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Joseph fell serious. “It’s because you’re a good person, Eleanor… Will you re-consider your decision to work for Blair Robertson?”
“Is that an official question?”
“No. Just one for you to think about.”
“Okay, I’ll think about it. Anything else?”
“Yeah, just one more question.”
“Uh-huh?”
He reached out and linked his fingers through hers. “I know it’s early days, but… would you like to come to dinner at my brother’s house tonight? I’d love everyone to meet you.”
She grinned, feeling deeply honoured. “Thank you. I’d love to meet your family.”
They held eye contact, allowing the significance of the moment to swirl around them and bind them together.
Eleanor wanted to kiss him, but she had a feeling Sasha and Ashok were listening at the door. “So… is that the end of the interview?”
“Yeah. This interviewer stuff is harder than I realised. I don’t think I’ve got anything useful down.”
She stood up to look. “Show me.”
He turned the notepad towards her. He’d sketched a picture of a guitar.
She laughed. “That would be very impressive if this was an art class.”
He reached out and drew her onto his lap, sending molten lust through her body. “I guess you’d better interview me,” he said. “You’re better at it than I am.”
She kissed him on the lips as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “And I think the readers might prefer hearing about you.”
He nuzzled her neck, turning her on. “You’re not really going back to Press HQ, are you?”
She sighed. “It’s the only way he’ll let me work for his broadsheet. This tabloid thing, it’s just one story.”
“I know, but there must be a better way to get a story on the front page without dragging Pierre down. Can’t you go back to the drawing board and think of something else?”
“God, I wish you weren’t so bloody moral, Joseph Quinlan!”
He kissed her. “Nah, you wish you weren’t. I’m starting to get to know who you really are, Ellie.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. And you’re helping me to rediscover who I am. Just by being you.”
She grinned. “That’s such a nice thing to say. And I feel the same. Being with you… It’s like I’m softening, but in a good way. Like sponge-cake.”
He laughed at the strange analogy, then he fell serious. “I just want to… I don’t know… reconnect with some lost part of me. When I’m with you I feel like that part of me is pulled to the surface. You make me feel myself.”
They both laughed at his last comment. “I’m sure I have that effect on lots of men!”
“I’ve no doubt!” He hugged her tight. “Come on; let’s get this interview done for real, then I’ll give you a ride.”
Chapter Twelve
Eleanor sat in Joseph’s toasty four-by-four as he pulled into the parking garage at his apartment. She twisted to face him. “What are we doing here? You said you’d give me a ride.”
He threw her a grin. “I plan to.”
