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That made Daphne freeze, her head over the bowl.
“All right,” she said slowly. “We can definitely cut back on your workload. Like I said last week, you absolutely don’t need to do these by phone.” In fact, I’d rather you didn’t, but you insist, and while some of your answers make me cringe, my publisher is thrilled.
“No, the publicist said phone or video chat is preferred by journalists. The problem is that sometimes they ask questions I can’t answer.”
“Which is why we were supposed to use an earpiece,” she said.
They’d done that when the phone interviews started last week, but Chris had an alarming habit of answering questions before she could formulate a response. When they’d had technical difficulties, he’d flown solo and aced it. For the last two, they’d skipped the earpiece.
She continued, “I would never want you doing anything you’re uncomfortable with. I know there’s been a lot of interest in interviews, far beyond what I ever imagined.”
“Because of me,” he said with a soft chuckle. “I mean, the book’s good. It must be, if it got those circled reviews, right?”
A pinprick stabbed behind Daphne’s eyes as she pushed to her feet. “Starred reviews. I know that interviewer thought you were adorable getting that wrong, but…”
“Adorable because I’m a baby author. I’m not expected to know all this. My point is that you’ve obviously written a good book, and I’m good at promoting it. We make an awesome team.”
“If you’re asking for a raise, don’t hint, Chris. Just ask—”
“No raise. Not yet.” Another chuckle, and despite her annoyance, she noted it was a very sexy chuckle indeed, one that rippled through her every time she heard it.
Oh, Chris. You could be so perfect.
Too perfect. That was the problem. A guy like Chris Ainsworth had to be a jerk. Otherwise, he’d be clearly hiding a secret past as an axe murderer.
“What do you need, Chris?”
“More face time. I need to be you, D, and I can’t, because I don’t know you well enough.”
She thumped onto her writing recliner, and Tika took up residence at her feet. “But you aren’t supposed to be me. You’re Zane. That’s the whole point.”
“I’m Zane, but Zane is you. You wrote this book. You live that life. Well, except for the part about rescuing cougar cubs from charging grizzlies, but I’m sure you could, if you tried.”
“Also if there were actual cougars here.” She paused with her hand halfway to her water glass. “Wait, I thought you rescued it from a non-charging grizzly.”
“Er, that was the first interview. The one I did yesterday… I might have gotten carried away. She loved it, though. Sent me her phone number in case I had anything more to add.”
“That’s not why she sent you her number.”
He chuckled. “It might have had something to do with the photo I sent her, too.”
Daphne thumped back in the recliner. “Oh God. Please don’t tell me you’re sending dick pics.”
“Of course not.” He paused. “Unless you want me to. Maybe I could accidentally send them. Like ‘Here’s a photo of me holding a bear cub, whoops, that’s not a bear cub.’”
Daphne pressed her knuckles into her mouth to hold back a laugh. Do not encourage him.
“I’m kidding, D. I’d never do that. Do guys really think a woman is going to get an unsolicited dick pic and say, ‘Mmm, gotta get me some of that’?”
Her next words evaporated. Damn you, Chris. Don’t say things like that.
Every now and then, Chris would say something insightful. Something smart and funny and sweet, and it was an even bigger tease than the shirtless photos.
He continued, “The point is that to do these interviews, I need to get to know you better. Know where you live. How you live. There’s a flight this afternoon. I can be in Whitehorse tonight.”
She shot upright. “Whoa. Wait. You want to come here?”
“I need to immerse myself in you.” A low chuckle. “Er, that didn’t come out right. I think it would help to get to know you better, D. I wouldn’t be a bother. I’d just follow you around for a couple of days, watch you work, live your life, immerse myself in your creative process.”
