She didn’t like the look in his eyes when he turned his head toward her again. It wasn’t anger she saw there, nor was it arrogance, but something beyond both. “I do what I do best, Lenore.” When he’d come into the room, he hadn’t planned to do any more than rake her to the bone for her deception and berate her for wasting her talent. Now, as he watched her, Hunter began to think there was a better way to do that and at the same time learn more about her for his own purposes. He was a long way from finished with Lenore Radcliffe. “Just how important is doing a story on me to you?”

Alerted by the change in tone, Lee studied him cautiously. She’d tried everything else, she decided abruptly, perhaps she could appeal to his ego. “It’s very important. I’ve been trying to learn something about you for over three months. You’re one of the most popular and critically acclaimed writers of the decade. If you—”

He cut her off by merely lifting a hand. “If I decided to give you an interview, we’d have to spend a great deal of time together, and under my terms.”

Lee heard the little warning bell, but ignored it. She could almost taste success. “We can hash out the terms beforehand. I keep my word, Hunter.”

“I don’t doubt that, once it’s given.” Crushing out his cigarette, Hunter considered the angles. Perhaps he was asking for trouble. Then again, he hadn’t asked for any in quite some time. He was due. “How much more of the manuscript do you have completed?”

“That has nothing to do with this.” When he merely lifted a brow and stared, she clenched her teeth. Humor him, Lee told herself. You’re too close now. “About two hundred pages.”

“Send the rest to my editor.” He gave her a mild look. “I’m sure you have her name by now.”

“What does that have to do with the interview?”

“It’s one of the terms,” Hunter told her easily. “I’ve plans for the week after next,” he continued. “You can join me—with another copy of your manuscript.”

“Join you? Where?”

“For two weeks I’ll be camping in Oak Creek Canyon. You’d better buy some sturdy shoes.”

“Camping?” She had visions of tents and mosquitoes. “If you’re not leaving for your vacation right away, why can’t we set up the interview a day or two before?”

“Terms,” he reminded her. “My terms.”

“You’re trying to make this difficult.”

“Yes.” He smiled then, just a hint of amusement around his sculpted mouth. “You’ll work for your exclusive, Lenore.”

“All right.” Her chin came up. “Where should I meet you and when?”