She took a sip of her tea. “It’s nice you’re spreading it around.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “So tell me what interests you, Katrina?”
***
Katrina didn’t want to like Grant Cassidy. She didn’t want him sitting at her table, yet there he was, drinking his beer and looking absolutely gorgeous.
She’d wanted to be alone, and she’d thought about spending the evening in her room so she could read. But it was just too beautiful here, and the beach and sea air beckoned, so she’d put on a pair of shorts and a tank top to come sit beachside for dinner.
Obviously a huge mistake, because no matter how hard she tried to insult the man, he simply wouldn’t leave.
And no matter how hard she tried to deny the chemistry she felt during their photo shoot today, she couldn’t.
She shot with male models all the time. Sometimes fully naked. She’d never felt anything. It was her job. She knew it, and so did the guys. But making eye contact with Grant Cassidy today, there’d been some kind of . . . she didn’t even know how to describe it. A zing somewhere in the vicinity of her lower belly. A low warming that had spread when he’d laid his hands on her.
Even now, hours later, she could still feel his touch, the way he’d looked at her. She’d wanted . . . more. And if there was one thing Katrina never wanted from a man, it was more of anything. She was too focused on her career to spend any time at all thinking of men. Work was everything to her, and men were a distraction.
Like now. He sat across the table from her, all big and tan and smiling at her like he had exactly what she wanted.
Only she didn’t want it. She wanted no part of anything he might have to offer.
She couldn’t want it. Still, she couldn’t help herself.
“I’m surprised you read that book,” she said.
“Now who’s stereotyping? You think I’m a dumb jock, that all I read is sports magazines.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I actually have a degree in accounting. And yes, I did graduate before I went out for the draft.”
She studied him. “Accounting. I don’t see it.”
“I was going to go for a law degree, but I like numbers better. I minored in finance. I wanted to make sure I could oversee my earnings with knowledge. I’ve seen too many football players blow it all or not know where their money is going, and a few years after they retire, the money is gone.”
He was smart, too. She liked that.
She leaned back and looked at him. “Do you have an investment portfolio?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. With the high income a successful model commands, I imagine you do as well.”
“I do. And I know exactly where my money is going.”
“See? I knew you were a smart woman, Katrina. Smart and beautiful—a lethal combination.”
She couldn’t help but appreciate that he mentioned the smart part before the beautiful part. Too many men never paid attention to the fact that she had a brain. All they saw was her face and body and never even wanted to have a conversation with her. Which was why she didn’t date. She didn’t have time for men who were that superficial.
Grant seemed . . . different. Yeah, there’d been that spark of chemistry at the photo shoot today, but so far all he’d done was talk to her. He didn’t sit down to ogle her or hit on her. It was kind of refreshing.
Not that she had any interest in dating him, but when was the last time she’d spent time talking with a man she wasn’t connected to in the industry? She wasn’t going to bed with him, but she could sit at the table and have a meal with him, right?
“Okay, fine. Let’s see what’s on the menu for dinner.”
Keep reading for a preview of the next Hope novel from Jaci Burton
LOVE AFTER ALL
Available March 2015 from Headline Eternal
Chelsea Gardner sat at the No Hope At All Bar, waiting for her friends.
While she waited, she got out her notebook and doodled.
Okay, maybe she wasn’t doodling. She was on a mission.
The ten-point list made perfect sense to her. She’d fine-tuned it, but really, she’d had this list in her head for a while now, and decided it was time to memorialize it, get it down on paper. Maybe even laminate it.
Chelsea was thirty-two years old, and the one thing she knew and knew well was men. She had years of dating history, and she could weed out a decent man from a loser in the first fifteen minutes of a date.
She should write a book about it. She’d probably make millions.
Okay, in reality, maybe not. But she had a lot of experience in dating. She could offer up some valuable advice. At least advice on how to date the wrong man.
Hence the list.