She didn’t like the way he said it—as if she had no real choice. “Hunter, I didn’t come here to discuss my work, but you and yours. I’m flattered that you think my novel has some merit, but I have a job to do.”

“Flattered?” he countered. The deep, black gaze pinned her again, and his hand closed over hers. “No, you’re not. You wish I’d never seen your novel and you don’t want to discuss it. Even if you were convinced it was worthwhile, you’d still be afraid to put it all on the line.”

The truth grated on her nerves and on her temper. “My job is my first priority. Whether that suits you or not doesn’t matter. It’s none of your business.”

“No, perhaps not,” he said slowly, watching her. “You’ve got a fish on your line.”

“I don’t want you to—” Eyes narrowing, she broke off. “What?”

“There’s a fish on your line,” he repeated. “You’d better reel it in.”

“I’ve got one?” Stunned, Lee felt the rod jerk in her hands. “I’ve got one! Oh, God.” She gripped the rod in both hands again and watched the line jiggle. “I’ve really caught one. What do I do now?”

“Reel it in,” Hunter suggested again, leaning back on the grass.

“Aren’t you going to help?” Her hands felt foolishly clumsy as she started to crank the reel. Hoping leverage would give her some advantage, she scrambled to her feet. “Hunter, I don’t know what I’m doing. I might lose it.”

“Your fish,” he pointed out. Grinning, he watched her. Would she look any more exuberant if she’d been given an interview with the president? Somehow, Hunter didn’t think so, though he was sure Lee would disagree. But then, she couldn’t see herself at that moment, hair mussed, cheeks glowing, eyes wide and her tongue caught firmly between her teeth. The late-morning sunlight did exquisite things to her skin, and the quick laugh she gave when she pulled the struggling fish from the water ran over the back of his neck like soft fingers.

Desire moved lazily through him as he took his gaze up the long length of leg flattered by brief shorts, then over the subtle curves accented by the shifting of muscle under her shirt as she continued to fight with the fish, to her face, still flushed with surprise.

“Hunter!” She laughed as she held the still-wriggling fish high over the grass. “I did it.”

It was nearly as big as the largest one he’d caught that week. He pursed his lips as he sized it up. It was tempting to compliment her, but he decided she looked smug enough already. “Gotta get it off the hook,” he reminded her, shifting only slightly on his elbows.