The Bachelor Chronicles

His eyes followed her progress toward him, and she felt a feminine thrill at the appreciation glinting in their dark depths. She did look pretty good, didn’t she? She pulled her shoulders back and thrust out her bra-enhanced chest the way Colleen had taught her, then swung her hips as she walked. Yeah, that was it, sway ’em, honey—

“Oof!” The sound popped from her mouth as she collided with a waiter. Before she could catch herself, her heel snagged on the carpet and she was teetering on the edge of a three-inch spike, desperately trying to stay upright. Somehow she managed to keep from falling on her butt. Barely. So much for the sexy routine.

Her face blazing, she looked at Jared and her hopes plummeted. The appreciative look had vanished, and his hand was over his mouth as mirth danced in his eyes. Had she blown her big plan already? Doubt hovered on the edge of her mind, eating away at her confidence in her ability to pull off this sexy act. She was way out of her league.

But humiliation was better than homelessness. She had to do this, so she kept walking.

Jared rose as she reached the table. He extended his hand. “Having a little trouble there?”

Erin shook his hand and his warm touch lit a fire under her skin. Dismayed, she managed to hold in a snappy comeback, remembering the interview. He was no dream date; this was strictly business. “I guess you could say that. My heel caught on the carpet.”

His eyes flicked down briefly. “And your skirt? What did it catch on?”

Erin glanced down and gasped. Between the last tug and the table, her skirt had ridden almost all the way up her thighs. Only an inch or so saved her from total indecency. “Oh, my goodness!” She jerked the wayward garment down. “Darn the thing.”

He smiled and raised an amused brow, but she thought him wise to keep silent. She unhitched the shoulder strap of her briefcase, put it down and plopped onto her chair. Her dignity had been left a few steps back, but she’d have to live with that. She had a job to do.

She looked at Jared. “Mr. Warfield—”

“Jared.”

She nodded stiffly. While she had been thinking “stud-muffin” in her head, she wondered how smart it was to be on a first-name basis with him outside of her thoughts. Deciding not to worry about the small stuff, she said, “Jared, I’m so glad you decided to accept my invitation. To be honest, I wasn’t sure you would.”

His eyes still glinting with suppressed amusement, Jared took a sip of water. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”

A tiny flare of irritation flashed through her. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “I wanted to find out how desperate you really were.”

“But you’re here for the interview, aren’t you?”

He lifted a single brow. “Maybe I just came for a free lunch. Oh, and thanks for the book.”

Ribbons of concern curled around Erin. This was a last-ditch effort, her one chance to save her financial bacon. She swallowed her concern and smiled the sexy, come-hither way she and Colleen had practiced in front of the mirror, remembering The Plan. “Oh, I have a feeling you’ll cooperate.”

He gave her a strange look, one she couldn’t make sense of. She chose to read it as a positive sign.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She held the smile and arched a brow. “Of course. Why do you ask?”

“Your face is all scrunched up and you have a tick in your eyebrow.” He looked down and pressed his lips together. When he looked back up, he’d managed to wipe the smirk from his face. “Are you ill?”

Her smile faded and her eyebrow fell. Scrunched? A tick? That wasn’t the effect she’d been going for. “Uh, no, not at all. I have something in my eye.” She made a big show of rolling her eyes around.

“Need a tissue?” he asked, his tone appropriately serious.

She held up her hand. “No, I’m fine.”

When she looked nervously back at him, he was studying his menu, a ghost of a smile hovering on his mouth. Her hopes sank again. She’d come here dressed like this to turn him on, not make him laugh. What had she been thinking? She knew better than to try to be something she wasn’t, and this was hardly her. Plus, he was talking like he wasn’t going to grant her the interview. Had she made a fool of herself for nothing?

She slanted another quick glance at him. When he looked up, he caught her gaze with his heart-stopping, cocoa eyes. Then he smiled, flashing even, white teeth, and her blood warmed. He was just as gorgeous as she remembered, hang him. It would be ten times easier dealing with a man who didn’t have the uncanny ability to turn her on by simply sitting there looking good. Horrified, she grabbed her menu and pretended to study it. The waiter arrived and they ordered, though she doubted she could eat a bite.

Despite the chaos whirling around inside of her like a child’s toy top, it was time to get down to business. The direct approach seemed the way to go. Besides, she was too hot, bothered and worried for any more small talk.

She pushed up her glasses and opened her mouth to ask, once again, for his cooperation, but the words never made it past her lips.

Jared’s pager trilled, and he looked down to his waist. “Sorry,” he said, turning the device off. “I’ll be right back.” He excused himself, and Erin sat at the table alone, her stomach tied in knots, vaguely wondering why he didn’t carry a cell phone.

Then her thoughts snagged on how busy Jared undoubtedly was. He would probably get called away on business and she’d lose the interview and she’d end up begging in the streets.

Sharp memories of her childhood rose in her, memories of the months she and her mother had spent on the razor edge of homelessness, the wolves of debt clawing at their door. Her breath left her in a rush. She couldn’t live like that again. But she’d blown the interview a second time, and she hadn’t uttered a word. Her crazy scheme had backfired and now he thought she was a scrunch-faced, tick-eyed fool in spike heels and a miniskirt.

A few tense minutes later, Jared returned from the front desk, his face neutral. No smile. No frown. Nothing.

Thoroughly deflated, Erin forced words past the tight lump in her throat. “No interview, right?”

He nodded tersely. “Right.”

Her shoulders slumped. She pressed a hand to the base of her throat, fighting off tears.

“Hey, are you all right?” He sat back down.

She bit back a rueful laugh. He didn’t really care whether or not she was okay. While keeping her heart safe from betrayal was necessary, it also left her alone with no one to turn to when things got tough.

“I’m fine,” she whispered, lying.

And then she distinctly heard a wolf howling in the distance.

As a chill ran up her spine, she forced herself to look at Jared. His expression was still blank. He wasn’t going to help her out.

Worse yet, she’d gone about getting this interview all wrong, stupidly alienating Jared from the start. Now she’d lost not only the best interview opportunity she’d had in months, but the chance to win the byline and bonus that could turn her life around.

Where did that leave her? Two steps closer to losing her home and everything she’d worked so hard for in the past two years.

And that was too darn close for comfort.

Erin’s expression had fallen at Jared’s news. Quite surprisingly he regretted he had to cancel the interview. It was probably because of how good she looked in that short skirt, tight top and heels, but he veered away from the thought, as if it had fangs. This wasn’t the time or the place to let his hormones take over, even though she looked so good he wanted to reach under the table and see how short her skirt really was.

But business was business, and his was demanding attention. A vague sense of relief trickled through him. Now he could forget about this infernal interview, Allison would stay safe, and he could get away from Erin and the attraction that always seemed to take over every time he laid eyes on her.

He ignored the niggling voice in the back of his head, the one that sounded like Mark Phillips, chanting an ominous reminder about publicity. Canceling the interview couldn’t be helped.

Erin looked up at him with those beautiful, grass-green eyes, now glassy with moisture. Oh, man. Near tears, she didn’t look dangerous or like a cutthroat reporter. A heart-breaker, yes, but not a ruthless journalist.

Damn.

Was he being foolish and petty and overprotective of Allison? No thunderbolts would shoot from the sky and strike him dead if he gave the interview and suffered through one measly date. He was letting his past experience with the press cloud his normally clear judgment, and when it came to his business, he considered that akin to sinning. And he did feel guilty that Erin might lose her job if she didn’t get this interview. She’d been as tenacious as a dog with a bone.