prefers to protect the up side and limit the down side of the show. Sam was nearby when he got the emergency call to go to your aid. Next time, we might not be that lucky. In other words, we’ve asked Sam to handle the show’s security with a personal touch, rather than a distant supervisory one, as he has up to this point.”
The corners of his mouth twitched slightly. “I’m your new roommate. I’m moving into the house with you.”
Meagan’s silent gasp delivered a smile to Sam’s face.
“Am I that bad?”
“There is nothing bad about any of this,” Sabrina told them, getting to her feet. “You two are going to make great ratings magic together.”
3
MEETING OVER, SAM FOLLOWED Meagan into the elevator, and the instant the doors shut, she turned to him. “You’re the head of studio security. Surely you have better things to do than babysit me and my dancers.”
He arched a brow. “That eager to get rid of me, are you?”
“The only thing great we do together is fight.”
“I guess it’s time we discover what else we do great together,” he said, leaning back to study her. “This wasn’t my decision, nor was it negotiable. If I hadn’t stepped up to the plate and assured the studio I’d contain liability while you focused on ratings, there wouldn’t be a show at all. And no matter how big a jerk you think I am, I wasn’t going to see you fail, along with everyone else associated with the show, when I could prevent it.”
She deflated instantly, her hand pressing to her stomach. “I knew they were going to cancel us.”
“But they didn’t,” he said. “You have a lifeline. We have a lifeline. Which means—” The elevator door opened, and several people were waiting to enter. “Let’s talk about this outside.”
She inhaled and nodded, and they exited the elevator. The minute Sam was in the lobby, one of his staff rushed into his path.
“Just the man I was looking for,” Josh Strong said. A twenty-eight-year-old former navy SEAL who’d gone civilian to care for a sick mother, Josh never missed a beat. Sam was damn lucky to have hired the man. “I’ve compiled that list of properties you wanted, as potentials for the dance show.”
Sam intended to involve Meagan in the conversation, but he was too late. She was already gone, on the move, speeding away from him so fast that she was leaving a trail of smoke.
“Hold on to those for a few minutes,” Sam said. “I’ll catch up with you.” He headed for Meagan with fire in his step. Avoiding him wasn’t an option if they were going to make this work, and he was done with the tiptoeing around what was between them anyway.
Sam caught up with Meagan in the parking lot, just in time to press his hand to the door of her Acura, and keep her from opening it. The wind shifted, light brown strands of vanilla-and-honey-scented hair brushing his cheek, his groin tightened uncomfortably.
“We need to talk, Meagan,” he insisted.
“Sam,” she ground out, tilting her chin up, bringing that kissable mouth inches from his. “Don’t hold my door like I’m your captive. And yes, we need to talk, but not now. I have to get back to the hotel and edit film and check on my dancers. And just so we’re straight—
you don’t get to decide when we talk or do anything. You ask, and we discuss and decide together. Got it?”
Oh yeah, he got it all right. “It” being a rush of pure male need. “Have dinner with me tonight.”
“That doesn’t sound like a question,” she rebutted.
“And if it had been a question, would you have said yes?”
She hesitated, her lashes lowering and then lifting, defiance glinting in her eyes, as she replied, “No.”
He didn’t miss the hesitation, or the fact that she hadn’t complained about his nearness—so close he could lean in and touch her as he had the night before. And he wanted to. Oh yeah, he wanted to in a bad way.
“What if I said I’m bringing the real-estate listings for the housing options?”
“That’s bribery,” she said. “You could email me the listings.”
The truth was, with their limited timeframe, he wanted to review the properties and narrow the list right away, but he didn’t tell her that. “Guilty as charged,” he agreed and pushed off the car, but he held his position close to her, soaking in the heat of her body, the scent of her hair still teasing his nostrils. “We need to have this talk. Make a truce and set some boundaries, so we can make those great ratings that you want to happen.”
“Fine, then,” she agreed. “Dinner will include a lesson on the difference between a question and an order.”
He laughed. “Fair enough.” He loved the way this woman kept him on his toes.
Her expression softened. “I do appreciate you saving the show, Sam.”
“Two thank yous in a matter of hours,” he said. “I do believe we’re making progress.”
“Short lived if you forget that I’m in control of my set, Sam, for even one moment. If you want to make changes to procedures, or anything else, you come to me. You talk to me. Then we make changes.”
“Understood,” he said willingly. “With the exception of anything I see as an immediate threat to someone’s safety.”
She inclined her head. “I can live with that.”
They gazed at each other, electricity sparking in the air. Sam leaned in, lowered his head intimately, to softly say, “I expect you’ll be surprised just how much greatness we have between us,” he said, and then he pulled back before he did something crazy and kissed her in public. Surely doing so would get him a great big smack in the face. “I’ll see you at seven.” He turned and sauntered back toward the building, feeling her eyes on him.
“Sam,” she called. “Make that seven-fifteen.”
He laughed and waved in agreement. She was letting him know nothing with her would come easily. She remained a challenge—but then anything worth having was a challenge. And Meagan was one of the most interesting, impossible-to-resist challenges he’d ever encountered.
He headed back to the offices, only to find Sabrina walking toward him, her purse and her keys in hand.
“I’ve debated telling you something,” she said, “and I don’t want it to get out.”
“I’m listening.”
“When the higher-ups green-lit Meagan’s show, they insisted on attaching a few people to it. One of them was Kiki Reynolds. You might want to keep an eye on her.”
“Could she be a real problem?”
“Could be.”
Sam
