said, the words at odds with his dry and distinctly nonapologetic tone.
“You didn’t. I just closed my eyes to . . . think. It helps me concentrate.” Ignoring the silent, sardonic lift of one dark brow, she glanced at the roses. “Are those supposed to soften me up?”
“Would it work?”
“Definitely not.”
“Then no. Actually, they’re more of a ruse. May I come in?”
She wanted to say no, but she knew the newsroom staff well enough to know that the arrival of an attractive man bearing roses, lots and lots of roses, would have them already craning and straining to see and hear as much as they could. Since her goal was to reveal as little about her dealing with Hazard as possible, she reluctantly waved him in.
“How did you get past the security desk?”
“I told the guard it was the six-month anniversary of the day we met and that I wanted to present you with a suitable token of my affection. Hence a hundred and eighty roses.”
She quickly did the math. “One for every day of the six months. How wildly romantic of you.”
“The guard thought so too. Turns out he’s a sucker for romance. He said you’re a very nice lady and that he couldn’t remember you ever getting flowers at work before. I think pity may have factored into his decision to allow me in unannounced so I could surprise you.” He held the monster bouquet out to her with a faintly mocking expression. “Surprise.”
“It certainly is,” she said, folding her arms across her chest in a show of nonchalance. Inside she was bristling. So she never got flowers at work. Big deal. That was no reason for some busybody guard to go discussing her floral history with a complete stranger. “But you know what’s even more surprising? The fact that you would throw away whatever a hundred and eighty long-stem roses cost these days on a stupid ruse.”
He shrugged. “It worked. I’m standing here instead of being relegated to a few hurried moments of your time in the lobby. Educated guess,” he offered in response to her quick look of surprise. “Although it would help if I actually could read your mind. Then I’d know if the roses also succeeded in underscoring the point that when it comes to getting what I want, money is of no consequence.”
“Consider it underscored.”
“Good.”
“And in the interest of expediency, you should know that when it comes to refusing to sell the pendant to you, money is even less of a factor now than it was last night.”
It was Hazard’s turn to be surprised.
“Duly noted,” he murmured, glancing around for a place to put the flowers and settling on the top of the small file cabinet in the corner. “Although expediency doesn’t matter to me nearly as much as results.”
“Well, it matters to me. I get paid to report the news. And since money is very much of consequence when it comes time to pay my bills, I should get back to earning it.”
“I promise not to take too much of your time,” he told her, settling himself all comfylike against the deep window ledge, one leg hitched up so that his coat fell open, revealing a white shirt open at the throat and loosely tucked into a pair of impeccably tailored black slacks.
He seemed bigger than she remembered, his shoulders broader, his thigh distractingly well muscled. And with the morning sun slanting across his face, he also seemed harder somehow. It wasn’t a matter of lines or creases, but attitude. He might be younger than she was, but she’d bet he’d packed a lot more living into his years.
“So, what’s changed since last night?” he asked.
“I’ve learned a few things about the pendant that I didn’t know. When I got home, I showed it to my grandmother and she recognized it right away.”
His expression didn’t change, but the wariness that flickered in his eyes wasn’t lost on Eve. “Recognized it in what way?”
“From an old painting of one of our ancestors in Ireland,” she told him, filtering the details she
“You didn’t. I just closed my eyes to . . . think. It helps me concentrate.” Ignoring the silent, sardonic lift of one dark brow, she glanced at the roses. “Are those supposed to soften me up?”
“Would it work?”
“Definitely not.”
“Then no. Actually, they’re more of a ruse. May I come in?”
She wanted to say no, but she knew the newsroom staff well enough to know that the arrival of an attractive man bearing roses, lots and lots of roses, would have them already craning and straining to see and hear as much as they could. Since her goal was to reveal as little about her dealing with Hazard as possible, she reluctantly waved him in.
“How did you get past the security desk?”
“I told the guard it was the six-month anniversary of the day we met and that I wanted to present you with a suitable token of my affection. Hence a hundred and eighty roses.”
She quickly did the math. “One for every day of the six months. How wildly romantic of you.”
“The guard thought so too. Turns out he’s a sucker for romance. He said you’re a very nice lady and that he couldn’t remember you ever getting flowers at work before. I think pity may have factored into his decision to allow me in unannounced so I could surprise you.” He held the monster bouquet out to her with a faintly mocking expression. “Surprise.”
“It certainly is,” she said, folding her arms across her chest in a show of nonchalance. Inside she was bristling. So she never got flowers at work. Big deal. That was no reason for some busybody guard to go discussing her floral history with a complete stranger. “But you know what’s even more surprising? The fact that you would throw away whatever a hundred and eighty long-stem roses cost these days on a stupid ruse.”
He shrugged. “It worked. I’m standing here instead of being relegated to a few hurried moments of your time in the lobby. Educated guess,” he offered in response to her quick look of surprise. “Although it would help if I actually could read your mind. Then I’d know if the roses also succeeded in underscoring the point that when it comes to getting what I want, money is of no consequence.”
“Consider it underscored.”
“Good.”
“And in the interest of expediency, you should know that when it comes to refusing to sell the pendant to you, money is even less of a factor now than it was last night.”
It was Hazard’s turn to be surprised.
“Duly noted,” he murmured, glancing around for a place to put the flowers and settling on the top of the small file cabinet in the corner. “Although expediency doesn’t matter to me nearly as much as results.”
“Well, it matters to me. I get paid to report the news. And since money is very much of consequence when it comes time to pay my bills, I should get back to earning it.”
“I promise not to take too much of your time,” he told her, settling himself all comfylike against the deep window ledge, one leg hitched up so that his coat fell open, revealing a white shirt open at the throat and loosely tucked into a pair of impeccably tailored black slacks.
He seemed bigger than she remembered, his shoulders broader, his thigh distractingly well muscled. And with the morning sun slanting across his face, he also seemed harder somehow. It wasn’t a matter of lines or creases, but attitude. He might be younger than she was, but she’d bet he’d packed a lot more living into his years.
“So, what’s changed since last night?” he asked.
“I’ve learned a few things about the pendant that I didn’t know. When I got home, I showed it to my grandmother and she recognized it right away.”
His expression didn’t change, but the wariness that flickered in his eyes wasn’t lost on Eve. “Recognized it in what way?”
“From an old painting of one of our ancestors in Ireland,” she told him, filtering the details she
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