Page 4 of One Hot Scandal


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"You tell me every last thing I want to know." I glance around the big office, with its floor-to-ceiling windows and designer furniture. "Would you be more comfortable doing this in a relaxed setting, away from work?"

"Not sure it matters where we do this." He lowers his hand, leaning his head back against his chair. "Just get on with it."

"When did you last have sex?"

"How is that any of your business?"

"Told you. I need to know everything."

The Viscount Sommerleigh scowls at me. "My sex life is out of bounds."

"Afraid not. You gave up your right to privacy on the night you seduced a duke's wife." I settle onto the chair I'd been sitting in a moment ago and grab my portfolio, pen poised above the paper. "Why were you hanging around in a backwater pub in the middle of the northern English countryside? It's nowhere near Sommerleigh."

He puckers his lips and narrows his gaze.

Does he honestly think I've never seen the Stubborn Jackass look before? I could write a book on the subject. Instead of giving him what he wants—to annoy me, or at least to provoke me into asking more questions that will annoy him—I relax in my chair and gaze at him with a neutral expression.

When I cross my legs casually, his attention flicks down to my knees. He slides his tongue over his lips. The man is attracted to me. But that won't help him wriggle out of answering my questions.

"You're right," he says, his voice deeper and huskier. "We should go somewhere else to do this."

The man-whore wants to screw me. Like I've never experienced that phenomenon before. Male clients can't help it. Their libidos always get the better of them, and they wind up hitting on me. A few women have tried the same thing. But I don't sleep with any of my clients.

Still, when Hugh spoke in that husky tone, I felt a delicious little flutter in my tummy. Yes, I've experienced that phenomenon too. I'm only human, so of course I've suffered the odd twinge of attraction. Sexy, powerful men turn me on. Hugh doesn't seem to realize that he is powerful, in terms of his position in society and as the Viscount Sommerleigh, not to mention the fact he runs a corporation. Maybe his lack of self-awareness is part of his problem.

"Here is just fine," I tell him. "Answer my question. Why were you in a backwater pub—"

"Because I was thirsty. Have you asked Annabelle Pemberton-Rice why she was there?"

"No, and I don't plan to speak to her or the Duke. They are irrelevant to my job." Since he's clearly attracted to me, I decide to leverage that for my purposes. I uncross my legs, then cross them again, drawing his attention back to my body. "I need the truth, Lord Sommerleigh. Can't help you unless I know everything."

He taps a finger on his lips as he continues to admire my legs. "I was driving home from a trip to Scotland. The Highlands. A little village called Loch Fairbairn, to be precise."

"Why were you in Scotland? Was it a vacation?"

"Didn't Mum tell you?"

"She said you went to visit your best friend, who is Scottish. But she didn't know anything else, except that you seemed different when you came home."

"I am different." His gaze lowers as if he's staring at the floor. For a moment, he just sits there with a strangely melancholy expression. Then he straightens and aims his pale-blue eyes directly at me. "But none of that is your concern. I will not discuss my time in Scotland. Understand? It's off limits."

Okay, I've pushed him as far as I can for today. Time to move on to another subject. "Tell me about your job."

"What has that got to do with anything?"

I shrug. "Won't know until you tell me."

Hugh picks up his desk phone and punches buttons on it. "Trudy, would you please give Ms. Hahn our standard informational packet? Thank you." As he hangs up the phone, he smirks. "Soon you will know everything you never wanted to know about Sommerleigh Sweets."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it. A brochure—"

"Is all you'll get from me today." He rises, tugs his jacket down, and offers me his hand. "Good day, Ms. Hahn."

Jeez, his mood changed in an instant. Whatever happened in Scotland is clearly the source of his problems. But since he won't talk about it yet, I opt for a strategic and temporary withdrawal. This is war, and I'll need to fight many battles to get the job done.

So I get up and shake his hand. "We'll be seeing each other again very soon, Lord Sommerleigh."

He lays a hand over his heart and adopts a look of sarcastic desire. "Oh, I can't wait for that. You have stolen my heart, Ms. Hahn. Don't leave me for too long."

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