She put up a finger. “Okay, first of all, I am not going all over town asking about you. I’ve only been to the bank, the pharmacy, and here.”
“That’s about all there is to Gauthier.”
“And secondly”—her voice held a hint of irritation—“may I point out that I wouldn’t have to go around asking about you if you’d just agree to an interview. I promise it’ll be painless.”
A nerve jumped in Matt’s jaw. He was stuck between the proverbial rock and a hard place. He sure as hell didn’t want to answer any of her prying questions, but if she insisted on digging into his background, he wanted to stay on top of just what she uncovered. There were things about both him and his family that were better left buried, and Matt intended on keeping it that way.
If he agreed to let her interview him, he could give her just enough to satisfy her curiosity. Maybe then she would move on to something else.
“Fine,” he finally answered. “Why don’t I take you to lunch? I’ll answer anything you want to know.”
She gave him a cheeky smile. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Yeah, that was because the questions hadn’t started yet.
“I knew I should have started dieting the day I decided to spend my summer in Louisiana,” Tamryn said, using the crusty French bread to soak up some of the spicy shrimp étouffée. Her eyelids slid closed as she slipped the morsel between her lips, releasing a throaty moan.
Matt’s stomach clenched at the sound. So did the fingers he’d wrapped around his iced tea, to the point where he figured he was in danger of shattering the glass. She’d been making those little noises throughout their meal. Sounds that, if he closed his eyes, he could imagine coming from something much more enjoyable than a simple lunch at Emile’s.
She expelled another satisfied sigh, then pushed the plate away. “No more. I can’t spare the extra calories.”
His eyes narrowed with his skeptical frown. “You’re joking, right?”
“Oh, how I wish.” She laughed, then hunched her shoulders in a hapless shrug. “What can I say? I love to eat. I’m counting this as my splurge meal for the week.”
Matt shook his head. The woman clearly worried about the wrong things.
From the moment he’d pulled his bike up to her smoking car yesterday, he hadn’t been able to get her shapely body out of his head. The sleeveless top and formfitting skirt she wore today weren’t helping.
Just picturing the way the slim black skirt conformed to her delicately curved hips and nicely rounded butt had his skin warming. She had the kind of legs you usually saw in lady-shaving-cream commercials, her calves toned and smooth. She stood about a half foot shorter than his own six feet, three inches—just the right height. Their bodies would line up perfectly.
Whoa.That was an image he definitely didn’t need in his head right now. He was having a hard enough time getting his body under control, especially after sitting here for the past twenty minutes watching as Tamryn wrapped her plump lips around her fork and moaned in pleasure with each bite.
Matt couldn’t hold back his chagrin at the irony of it all. The woman he’d spent the past six months dodging every chance he could get was sitting across from him right now, eliciting the kind of wet-dream–worthy fantasies he hadn’t experienced since high school.
Eyeing the plate, Tamryn said, “One more bite,” before picking up the fork and scooping up more étouffée. She shoved the plate away again, and tossed her linen napkin over the remnants of her lunch. “Okay, I’m really done now.”
Matt lifted an amused brow. “You sure about that?”
“Yes. No more.” She picked up her pen and notepad. “So, you’ve worked in your family’s law practice since you finished law school?”
Matt squelched his disappointed sigh. He’d forgotten for a moment that, for her, this was a working lunch. If he used even an ounce of his common sense, he would accept that it should be the same for him. He’d already decided that any romantic interest in her was now off the table.
Although the longer he sat across from her, the harder it was to remember just why he could no longer pursue her.
“So?” she asked.
Matt straightened and blinked several times. “What?”
She sighed. “These questions are not that difficult, Mr. Gauthier.”
“It’s Matthew,” he said. “Or Matt. And forgive me for being difficult.”
“I didn’t say thatyouwere being difficult, I said that these questions were not. But, now that you mention it, youarebeing rather difficult.”
He grinned. “That’s what happens when you strong-arm someone into an interview they didn’t want to participate in.”
She choked out a shocked laugh. “Strong-arm? Look at you and look at me. There is no way I could strong-arm you into doing anything you didn’t want to do.”
