cranky sometimes when you’re not getting your way,” I scolded, trying my best not to laugh.
“It’s rare that I don’t get my way, except when it comes to you,” he said unhappily. He was silent for a minute before he asked, “You’re messing with me again, right? I find it hard to believe that you’re actually afraid of me.”
“I’m not,” I assured him. “Bark all you want. I’m used to it.”
“Still messing with me?” he asked.
My heart ached because I knew it was a serious question. Did the guy joke around so little, and get exactly what he wanted without question so much that he couldn’t tell when someone was actually razzing him?
“Yep.” I quipped.
“I thought so,” he said as he let out a long breath. “It’s not like I’m an asshole all the time.”
“You are never an asshole,” I said, feeling the need to reassure him, even though he was a powerful billionaire who didn’t have to give a damn what he said. “I think you’re actually pretty sweet. Nobody has done something this nice for me in a long time, Hudson.”
“Why?” he asked curiously. “I don’t get it. Why isn’t there somebody special in your life, Taylor? You must have had plenty of guys all over you at Stanford. You’re beautiful, and highly intelligent. Yet there’s no adoring male wrapped around your finger.”
My heart started cartwheeling inside my chest, even though I knew I was far from beautiful.
I was a redheaded wild child, complete with all the freckles that had never entirely faded away when I’d become an adult. “I’m not beautiful, Hudson. And have you actually looked at my face? I’m a mess. I did date a little while I was at Stanford, but I guess I just never found that…spark. No connection. And I was really busy. Things were pretty tight for me. I had a part-time job and my Tai Chi classes to help pay the bills, but most of my energy was focused on getting through my master’s program. Stanford isn’t cheap.”
I was a realist, and my initial reaction to his comments settled down in a hurry.
My flame-colored hair had a mind of its own most of the time, so I usually just hauled it back in a ponytail like it was right now. I’d accepted that some of my freckles were never going to disappear, and that my less-than-impressive breast size was never going to change. I was even okay with the fact that most makeup made my face break out in hives, so I had to avoid the majority of them. I certainly wasn’t going to have some kind of growth spurt at the age of twenty-eight, so I’d never have long, sexy legs that made me look elegant and graceful, but I could live with that, too.
Luckily, I’d never really been a “girlie” kind of girl, and I wasn’t one as an adult, either.
His comment that men should have been chasing me all over Stanford was ludicrous.
Yeah, I’d gone out with a couple of guys, but mostly, I was that woman who plenty of men wanted as a friend, but didn’t exactly look at me with any kind of passionate intentions.
I sighed as one of Mac’s many statements ran through my mind. Something he’d said to me not long before he’d closed his eyes for the very last time.
Someday, you’ll meet a man who is worthy of you, Tay. You’ll know he’s the right one because you’ll recognize him with your entire soul, and you’ll see the same longing when you look into his eyes. Wait for him, and don’t settle for anything less.
So far, that guy had been nothing more than a fantasy, then again, I hadn’t been that eager to leap into anything, either. Maybe because I was still waiting…
“I have looked at your face,” Hudson finally said in a throaty, deep voice. “I thought you were pretty damn gorgeous even before I met you in person. Maybe you’re still a little banged up, but you don’t look all that different from your picture now.” He halted for a second before he continued, like he was dreading whatever it was he needed to say next. “Marshall puts together a dossier on every victim so we know what they look like, and he also includes as much history as he can get so we know what kind of person we’re dealing with before we go into a mission. I think the picture I viewed was from the day you graduated