She crossed her arms. “Okay, fine. What’s it about?”
“There’s this guy, and he works for the CIA. But he’s a double agent, working both sides. You don’t know throughout the book if he’s a good guy or bad guy, or if the other CIA agent he hooks up with in Seoul is on his side, or out to kill him. So when they both show up on the train—”
She held up her hand. “Stop. I haven’t gotten to that part yet. Fine, I get it. You’ve read it.”
“You thought I was bullshitting you.”
“You wouldn’t be the first.”
The waitress brought their drinks. “Thanks,” Grant said. “Can we see some menus?”
“I don’t want to see a menu,” she said to the waitress, who walked away anyway. She turned her attention back on Grant. “I don’t want you to sit here with me. Honestly, are you always this rude?”
“Not always. You bring out the best in me.”
She rolled her eyes.
“So tell me why that book.”
“I like suspense and crime fiction.”
“You don’t strike me as the type.”
Her brows lifted. “Type? Why? Did you expect I’d be thumbing through a fashion magazine? Or perhaps you thought I didn’t know how to read, so I would just look at the pictures. Do you expect all models to be dumb?”
Man, was she ever sensitive. “That would be stereotyping, and I’d be the last person to do that. And no. You looked like the type to read books on … I don’t know. Psychology or something.”
She laughed. “Why?”
He picked up her dark glasses. “You look so smart wearing these.”
“I am smart. With or without the glasses.”
He could tell he was digging the hole even deeper with every word he said. “Sorry. I’m not getting this out right. I’ve dated a few models.”
“So I’ve heard.”
He sighed. “A lot of them have different interests. One was a certified scuba diver, so I learned to dive when I was dating her. One was a hiker and a climber. I did some heinous climbs with her.”
“You dated Elesia?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
She wrinkled her nose. “She’s a pit viper.”
He laughed. “I’m not even going to comment.”
“You have interesting taste in women.”
“I like women who intrigue me and challenge me. Not just a pretty face.”
“Good to know the modeling world isn’t growing old and moldy with no men to date as long as you’re around. After all, where would we be without our sports stars to take care of us?”
“Now who’s stereotyping? I’ve also dated a schoolteacher, an accountant, a microbiologist, and a landscape architect.”
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 thought about spending the evening in her room, so she could read. But it was 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 posed 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.”