Hot Spot (3 page)

The moment she saw him she stood and smiled. A nice friendly smile. Not the kind he usually got from women.

“You’re early,” she said and offered her hand.

He accepted the firm handshake. “You’re earlier.”

“Bad habit of mine.” She reclaimed her seat, and he took off his overcoat and sat across from her, laying the expensive coat across his lap.

“My mother used to say that being prompt or early shows respect. Being late indicates you think your time is more valuable than the other person’s.” He didn’t have the faintest idea why he’d elaborated like that. But when her mouth stretched into a beautiful smile he was glad he had.

“Your mama sounds like a wise woman.”

“Yes, she was.”

“Oh.” Her smile faded. “I’m sorry. I lost mine, too. Last year. It was really hard. Still is.”

“Yeah. My mom passed away while I was in college. Seems like yesterday.”

An awkward silence settled for a few moments, and then they both spoke at once.

Madison grinned. “Go ahead.”

Two women sitting at a table behind Madison stared blatantly at him. He was used to the intrusion. Came with the territory. But this pair particularly annoyed him, especially the redhead, who gave him one of those silly four-fingered waves. “I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

A slight frown puckered Madison’s brows. “Here comes the waitress. Know what you want?”

What he wanted and what his personal trainer allowed were two different things. Ah, what the hell. “Scotch,” he told the young woman in the pink vest. “Neat.”

“Right away.” She looked barely twelve, although she obviously had to be over twenty-one. “Would you like another club soda?” she asked Madison.

“I’m good.” She waited until the waitress moved away, and then said, “You gotta admit, this place is amazing.”

Jack glanced at the unique, black-lacquered circular bar, awash in a rosy glow from the pink overhead lights. The bar chairs with the inverted triangular backs were chic and surprisingly comfortable from what he remembered of the grand opening. The entire hotel was a class act. That didn’t mean he wanted to be associated with the place. “No argument there.”

Her eyebrows rose. “But?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “What do you want me to say?”

“That you’ll do the photo shoot here.”

He smiled. “Why not Central Park?”

“Because it’s November and you’re likely to freeze you’re a—behind off.”

“It’s not that cold yet.”

“You won’t say that after we’ve been outside for six hours.”

“Six hours?”

“If we’re lucky.”

“Well, let’s make sure we’re real lucky.”

Her expression tightened, and she lifted her drink to her lips.

After a brief silence, he said, “I understand this isn’t just about me. It’s about the city. Isn’t that the first thing people think of when you mention Manhattan?”

She gave him a funny look. “They probably think of the Statue of Liberty.” Then quickly added, “And no, we’re not doing it there.”

“I guess that leaves out two places.”

Annoyance flashed in her light-brown eyes. “I don’t understand why it matters. It’s not like I’m asking you to run naked through Times Square.”

The waitress had reappeared and she’d obviously heard given the way her eyes widened slightly. “Excuse me.” She smiled at Jack. “The ladies at the next table would like to buy you a drink, Mr. Logan.”

He shook his head, his gaze staying on Madison. “Tell them thanks anyway, but it doesn’t look as if I’ll be staying long.”

Meeting his eyes, Madison didn’t seem the least bit intimidated. Angry, maybe. Frustrated, definitely.

Unaware of the undercurrent, the waitress said, “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you earlier, Mr. Logan. Between this job and school I don’t have much time to watch the news. Not that kind, anyway.”

He switched his gaze in time to see her oblivious smile before she walked away.
Not that kind.
Her words stayed behind, taunting him, reminding him of how many people didn’t consider him a serious newsman. To them he was just a pretty face, delivering national news, joking with his coanchor and providing entertainment while the television audience sipped their morning coffee.

“I have an idea,” Madison said, her nervousness betrayed by the way her fingers continuously circled the glass.

“I’m listening.”

“After our drink, why don’t we go for a walk around the hotel and—”

“I’ve already seen it.”

“All of it?”

“At the opening.”

“Ah.” She sighed, sinking back. “Of course.” And then she straightened and leaned toward him with re
newed determination on her face. “So? Is the place stunning or what?”

“Was that rhetorical?”

“Absolutely.”

He had to smile. She had a fascinatingly expressive face. A moment before she spoke he could tell what she was thinking. She wouldn’t make it a day in his business where everyone maintained a poker face. They had to. Never let them see you sweat. He’d learned the lesson early on.

For a second he regretted that they couldn’t come to terms. He wouldn’t mind working with her. But this obviously was a bad idea. The whole shoot celebrated an image he was trying to get away from. He shook his head. “This isn’t going to work. I’m sorry I wasted your time.”

M
ADISON EYED HIM
for a moment, trying to decide her best approach. Getting angry would obviously get her nowhere, no matter how much she wanted to tell him to get off his high horse. The waitress arrived with his drink, which gave Madison another few moments to consider pointing out that his agent and producer had both, on his behalf, agreed to this magazine spread.

Nah, too antagonistic. She didn’t need him getting defensive. She wanted his complete cooperation. Besides, it was apparent his agent had couched the truth. The spread had nothing to do with Manhattan and everything to do with the sex appeal of the man sitting across from her. And, oh, baby, was she sitting on a gold mine. She was going to kick ass. Make the other photographers seethe with envy.

But she had to be careful. His agent had confided that Jack Logan valued his privacy. That his initial response had been an unequivocal no. What had changed his mind, she had no idea. All she knew was that she couldn’t have him backing out now.

She watched him flash that million-dollar smile at the waitress, and had to swallow. He truly was beautiful. With those keen hazel eyes that danced with just enough
amusement and the kind of daring that could make a girl leap before she looked.

Madison considered herself fairly immune to pretty faces, but even she carefully avoided gazing too long for fear of getting off track, forgetting her goal. He was a meal ticket for her. Nothing more. Anyway, guys like him didn’t go for women like her, which made it easier to stay focused. Most of the time.

He pushed his fingers through his light-brown hair, and for a second she was tempted to ask the burning question. The one that always came up in the gossip columns. The one he always rebuffed. Was there someone special who got to run their fingers through those golden highlights?

As soon as the waitress left, Madison said, “Okay, let’s discuss Central Park. Midday lighting would be best.” She nibbled thoughtfully on her lower lip. Like hell they’d shoot there. Or anywhere outside. She was getting at least two shots with his shirt off, or her name wasn’t Madison Marie Tate. “Of course, a lot of people eat lunch there. Any later and people will be commuting or jogging. That’s okay. We can shoot around them.”

He paused to stare at her over his glass, and then downed the scotch.

Damn, she hoped he didn’t order another one too quickly. The drinks were coming out of her pocket, and at fourteen dollars a pop…God, if her credit card was maxed out she’d kick herself.

“The park’s a big place. Surely we can find some privacy.”

“Maybe. But we can’t shoot in only one spot, we need a variety of backdrops, and we’re bound to attract
some attention.” She smiled. “Of course, you’re used to being in the public eye. That shouldn’t bother you.”

His face tightened. Damn. Even frowning he looked good. “Where else did you have in mind?”

“Well, your studio might be interesting. A shot of you in your office, one on the set.”

He thoughtfully pursed his lips, looking entirely too interested in the idea.

“There won’t always be staff around, right?” she added quickly. “I will have to pose you at times, and well, I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable with an audience.”

“Pose me?”

“Of course.”

He thought for a moment. “No, not the studio.”

“Okay…” She paused for effect, and shifted her legs. Their knees touched under the table, and the awareness that sparked nearly threw her off track. “Sorry.”

“My fault.” He winced as he moved his legs to the side.

“You okay?”

“What? Yeah, old war wound.”

“Oh. You were in the service?”

One side of his mouth lifted. “Close. I was a field reporter back in the day.”

“Right.” She remembered reading his bio. “The Gulf War. Your first big assignment out of college.” The one that had launched his career, she almost said, but something in his grim expression warned her to drop the subject.

“You had another idea for a location?” he prompted.

She smiled sweetly. “How about your apartment?”

“I have a house.”

“Better yet. Where?”

“That’s out.”

“Why? We’d have privacy. People would love getting a peek into your private domain.”

He grunted. “Not going to happen.”

She’d actually started warming to the idea, and threw up her hands. “Then what’s your suggestion?”

He studied her for a long uncomfortable moment. Made her want to check her teeth. Take a swipe at her cheek in case something god-awful clung to her skin. Finally he said, “You’re manipulating me.”

She opened her mouth to deny it. “Is it working?”

He smiled, briefly, and then shook his head. “What about another hotel? The Plaza? The Waldorf Astoria?”

“They’re stuffy. They don’t suit your image.”

“And Hush does?”

“Absolutely.”

He didn’t look happy.

“Look.” She leaned forward. “I know you don’t like the sex symbol image. Your agent told me. But that’s part of what’s earning you the big bucks.”

Frowning, he broke eye contact and stared down at his empty glass.

“Hey, it’s not like I’m shooting a
Playgirl
layout,” Madison said, her confidence beginning to slip. If he backed out now, she’d be so screwed. “My name is gonna be attached to this. I’m motivated to keep the photos tasteful.”

He looked up and studied her for a long, uncomfortable moment. “You won’t make a big production out of the hotel.”

“Nope. You’re the star attraction.
Today’s Man
is a
woman’s magazine, and every female head turned when you walked in.”

“I didn’t notice,” he muttered.

“You’re used to it.” She shrugged, amazed that even the sudden scowl didn’t detract from his good looks. “That’s probably part of your appeal.”

“Are you always this frank?”

Madison nodded. “It saves a lot of time.”

His lips curved suddenly, surprising her, and unleashing a mass of butterflies in her stomach. The smile reached his eyes and they actually seemed to change color right before her, going from cool green to warm amber. “Okay, Hush it is.”

“Yeah?” She smiled back, words deserting her. Unusual for her. But there was something about this man…

“But…” He held up a finger as if admonishing a naughty child. Even his hands were noteworthy. Tan, with lean fingers and evenly clipped nails. No prissy manicure.

“I’m listening.” Barely. Her stomach was just beginning to calm down.

“I still have veto power.”

“Of course.” Her gaze went again to his hands, to that perfect golden color, so perfect it had to be artificial.

He squinted with suspicion. “What?”

“Are you tanned all over?”

His head reared back slightly.

“That’s strictly a professional question,” Madison said, and pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at his appalled expression.

She didn’t get her answer. The waitress reappeared to see if they wanted another round, and to ask for his
autograph on behalf of a woman seated behind Madison. Jack turned down another scotch, smiled graciously and took the pen and napkin from the waitress.

Madison studied his bent head as he signed his name. The highlights were natural, she decided, probably from the sun. His hair was already getting darker consistent with the fall weather that restricted outdoor activity. Just like her, in fact. She was always blonder in the summer. Except the sun wasn’t as creative or kind to her.

He looked up and met her eyes.

She smiled. “I’d hate this.”

“What?” He handed the napkin and pen back to the waitress who promptly disappeared.

“Being recognized, the intrusions…But I guess it comes with the territory.”

“So they tell me,” he said flatly, and then smiled briefly at someone over Madison’s shoulder. Then, barely moving his lips, he said, “Can we please get out of here?”

“Sure.” Madison grabbed her blazer and the camera bag she used as a purse. “Just let me get the check.”

He pulled some bills out of his pocket secured by a brushed-gold money clip. “Did you have more than the one club soda?”

“No, but I want to—”

He laid down three twenties. “That should take care of it.”

“No, this is on me. Besides, that’s way too much.”

He laughed humorlessly and stood. “The price of celebrity. Let’s go. Now.”

She realized what he’d meant as soon as she stood. The redhead, wearing a short white spandex dress with
more cleavage than good taste, approached the table. Jack smiled at her, tossed his coat over his shoulder and then took Madison by the elbow to hurry her along.

“Mr. Logan, I wanted to thank you personally for the autograph.” The woman smiled, flashing a set of superwhite teeth. “I truly hated to bother you.”

“No bother.” He stopped but his grip on Madison’s elbow tightened. “Sorry, but we’re in a hurry.”

“Of course.” The woman gave Madison an odd look, which took her a full twenty seconds to interpret as envy while Jack rushed her out of the intimate bar.

By the time they got to the lobby, she’d nearly hemorrhaged from trying not to laugh. Imagine anyone thinking she was
with
Jack Logan. What a hoot! Wait till she told Karrie and Talia.

“Are you really in a hurry, or was that a smoke screen?” she asked, turning to face him. He was tall but so was she, and standing so close, his incredible face only inches away, well, it literally took her breath away. She inhaled deeply, hopefully not conspicuously. “I’d like to show you some of the places I think would make great shots.”

His lips curved slightly and then he glanced at his watch. “My driver is picking me up in half an hour.”

“Great. We’ll make it a quickie.” To her horror, heat crept into her cheeks. Which was totally insane. She never blushed. “Oh, there’s Kit. She’s in charge of the hotel PR. Let me catch her and get a key.”

Madison took off in the woman’s direction. This was bad. Really bad. Madison moistened her dry lips. Swallowed hard. No, it was good. If she reacted this way to him, millions of women out there would be drooling
over his pictures. Over the cover. And let’s face it, if she couldn’t snag that cover with him as her subject, she might as well hang up her camera.

Her heart started to race, but this time it wasn’t because of a pair of incredible hazel eyes and a killer grin. She could see her star rising.

J
ACK GOT OUT HIS CELL PHONE
and called Dutch and told him to give him another hour before he picked him up. The network provided a car and driver. It was in Jack’s contract. One of many great perks that came with the job, he reminded himself. This photo-shoot nonsense was a trade-off. The sooner he got it over with, the better.

It could be worse. At least Madison Tate was a pleasant surprise. She was attractive enough, but it wasn’t that. As Larry had warned, there was something compelling about her, some quality that made you want to go along for the ride. Maybe it was her refreshing frankness, or that she wasn’t coy or flirtatious. He admired that she had a goal and kept her eyes on the ball. Too bad he was her short-term goal.

He saw her come from the direction of the front desk, and she smiled and held up a key, earning them a second look from a couple waiting for the elevator. He nearly choked wondering if she even knew what that looked like.

“I want to show you the rooftop garden for starters,” she said, briskly walking past him, obviously expecting him to follow. “And the pool and spa, and two of the suites that I think would be great possibilities. I’ll need to take quite a few shots, of course, and then narrow them down to five. So I’d like to widen our scope and—”

She stopped abruptly and looked over at him. “I know you’re in a hurry so I’m trying to make this quick.”

“Fine.”

“Okay.” She took the lead again, and he noticed that she had a slight sway to her hips that was totally unexpected. “We’ll start with one of the penthouse suites and the garden, and then work our way down until it’s time for you to go.”

“Fine.” He wished she’d lose the jacket. Give him a clear view of her behind.

“I’m kind of leaning toward spots where we can use the city as a backdrop. Obviously the rooftop garden is perfect but so are the suites and spa because they have views of Midtown or the skyline along the river.”

“Fine.” He had no doubt she had great legs. Long and lean, and her jeans were short enough that he could see her slim ankles. Generally a good sign.

She stopped again. “Could we have a little more enthusiasm here?”

“I beg your pardon.”

“Attitude is great for photographs but right now we need to get down to business,” she said, and then looked as if she wished she hadn’t. Drawing in her lower lip, she glanced away. “Sorry.”

Jack’s sparked temper subsided. Not just because of the apology. Or the sexy way she played with her lip. He’d allowed himself to be distracted and lost the thread of the conversation. “I’m sorry,” he said. “My mind wandered.”

She smiled, shrugged a shoulder. “Just give me a nudge if I’m making you yawn.”

He smiled back and they said nothing until they’d
gotten into the elevator and arrived at the roof. He held the cab door and waited for her to precede him. Before he stepped out, a fusion of fragrances reached him. Apparently, a small thing like winter hadn’t interrupted the Hush garden.

A retractable glass roof that hadn’t been there during the spring opening now enclosed the area making it a greenhouse. The air was almost too balmy. A plethora of scarlet mums and white carnations gave way to a standing fountain. Near a stone bench grew clusters of lavender orchids.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Madison looked at him, her eyes gleaming, and then she hurried to the edge and peered out over the city lights coming to life. “Wouldn’t this make an awesome shot?”

“Quite impressive, I have to admit.” Plexiglas domed past the railing giving observers a nearly panoramic view of Midtown and all the way to Central Park.

“They have a full-time gardener.”

“I’d imagine they’d have to.” He didn’t know much about flowers, but this assortment in late November? Someone had to work their butt off. Amazing what money could buy.