No Stranger to Scandal - By Rachel Bailey Page 0,22
about any late-night meetings that other people wouldn’t notice.”
“Rosebud comes in handy,” he said dryly, and she wondered if he realized she’d used Rosie to start a conversation that first day in the park.
She smiled noncommittally. “She sure does.”
Connections with other journalists came in handy, too—she’d heard back this morning from a friend she’d graduated with who’d gone on to work for a New York newspaper. Lucy had asked him to poke around and see if he could find any secrets in Hayden’s past for Graham’s exposé. Her friend had dug up someone who knew Hayden’s in-laws. Seemed they weren’t his biggest fans. They’d wanted their daughter to marry someone of her own class, not a boy—then in the military—who’d come from nowhere. The only thing they were happy about was that he’d put the money he’d inherited from his deceased wife into a trust fund for Josh. Nothing particularly explosive for the story, but her background research folder was growing.
Lucy sifted through more of the papers around her, documents she’d already read, searching for an evasive clue, until Hayden looked up sharply.
“Did you know Angelica wears contacts?”
“Doesn’t surprise me, but no.” And now that she thought about it, Angelica’s eyes were an unusual shade of blue—almost aqua.
He laid down the papers in his hand and picked up his coffee mug. “Why doesn’t it surprise you?”
“She’s vain, and very careful about letting anyone see her unless she’s wearing a full face of makeup. The other on-air journalists are always immaculately presented when they go on camera, but off air they’re more casual.”
He returned the mug to the coffee table. “It probably doesn’t mean anything. I just don’t trust her.”
“Well, I sure don’t trust her,” Lucy said. She’d seen her being nasty and vindictive—experienced it herself—far too many times for that. “Do you think she could be involved?”
“Could be, but it’s unlikely.” There was a definite note of frustration in his voice. “If she’d found the leads, would she let Ames and Hall take the credit? She’s ambitious and it was the biggest story of the year—surely she’d want her name attached.”
He was right, which left them back at square one. Well, not exactly square one, because they’d eliminated some leads. Putting her hands in the small of her back, she stretched, trying to get rid of some of the kinks that sitting on the sofa had created. From the corner of her eye she noticed Hayden subtly watching and her pulse picked up speed. She turned her head a fraction, just enough to let him know she’d noticed. He didn’t look away. If anything, his gaze intensified. Her mouth dried and she moistened her lips—he watched that, too. Then, oh, so slowly, he drew in a breath and looked away, dissolving the tension that had risen. She steadied herself and followed his lead. Falling under Hayden Black’s thrall was a bad, bad idea for her sanity.
What was she supposed to be doing? The investigation. Who else could have been helping Troy and Brandon if it wasn’t Angelica. Right.
She rubbed her hands over her face, hoping it would help her focus. “If someone else is involved, it makes more sense that they’re more senior, not just another reporter.”
He riffled through a pile of reports until he found a chart she’d drawn two nights ago. “Tell me again about who was supposed to be managing Ames and Hall.”
She scooted over to his sofa and looked at the chart illuminated in soft lamplight. Heat emanated from his body. “This is the line of responsibility.” She reached across and touched a fingertip to the paper he held, and as she did, the sensitive underside of her wrist grazed lightly over crisp hairs on his forearm. A shiver ran up her spine.
She heard a sharply indrawn breath and looked to see his gaze locked on her, his eyes darkened with the same need she felt. For a charged moment, neither of them moved, and the only sound she heard was the pounding of her heart. He was so close—a whisper away.
“Lucy, we can’t.” His voice was torn from his throat.
Hearing he was as close to the edge as she was had the opposite effect from what he’d intended. She’d never been good at following rules, or doing what she was told. The day’s stubble on his cheeks beckoned, and she ran her fingertips across it to see what it felt like, what he felt like. His jaw was clenched so hard that a muscle in