“That you’re smart. Strong. Determined.” Travis takes a sip, his eyes remaining on mine. Then he leans, places his glass on the table, and rests back against the cushion. I watch as he trails a finger across my thigh. “A shame you have so many clothes on.”
God, it so is.
He looks like he belongs in the Hamptons with his tan chinos and white shirt. Like a sexy drug lord. Or maybe I’ve been watching far too many mafia movies lately.
“And before you accuse me of wooing you, this is called seduction.”
I blush. “Then why are you watching my show? If you are just interested in sex.”
“I’m a curious man. Then you caught my attention with the Leo Taylor story, and I kept listening.”
Ah.
That makes sense. He’s a well-known actor.
“Big fan are you?” I say with more of a tone that I should have. He’s silent, and despite most people thinking his expression remains blank, I’m trained to read people.
But I can’t find a word to describe what I’m seeing.
Almost anger.
“I wouldn’t call myself a fan,” Travis answers; his voice holds a note that has the investigative part of me wanting to dig into.
“Really? All those action movies and you didn’t grow up watching them? Aspiring to be like him.”
He lets out a dry and dark laugh.
“No.” Travis physically moves away and then catches himself, settling back.
Interesting.
He runs his hand through the front of his hair, mussing it, and then draws in a breath. I’m intrigued by how flustered he is. Normally he’s so in control.
“So you think he’s guilty?”
Dark eyes shoot to mine. “Yes.”
“Care to explain?”
“Maybe. Can I trust you?”
I blink, studying him as I would anyone with information. Right now, I’m not the woman he is going to pleasure tonight, I’m a journalist. I’ve snapped into work mode like I’m a ring binder.
“I’m investigating him, so the answer is yes and no. If you share information that could be of value, I’m going to pursue it.”
“This is not my story to share, but I believe it’s something you should know.”
Jesus.
I want to drag it out of him.
“We thoroughly investigate any leads, so whatever you tell me we need to quantify. I may need to interview you or one of my team can—”
Travis shakes his head.
“Then I can’t use what you tell me.”
He turns to face me properly, his hand behind me flat against my upper back. His eyes are intense despite all his efforts to remain calm.
