issuing an apology. “I shouldn’t have gone to Chapman. But you didn’t leave me any choice. I have to do this story and I needed you to go with me.”
“Why me?” Savannah demanded quietly, finally getting to the heart of the matter. “Why not Claire or Whitney? Why did it have to be me?”
“Because I…” Knox swallowed, strangely reluctant to finish the thought.
“Because you what?” Savannah persisted.
He finally blew out a breath. “Because I couldn’t take anyone with me who might be attracted to me. Or that I might be attracted to.”
Slack-jawed, for a moment Savannah was too stunned to be insulted. She managed a smirk, even as dismay mushroomed inside her belly. “That irresistible, are you?”
“No, not to you,” he huffed impatiently. His cheeks reddened. “You don’t have any trouble at all resisting me. Hell, you’ve made a point of ensuring that I know just how resistible to you I am. You were the only logical choice. We have to stay focused, to remain objective. If I had asked any other woman at the Phoenix to make this trip with me, then you know as well as I do that they would have considered it a come-on. An invitation for seduction.” He smiled without humor. “Did that occur to you?”
Savannah had readied her mouth for a cool put-down, but found herself curiously unable to come up with one. He was right. The idea of him wanting to seduce her had never crossed her mind—she’d been too worried about how hard it would be not to seduce him.
She’d known that he’d never been romantically interested in her—she’d purposely cultivated a hate-hate relationship with him to avoid that very scenario. Savannah knew she should be pleased with how well her plan had worked, but she found herself perversely unable to work up any enthusiasm for her success. He’d chosen her because she’d led him to believe that she wasn’t attracted to him and because he, by his own admission, wasn’t attracted to her.
All of that effort for this…this nightmare.
Irony could be a class-A bitch, Savannah thought wearily.
“Are we going to be able to get past this and work together?” he asked.
Savannah heaved a put-upon sigh. “Yeah…so long as you don’t pull a show-and-tell session with your ‘wand of light.’” She inwardly harrumphed. Didn’t look like that would be a problem. And she was happy about it, dammit. This was a good thing. Really. She didn’t want him to be attracted to her, any more than she wanted to be attracted to him.
Knox grinned, one of those baby-the-things-I-could-do-to-you smiles that made a woman’s brain completely lose reason—including hers. “Let’s make a deal. I won’t show you mine unless you show me yours.”
Savannah smirked, even as she suppressed a shiver. “Well, that’ll be simple enough—I don’t have a ‘wand of light.’” She nodded succinctly. “Deal.”
A sexy chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Deal.”
3
“ARE YOU READY to discuss our cover?” Knox asked, when he’d finally navigated the rental car out onto the busy freeway.
He would have liked to cover everything while in the air where she couldn’t have done him any bodily injury, but after his bungled apology, she’d feigned sleep for the rest of the flight. Knox didn’t feel quite as safe in the car and he grimly suspected she wasn’t going to care for the cover story he’d devised for the two of them. He’d made the mistake of filling out the application and accompanying questionnaire while still angry with her. Knox winced as he recalled the uncharitable things he’d had to say about his “wife’s” shortcomings in bed.
She’d undoubtedly kill him.
Savannah fished her sunglasses from her purse and slid them into place. She’d dressed for travel in a sleeveless sky-blue linen pantsuit that perfectly matched the startling shade of her eyes and showed her small, curvy form to advantage. She wore simple diamond studs in her ears and her short black locks were delightfully mussed. Her lipstick had worn off hours ago, but refreshingly unlike most females, she didn’t seem to mind.
Knox was still trying to decide how much to tell her about their cover story when she said, “Sure, go ahead and fill me in.”
He swallowed and strove for a nonchalant tone. “We’re registered as Mr. and Mrs. Knox Weston. Your first name is Barbie. We’ve been having a little—”
“Barbie?”
Knox winced at her shrill exclamation. “That’s right.”
With a withering smirk, she crossed her arms over her chest and turned to face him. “And why is my first name Barbie?”
Knox cast about his paralyzed mind for some sort of plausible lie, but couldn’t come up with anything halfway believable and settled for the truth. “Because I was pissed and knew you would hate it.” He threw her a sidelong glance and was pleased that he’d been able to—it meant that he still had his eyes and she hadn’t scratched them out yet. “It was a petty thrill. I regret it now, of course,” he quickly imparted at her venomous look. “But what’s done is done and I can’t very well tell them that I’ve made a mistake, that I didn’t know my own wife’s name.” He forced a chuckle. “That would look pretty odd.”
Looking thoroughly put out, Savannah studied him until Knox was hard-pressed not to squirm. “A petty thrill, eh?” She humphed. “Is there anything else—besides my name—that you might have falsely reported about me? Anything else I should know about?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “Er—”
“Knox…” Savannah said threateningly.
Knox considered taking the next exit. If she went ballistic and attacked him, he didn’t want any innocent bystanders to be hurt. “Well, just for the sake of our cover, you understand, they, uh…might think that you’re frigid and unable to reach climax.”
Knox heard her outraged gasp and tensed, readied himself for a blow.
“Well, that can be easily explained,” she said frostily, “when I tell them that you’re a semi-impotent premature ejaculator.”
Knox quailed and resisted the natural urge to adjust himself, to assure himself that everything was in working order. “Well, I—I can hardly see where that will b-be necessary,” he croaked. “One of us had to have a problem or we wouldn’t have needed the workshop in the first place.” A good, rational argument, Knox thought, congratulating himself.
She laughed. “Oh, I see. And I just had to be the one with the problem? Why couldn’t you have been the one with the problem?”
“Because I—”
She chuckled. “Because you’re such a stud that the idea of your equipment not passing muster—even fictitiously—was too much for your poor primitive male mind to comprehend. How pathetically juvenile.” She smiled. “Do continue. We’ll be there soon and I want to make sure that I’m completely in character.”
Knox frowned at the words “pathetically juvenile,” but under the circumstances, he let it pass. He cleared his throat
