hook."
"I typically go to the gym in the evening." He leaned forward, sending the barest hint of musky cologne her way. "But if you're going to be there every day during lunch, maybe I'll change my schedule."
He lifted his eyebrow, waiting for her response. This was her cue—was she interested? A thrill zipped over her thighs. There was something very sexy about a man who made his intentions known right up front. He was attracted to her.
"Don't you want to see how lunch goes?" she asked mildly.
"I already know it's going to go well." His voice held no hint of cockiness, just quiet confidence. It suited him. And it made her feel daring.
The waitress brought ice water and said she'd be back to take their order. Belinda sipped the water gratefully to douse the sudden hike in her temperature. "Any suggestions?" she asked as she scanned the menu.
Julian grinned. "How adventurous are you?"
His playful mood was contagious. "I'm feeling rather brave today."
"Then let's share an order of spicy basil leaves and shrimp."
"That's not exactly Southern comfort food."
His knee bumped hers. "Comfort is highly overrated."
A very grown-up feeling traveled her spine. He wanted to have an affair. It was surreal, this mundane conversation resonating with sensuality. A hum of awareness traveled over her nerve endings. So this was how people did it—made the leap from acquaintance to lover without the bother of small talk and small encounters in between. What sounded lewd in the pages of women's magazines now seemed like a perfectly natural occurrence unfolding between two consenting adults.
"Or," he said lightly, "we could always play it safe and order chicken fried rice."
The waitress returned with her pad in hand. "Are you ready to order?"
One side of his mouth crept up as his gaze bore into hers. "Belinda?"
Her mouth watered, and it wasn't from the talk of food. She'd broken the rules once this week, and she was getting a promotion out of it. If she broke her "men are unnecessary" rule, who knew what exciting things might happen?
She spoke to the waitress but didn't take her eyes off Julian. "We're going to split the spicy basil leaves and shrimp."
"That's a very hot dish," the waitress warned.
"Yes, we know," Julian said, his smoldering gaze locked with Belinda's.
The waitress walked away, and he leaned forward on his elbows. "I'm pleased that you agreed to meet me. I was afraid that Lieutenant Alexander would talk about me behind my back."
She tried not to register surprise. "Why would you think that?"
He shrugged. "Alexander and I aren't the best of friends."
"How do you know each other?"
"Through our jobs. I've been involved in a couple of police matters. He and I clashed."
"I thought maybe that's what had happened. You'll have to forgive me—I'm too new in town to connect your name with a particular newspaper or television station."
His smile returned. "I work for a television station and a radio station, but I'm behind the scenes at the TV station."
"And on the radio?" She wracked her brains for the call letters to the all-news stations so she could sound halfway informed.
"Well, even if you heard me on the radio, you wouldn't connect my name—I use a different on-air name."
"What is it?"
"I'm a traffic reporter, Talkin' Tom Trainer on MIXX 100 FM."
She went completely still. "No."
He grinned. "Yes."
"I don't believe this—I know you!"
"No kidding?"
She nodded, her mouth half-open. "I listen to you every day." She laughed, unable to believe the coincidence. "But your accent... it sounds different."
His cheeks turned pink. "The on-air voice goes with the good-ole-boy on-air persona."
She nodded, noting the resemblance in his voice and the voice she was accustomed to hearing on the radio. No wonder when she'd first met him she'd had the feeling that she'd known him from somewhere—it wasn't his face she'd recognized but his voice. "This is amazing." She brought her hand to her mouth. "Oh, my God. No
"I typically go to the gym in the evening." He leaned forward, sending the barest hint of musky cologne her way. "But if you're going to be there every day during lunch, maybe I'll change my schedule."
He lifted his eyebrow, waiting for her response. This was her cue—was she interested? A thrill zipped over her thighs. There was something very sexy about a man who made his intentions known right up front. He was attracted to her.
"Don't you want to see how lunch goes?" she asked mildly.
"I already know it's going to go well." His voice held no hint of cockiness, just quiet confidence. It suited him. And it made her feel daring.
The waitress brought ice water and said she'd be back to take their order. Belinda sipped the water gratefully to douse the sudden hike in her temperature. "Any suggestions?" she asked as she scanned the menu.
Julian grinned. "How adventurous are you?"
His playful mood was contagious. "I'm feeling rather brave today."
"Then let's share an order of spicy basil leaves and shrimp."
"That's not exactly Southern comfort food."
His knee bumped hers. "Comfort is highly overrated."
A very grown-up feeling traveled her spine. He wanted to have an affair. It was surreal, this mundane conversation resonating with sensuality. A hum of awareness traveled over her nerve endings. So this was how people did it—made the leap from acquaintance to lover without the bother of small talk and small encounters in between. What sounded lewd in the pages of women's magazines now seemed like a perfectly natural occurrence unfolding between two consenting adults.
"Or," he said lightly, "we could always play it safe and order chicken fried rice."
The waitress returned with her pad in hand. "Are you ready to order?"
One side of his mouth crept up as his gaze bore into hers. "Belinda?"
Her mouth watered, and it wasn't from the talk of food. She'd broken the rules once this week, and she was getting a promotion out of it. If she broke her "men are unnecessary" rule, who knew what exciting things might happen?
She spoke to the waitress but didn't take her eyes off Julian. "We're going to split the spicy basil leaves and shrimp."
"That's a very hot dish," the waitress warned.
"Yes, we know," Julian said, his smoldering gaze locked with Belinda's.
The waitress walked away, and he leaned forward on his elbows. "I'm pleased that you agreed to meet me. I was afraid that Lieutenant Alexander would talk about me behind my back."
She tried not to register surprise. "Why would you think that?"
He shrugged. "Alexander and I aren't the best of friends."
"How do you know each other?"
"Through our jobs. I've been involved in a couple of police matters. He and I clashed."
"I thought maybe that's what had happened. You'll have to forgive me—I'm too new in town to connect your name with a particular newspaper or television station."
His smile returned. "I work for a television station and a radio station, but I'm behind the scenes at the TV station."
"And on the radio?" She wracked her brains for the call letters to the all-news stations so she could sound halfway informed.
"Well, even if you heard me on the radio, you wouldn't connect my name—I use a different on-air name."
"What is it?"
"I'm a traffic reporter, Talkin' Tom Trainer on MIXX 100 FM."
She went completely still. "No."
He grinned. "Yes."
"I don't believe this—I know you!"
"No kidding?"
She nodded, her mouth half-open. "I listen to you every day." She laughed, unable to believe the coincidence. "But your accent... it sounds different."
His cheeks turned pink. "The on-air voice goes with the good-ole-boy on-air persona."
She nodded, noting the resemblance in his voice and the voice she was accustomed to hearing on the radio. No wonder when she'd first met him she'd had the feeling that she'd known him from somewhere—it wasn't his face she'd recognized but his voice. "This is amazing." She brought her hand to her mouth. "Oh, my God. No
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