“No.” Shaken, she stepped away and snatched up her purse. “The conference ends tomorrow and I go back to L.A.” Suddenly angry, she turned to face him. “You’ll go back to whatever hole it is you hide in.”

He inclined his head. “Perhaps.” It was best she’d put some distance between them. Very abruptly, he realized that if he’d held her a moment longer, he wouldn’t have let her go. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

She didn’t question her own illogic, but shook her head. “No, we won’t talk anymore.”

He didn’t correct her when she walked to the door, and he stood where he was when the door closed behind her. There was no need to contradict her; he knew they’d talk again. Lifting his glass of wine, Hunter gathered up the manuscript she’d forgotten and settled himself in a chair.

Chapter 4

Anger. Perhaps what Lee felt was simple anger, without other eddies and currents of emotion, but she wasn’t certain whom she felt angry with.

What had happened the evening before could have been avoided—should have been, she corrected as she stepped out of the shower. Because she’d allowed Hunter to set the pace and the tone, she’d put herself in a vulnerable position and she’d wasted a valuable opportunity. If Lee had learned anything in her years as a reporter, it was that a wasted opportunity was the most destructive mistake in the business.

How much did she know of Hunter Brown that could be used in a concise, informative article? Enough for a paragraph, Lee thought in disgust. A very short paragraph.

She might have only one chance to make up for lost time. Time lost because she’d let herself feel like a woman instead of thinking like a reporter. He’d led her along on a leash, she admitted bitterly, rubbing a towel over her dripping hair while the heat lamp in the ceiling warmed her skin. Instead of balking, she’d gone obediently where he’d taken her. And had missed the most important interview of her career. Lee tossed down the towel and stalked out of the steamy bathroom.

Telling herself she felt nothing but annoyance for him and for herself, Lee pulled on a robe before she sat down at the small writing desk. She still had some time before room service would deliver her first cup of coffee, but there wasn’t any more time to waste. Business first … and last. She pulled out a pad and pencil.