Mr. Right Now. Kate Hoffmann

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he asked, pointing to the coffee-stained papers.

      Nina nodded. “It was. I’ve got a special project I’ve been assigned. I’ve been working on it all day.”

      â€œAnd where do you work?” he asked, already knowing the answer. He felt guilty even bringing up the subject of her job, considering his position, but it was a safe subject for two people who barely knew each other.

      â€œI’m the head of research for Attitudes,” she said. “It’s a weekly magazine. Our offices are right across the street.”

      He couldn’t help but smile at the embellished job title. Still, he was secretly pleased that she was trying to impress him. “Attitudes?”

      â€œHave you ever heard of it?” She forced a smile. “I suppose not. I mean, you’re not really our type—our reader—I mean, our demographic.”

      â€œAnd why is that?” Cameron asked.

      â€œWell, you’re a little too…”

      He waited as she groped for a polite way to say conservative. “Tall?” he asked. Her blush deepened and she shook her head. “Too stubborn? That’s always been a problem.” She shook her head again. “Or maybe I’m too clumsy?”

      Nina laughed. “The word we’d use around the office might be ‘conservative.’ Not that that’s a bad thing. It’s just not our demographic.”

      â€œGee, I thought you were about to say I was too handsome or too charming.”

      â€œMaybe I should have,” she murmured, sending him a coy look over the rim of her coffee mug. “So, what do you do?”

      â€œI’m in…computers,” Cameron said.

      â€œI could have guessed that,” Nina commented. “I mean, from the way you were dressed when we first met. You looked like a businessman.”

      A long silence grew between them and Cameron fought the sudden urge to lean across the table and kiss her, simply to see if her lips tasted as good as they looked. Instead, he grabbed the next handiest subject. “Tell me about this project you’re working on.” Cameron pointed to the papers. “You said it was important?” He picked up his mug and took a sip of his coffee.

      â€œThere’s not much to it,” Nina replied. “I’m supposed to find out everything I can about some guy named Cameron Ryder.”

      A sudden cough burst from his throat and he sucked in a deep breath, the coffee going down the wrong way. Nina’s brow furrowed in concern and she reached out and patted him on the shoulder. “Are you all right?”

      He nodded. “It’s just a little hot,” he said, his eyes watering. “So, what have you found out about this guy?”

      â€œI spent all day on the Net, downloading what I could about his company, NightRyder. But the guy who runs it keeps a pretty low profile. If I had to guess I’d say he’s some hard-hearted, ruthless businessman who buys up companies for sport, putting good people out of work, and he keeps a low profile so none of the employees he puts out of work can run over him with a bus.”

      â€œHe sounds like a real bastard,” Cameron said.

      â€œThis NightRyder, it’s a news and information site. Very trendy, very popular with our magazine’s demographic. He wants to buy Attitudes and turn himself into some media mogul. My boss doesn’t want to sell.”

      â€œAnd what else have you learned?”

      â€œNot much. I can’t even find a photo of the guy, except for this.” She slid a paper over towards him. “It’s his high school graduation picture. He looks like kind of a geek. But I guess even geeks can turn into bastards given enough power and money.”

      Cameron winced inwardly. Damn, he hated when that picture surfaced in the media. He’d done his best to stay out of the glare of the paparazzi, avoiding photographers like the plague. But for lack of a more current photo, they always trotted out the senior picture—the pimply-faced, pencil-necked doofus with the thick glasses. And he was once again faced with a reminder of the first eighteen years of his life.

      But there was one advantage to the photo. There was no way Nina Forrester would recognize him. Hell, he barely recognized himself. “He doesn’t look very ruthless to me. He looks like the kind of kid who eats paste and spends most of his day stuffed in a locker. See there,” he said, pointing to the picture. “He’s got louver marks on his forehead.”

      She snatched the picture away from him and put it back in her folder. “If he buys the magazine, I’ll probably be out of a job.” Nina shook her head. “But I really don’t want to think about that now.” The gloomy look dissolved from her face and she smiled again. “Why don’t we talk about something else? You know, I don’t even know your name.”

      Cameron opened his mouth, about to introduce himself, then thought better of it. She already believed him to be a ruthless bastard. If he told her who he really was she might just heave the rest of her coffee in his face. “And I don’t know your name,” he said, surprised with his smooth reply.

      â€œIt’s Nina. Nina Forrester.”

      She held out her hand and he took it, grasping her delicate fingers with his. A current of electricity shot through his arm, warming his blood. How could a simple touch affect him so strongly? He wanted to lace his fingers with hers and bring them to his lips. He noticed that she was wearing green nail polish to match the deep green of her satin jacket. He liked it, even though it was an odd color. Odd looked good on her. When he felt her gently tug her fingers away, he let go.

      â€œWhat about you?” she asked after a long silence.

      â€œMe? I don’t usually wear nail polish.”

      Nina giggled and gave him an odd look. “What’s your name?”

      â€œOh, it’s…Wright,” he said, taking the first name that came to mind while still completely captivated by her eyes. After all, that’s who she was looking for, wasn’t it?

      â€œRight?” she asked. “Like Mr. Right? R-I-G-H-T?”

      He shook his head. “W-R- Like Wilbur and Orville. I think we might even be related.”

      Her brow arched. “And do you have a first name? Or would you prefer I call you Mister?”

      â€œJack. Jack Wright.”

      â€œIt’s nice to finally meet you, Jack Wright.”

      Suddenly, he didn’t want to talk about her work. He wanted to find out much more about this enchanting woman sitting in front of him. He wanted to listen to her voice and watch the lively play of emotion on her face as she spoke. He wanted to lose himself in her brilliant blue eyes and warm himself beneath

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