Midnight Special Coming on Strong - By Tawny Weber Page 0,71
smile stayed mellow, but his eyes were intense, not letting her look away. Marni puffed out a breath, then pulled the story file out of her bag and handed it to him.
“Just so you know, this isn’t open for editorializing,” she said, wiping her suddenly damp palm on her skirt. “I’ve already turned it in to my editor, he’s already accepted it. It’ll run in the next edition of Optimum.”
He gave her a long, assessing look. As if he was debating whether or not he was okay with that. Then, with a contemplative look on his face, he flipped the folder open.
His eyes rounded with shock. Marni gnawed on her lower lip. His gaze narrowed as he read. Marni pressed a hand to her churning stomach. Not because she was worried he’d be mad. But because she wanted him to be proud.
After a minute or two, she wanted to rip the papers from his hands and read it aloud to him. Hurry, hurry, hurry.
Finally, just about the time she was sure her head was going to explode from nervous excitement, he flipped back to the first page, then closed the file.
“Still love me?” she asked with a shaky smile.
He gave a wordless shake of his head, lifting the file as if to say wow.
Good wow or bad wow?
“You are something else,” he told her. “You wrote a profile on my father? You make him sound like, well, like the hero I always think of him as.”
Hunter looked away and cleared his throat. Then he tossed the file on the desk, took her hands again and lifted them to his lips in the most romantic gesture of her life.
“I don’t even have the words to thank you for writing such an incredible story. I’ve always been proud of my father, of his work. But I’m honored to see it laid out in such a remarkable way.”
Relief surged so strong, Marni’s knees almost gave out.
“I have to ask, though. Why did you change your focus? I know you talked a lot about biographies and stuff, but I thought that was just a cover.”
“It was and it wasn’t. The thing is, the more I talked about it, the more I worked on the profile of my aunt, just in case you happened to peek over my shoulder, the more I remembered how much I loved writing them. The more I researched for the Burns story, though, the more I dug into your history, and your father’s. I was fascinated.” She thought of those days with her aunt, their talks and the decisions Robin had helped her make. “I realized that while I might be good at hard-hitting news, it was the people in the news that captivated me. That’s what I wanted to focus on.”
She wet her lips, then touched the tips of her fingers to the folder before giving him a smile.
“I sent the piece on my aunt to my editor, too. He’s excited to run it, as well. Instead of becoming one of the minor players in the news department, I’m being given my own segment each month. Profiles, by Marni Clare. And I couldn’t, wouldn’t have ever done it without you.”
Just saying it made her shiver.
But not as much as the look of pride and delight on Hunter’s face as he drew her closer. His fingers tangled in her hair while he gently took her lips in a tribute. Marni fell into the kiss, delighting in the passion flaming between them, the commitment whispered in that soft meeting of their mouths.
Slowly, so deliciously slow, Hunter pulled his mouth away from hers. She forced her eyes open, needing to see his face when she asked her last question.
“So, you’re really happy about the story?”
“I’m really happy about the story,” he assured her.
“Good. Because your biographical profile will run next month.” When his mouth dropped, a horrified look skating through his gaze, she grinned and fluttered her lashes. “What can I say? I love you so much, I had to share how wonderful you are with the world.”
Epilogue
MARNI HAD THOUGHT TELLING Hunter she loved him was scary. And she’d been crazy nervous over his reaction to her new career focus, and his special place at the center of it. But those nerves, that fear, had nothing on the acrobatics going on in her stomach at that very moment. It was like butterflies, bats and dragons were square-dancing.
“I really shouldn’t be here,” she murmured from her safe, cozy spot in the passenger side