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“For the record, I’ve never whistled Dixie in my life, with or without a woman.”
“Good to know.” She raised her eyebrows. “So who was she?”
Though Sam had known a number of knockout brunettes in his lifetime, his agent was the only one who’d fly out from New York to visit him. Not that he could tell Brooke the details of their relationship, though again, part of him wanted to.
“Lynette,” he said. “She’s just a friend.”
“Hmm.” Skepticism creased her forehead. “What about thenot whistling Dixie?”
“No idea. I might have given Lynette a hug and a kiss on the cheek when she arrived. Does that count as not whistling Dixie?”
“I’m not exactly sure.” Brooke pursed her lips in thought. “For Mrs. Higgins, probably. I think the rest of us were imagining something a lot more salacious.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“I’m not disappointed.” With a little shrug, she reached down and tugged a flowered blanket around her legs before settling back down. “What’s Lynette’s favorite food?”
“I have no idea.”
Their eyes met. A current of heat shot through the air. She was lying with her head on a purple pillow, her long brown hair spread out like silk. He curled his hand into a fist, fighting the urge to run his fingers through all those thick strands.
“You knew my favorite food,” she murmured.
“Like I said…lucky guess.”
“I’ll bet.”
A slight smile curved her mouth. The firelight created a reddish glow on her pale skin. Her soft, luscious body made him want to cuddle her, strip her naked, and devour her all at the same time. Before he could give in to one of those urges—or all three—he pushed himself upright. “I’ll get out of here so you can sleep.”
“You’re going to end up in serious pain if you try and sleep on the sofa again.” She grabbed one of the pillows. “You can sleep here. There’s plenty of room, even with your…er, size.”
Of all the bad ideas Sam had heard in his life, this one topped the list. He pushed aside the blankets hanging beside him. “Not necessary, but thanks. Go to sleep.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep knowing you’re so uncomfortable.”
“Give it a shot.”
“Sam.” She clucked her tongue. “I know you’re trying to be chivalrous, but I’m not a princess. In fact, I sleep like a hibernating bear. Nothing can wake me up. Plus, this bed is the size of an ocean liner, so I promise there won’t be any physical contact. Now lie down and go to sleep.”
He groaned inwardly. “If I don’t, you’re going to threaten karaoke, aren’t you?”
“Worse.” She narrowed her eyes. “Operakaraoke.”
“You are ruthless.”
“That’s why I’m a good reporter.”
He studied her for a second, struck by the contrast between her cute, chirpy personality and her dogged journalistic side. Before he could give in to his curiosity with more questions, he lay back down.
“Good night.” Brooke wiggled around getting comfortable.
Even with his eyes closed, he was acutely aware of every miniscule movement. He could picture her breasts swaying under her thin shirt. Her thick hair brushed against his arm. Her hip bumped his.
Snapping his eyes open, he grabbed more pillows and jammed them into the space between them.
She twisted to look over her shoulder at him. “What are you doing?”
“Building a wall.” He shoved another pillow down by their legs.
