Triumph by Janet Dailey Page B

fascinating. A secret world of power and privilege,” she said eagerly. “Our viewers would love to know more.”
    He acknowledged the comment with a polite nod.
    “This is off the record,” Kelly assured him, “but would you mind if I jot down a few things as we talk?”
    “I suppose not.”
    Kelly took a pad and pen from her handbag, doing more listening than writing. The conversation continued, along very general lines. Gunther Bach said nothing specific about the operations of his private bank or the hedge fund he controlled, but she didn’t care. All she had to do was get his voice on tape.
    With a somewhat unnecessary flourish, their entrées arrived. No doubt the restaurant manager had told the staff to treat them like VIPs. Most of the other patrons pretended not to pay attention, but she did attract a few covert looks from the people who were closest. Gunther sipped his martini and responded in a muted voice to her questions.
    Several women who’d just been seated together nearby seemed to be pretending not to hear him. He barely glanced their way—but he did glance. Gunther Bach could probably take his pick of every female in the restaurant except her. She was grateful when one of the women complained to a waiter about the table wobbling, and they were moved away.
    Kelly ignored the phone, which never rang. Deke had told her that she didn’t have to worry about it. The screen glowed only once. Somehow, remotely, he was controlling it.
    She wrapped up the interview over dessert and coffee, tucking the notepad and pen back into her handbag while the table was cleared.
    A waiter appeared and used a silver-handled brush to sweep invisible crumbs into a small silver pan. She wished the check would arrive, but Bach seemed to be in no hurry. He rested his hands on the white damask tablecloth, looking at her. His steely eyes glittered with a new, slightly disturbing intensity.
    Kelly swung her legs to the side of her chair, preparing to rise from the table with a minimum of feminine fussing. She didn’t want to drag this out a second longer than she had to. Something had changed between them. She couldn’t figure it out.
    “Gunther, this has been great,” she said. “The lunch and the information, which is very, very useful. Of course, it’s going to take me a while to put together a proposal for a feature. Then I have to get approval from our news director before I can go ahead. You know how it is.”
    Her ditzy act seemed to amuse him. “Actually, I don’t.”
    “Feature reporting takes a lot of research and lots of time. Speaking of that, I have to get back to the station.” Kelly smiled brightly. She shifted her position and took hold of her handbag. “Again, it’s been a pleasure.”
    “For me as well.” He flashed a thin smile. “To be quite honest, it didn’t seem like an interview.”
    Kelly managed a laugh. “Then I guess I was doing it right. I find it’s best not to have a structured approach when I want a fresh angle for a feature.”
    “Is that it?” Bach’s steel-colored eyes narrowed, but he kept on smiling. “Hmm. I suspect you are not being honest with me.”
    That was out of the blue. Kelly scooped up the phone and car keys. Never mind putting them into her bag. She stood. Game over, she thought. But she could still bluff. “I don’t know what you mean.”
    “You barely took notes.” His thin smile vanished.
    “Ah—I didn’t really get a chance. But I do have a very good memory,” she said quickly.
    “I see.”
    He wouldn’t say good-bye and she couldn’t just storm out. Monroe Capp might know this guy. She didn’t want to be lectured by the news director for being rude to a mover and shaker.
    “Gunther, I really have to get back to WBRX.”
    “So soon?”
    Bach lifted his hands and—her eyes widened. There was a hotel keycard on the table. This hotel. Upstairs from the restaurant. The invitation was clear. Suite seduction. Maybe being seen with her had gone to