in half an hour.”
“Great. We’ll make it a quickie.” To her horror, heat crept into her cheeks. Which was totally insane. She never blushed. “Oh, there’s Kit. She’s in charge of the hotel PR. Let me catch her and get a key.”
Madison took off in the woman’s direction. This was bad. Really bad. Madison moistened her dry lips. Swallowed hard. No, it was good. If she reacted this way to him, millions of women out there would be drooling over his pictures. Over the cover. And let’s face it, if she couldn’t snag that cover with him as her subject, she might as well hang up her camera.
Her heart started to race, but this time it wasn’t because of a pair of incredible hazel eyes and a killer grin. She could see her star rising.
JACK GOT OUT HIS CELL PHONE and called Dutch and told him to give him another hour before he picked him up. The network provided a car and driver. It was in Jack’s contract. One of many great perks that came with the job, he reminded himself. This photo-shoot nonsense was a trade-off. The sooner he got it over with, the better.
It could be worse. At least Madison Tate was a pleasant surprise. She was attractive enough, but it wasn’t that. As Larry had warned, there was something compelling about her, some quality that made you want to go along for the ride. Maybe it was her refreshing frankness, or that she wasn’t coy or flirtatious. He admired that she had a goal and kept her eyes on the ball. Too bad he was her short-term goal.
He saw her come from the direction of the front desk, and she smiled and held up a key, earning them a second look from a couple waiting for the elevator. He nearly choked wondering if she even knew what that looked like.
“I want to show you the rooftop garden for starters,” she said, briskly walking past him, obviously expecting him to follow. “And the pool and spa, and two of the suites that I think would be great possibilities. I’ll need to take quite a few shots, of course, and then narrow them down to five. So I’d like to widen our scope and—”
She stopped abruptly and looked over at him. “I know you’re in a hurry so I’m trying to make this quick.”
“Fine.”
“Okay.” She took the lead again, and he noticed that she had a slight sway to her hips that was totally unexpected. “We’ll start with one of the penthouse suites and the garden, and then work our way down until it’s time for you to go.”
“Fine.” He wished she’d lose the jacket. Give him a clear view of her behind.
“I’m kind of leaning toward spots where we can use the city as a backdrop. Obviously the rooftop garden is perfect but so are the suites and spa because they have views of Midtown or the skyline along the river.”
“Fine.” He had no doubt she had great legs. Long and lean, and her jeans were short enough that he could see her slim ankles. Generally a good sign.
She stopped again. “Could we have a little more enthusiasm here?”
“I beg your pardon.”
“Attitude is great for photographs but right now we need to get down to business,” she said, and then looked as if she wished she hadn’t. Drawing in her lower lip, she glanced away. “Sorry.”
Jack’s sparked temper subsided. Not just because of the apology. Or the sexy way she played with her lip. He’d allowed himself to be distracted and lost the thread of the conversation. “I’m sorry,” he said. “My mind wandered.”
She smiled, shrugged a shoulder. “Just give me a nudge if I’m making you yawn.”
He smiled back and they said nothing until they’d gotten into the elevator and arrived at the roof. He held the cab door and waited for her to precede him. Before he stepped out, a fusion of fragrances reached him. Apparently, a small thing like winter hadn’t interrupted the Hush garden.
A retractable glass roof that hadn’t