She raised an eyebrow. “You’re arrogant.”
“And you’re lying if you deny it. Which is why you aren’t denying it.”
She leaned against the bookcase, considering him. “I’m an excellent liar.”
“Not with me. And I think you know that.”
Had he always been this sexily confident? Had his quiet,unruffled demeanor simply concealed it from her? “Okay, hotshot. I’ve read this book. But I certainly have better things to do than wonder if you used me as inspiration for a self-serving socialite with questionable morals.”
She had never been able to read his emotions quite so easily. Remorse deepened the lines around his mouth. “Well, if you had, rest assured, I definitely did not.” He pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket and flipped open the book to the title page. Scrawling a couple of lines, he handed it back to her.
Unable to resist, she glanced at the writing.You’re more like the hero.
She bit her lip to keep from smiling. “Because I’m brilliant, aggressive, and sexually accomplished?”
His face was serious. “Yeah. And because you could probably save the world, if you were wearing the right shoes.”
She cleared her throat. It had been a while, but she vaguely recalled the time Agent Talent had freed himself from certain death with a knife concealed in the sole of his wingtips.
As amused as she was, she wouldn’t read too much into his words. He was being flip, that was all. Akira placed the book on the nearest shelf, ruining her admittedly obsessive ordering system. “I undoubtedly could.”
He shifted his weight.The light from the wall sconces caught the subtle reddish undertones in his hair. “So, what do you think?”
“Think?”
“Of my books.”
Her fingers drummed a steady tattoo on the shelf. “You don’t want to know.”
He winced. “Ouch. Okay. That bad, huh?”
“The intrigue and suspense part is always good,” she offered. “You’ve almost stumped me a couple of times until the middle.”
“I’m kind of hoping to stump people until the end.”
“Don’t worry. Most people aren’t as smart as me.”
He looked amused. “But?”
“But what?”
“The suspense is always good, but…”
She shrugged. “You need to work on your female characters.”
“My…” He drew back, offended. “I’ve been praised for my female characters.”
“You mean the ones you don’t brutally murder?”
A dark flush moved up Jacob’s face. “Shieldwas my first book, okay? I haven’t brutally murdered a woman in…” he flinched,“…at least two books?”
“Hmm.”
“I murder men too.”
“But never the hero.”
He was starting to look annoyed. Perversely, she kind of liked it. “The hero’s supposed to live. He’s the hero.”
