“Instead, I’m going to… What are you staring at?”
“Your hair,” he said instantly, without thought. “It’s—”
“Burned. Yeah, I know. You’re such a jerk.” Whipping her hand to her temple, she tousled her hair. And that little movement just about killed him. “Stop staring.”
His lips twitched, but he kept the grin from emerging. “How did you manage to burn your hair? I envision you doing acrobatics with a flaming torch or juggling lit candles.”
“That is none of your business.”
“I bet you’d look hot. With a torch. Doing cartwheels.”
The barest glint of humor sparkled in her honey-brown eyes. In a snap, she masked her amusement behind the sharp glare of annoyance. “Do you know what you are, Jace Foster?”
“Your hero?” He stretched his arms, gave a lazy yawn and tucked his hands behind his head. “Thanks aren’t necessary. I’m happy to be of service.”
She blinked those fabulous eyes in shock…anger? Hell if he knew. Maybe it spoke badly of him to purposely put her off balance, but he loved getting a reaction out of her. Mostly because those were the only times she seemed to notice him.
“Hero?” she said, her voice low and dangerously even. That surprised him. He’d be a liar if he said it also didn’t worry him. “Where in that thickheaded, egotistical skull of yours do you think I’d consider you a hero for butting into my business?”
“That would be my brain, Mel. The frontal lobe, to be specific.” He almost winked again, but feared that might be pushing his luck. “In case you are unaware, that is where reasoning takes place…along with a whole bunch of other stuff.”
“Well, I’d say your frontal lobe is severely damaged,” she snapped. Bright spots of pink colored her cheeks. “You’re a conceited, know-it-all, cocky, pushy dog of a man who uses his sex appeal and charisma to get what he wants.” She pointed her finger at him and took one long step forward. “And I’m here to tell you that your charm and…and…stupid, sexy smile don’t work on me.”
“You know,” he drawled, going for light and easy. “Somewhere in the middle there were several compliments. I’m flattered you think of me so highly.”
“Compliments?” With two taps on her forehead, she said, “Yep. Your frontal lobe is definitely out of whack. Might want to consider scheduling a doctor’s appointment before you completely lose touch with reality.”
Counting off on his fingers, Jace said, “Sex appeal. Charisma. Charm. Sexy smile. Oh, and cocky. I count that as five compliments. Though I suppose charisma and charm could count as one, but you used both so I say two.”
He watched in part humor, part dread as the pink flush darkened to a scalding red. Embarrassment, temper or both? “I’m curious,” Melanie said. “Were you always this full of yourself or is this attitude a recent change in your behavior?”
“Hey, you’re the one who said I had a sexy smile.” Then, knowing he shouldn’t, but not able to stop himself, he said, “And I did save your job, so perhaps a ‘Thank you, Jace’ might be in order after all.”
“It was my problem to deal with. Not yours.” She stepped forward another few paces. “I don’t appreciate that you took it upon yourself to speak with Kurt about me. About my job. I’m a big girl, Jace. My mistakes are my mistakes. I don’t need a man swooping in to clean up after me.” Her gaze fixed on him. If he hadn’t been watching her closely, he would’ve missed the way her chin trembled. “I don’t need a hero.”
There was hurt there, he realized. The gleam of it trebled in her voice, glittered in her expression. He hadn’t expected that. He didn’t know how to deal with that. “He was going to fire you, Mel. I wanted to help.”
“I don’t need a hero,” she repeated. Oh, crap. Her eyes had a definite watery glow.
Jace swung his legs off of his desk. It was time to reel this in, before she burst into tears. He couldn’t handle when a woman cried. Any woman. If Melanie cried, he was pretty sure he’d give her anything she wanted to make her stop. His car, his house, all of the money in his bank account…his still-beating heart. Whatever it took.
“Look,” he said calmly, “this wasn’t about playing hero. I was planning on talking to you today about doing that Valentine’s Day feature together. And then I read your column.”
Melanie angled her arms across her chest. “So you went to Kurt why?”
“Because I knew he’d be ticked.” Jace shrugged. “I actually like when you go all crazy-man-hater woman in your column, but Kurt doesn’t. We couldn’t do the article together if you were fired, so I stepped in.”
“I don’t hate men. I just don’t—”
“Trust them. Yeah, you’ve made that clear.”
“I have never met a man worth trusting.” Her eyes rounded, as if she hadn’t meant to disclose that information. There was a story there, Jace knew. Come hell or high water, he was going to find out what that story was.
But for now, all he said was “You’ve met him now.”
“That remains to be seen.” She huffed out a breath. “You should know I hate this. I accepted the stipulations because being out of work would cause more problems than dealing with you. But I’m not going to date you. I’m not going to sleep with you. I’m not interested in anything but a professional relationship with you. You need to be clear on that going in.”
Her voice held steel, but her eyes were still too shiny for Jace’s comfort. So he didn’t point out that she sounded as if she were trying to convince herself and not him. “Any other rules before we start earning our salaries?”
She slicked her palms down the front of her jeans. “You understand that I’m serious?”
“No dating. No sex. Yep, I understand.” Opening his top desk drawer, he pulled out two legal pads. With a nod toward a chair, he said, “Take a seat. We have a lot to talk about.”
“And here we go,” she murmured and sat down. “I really hate this.”
“Working with me is really that bad?” He shoved one of the pads and a pencil across the desk.
“Well, see…that’s the thing. I’m not working with you. You’re in charge. Kurt was quite adamant on that front.”
Ah. That was what was bugging her. The frustration bubbling through him eased. “I don’t care what Kurt said. We’re partners…okay? I’m not going to order you around or ask you to answer my phone or get me coffee. As far as I’m concerned, we’re equals.”
“Hmm.” Her right eyebrow arched. “Except you get to review anything I write, and if you decide something should be changed, I have to change it. Doesn’t sound so equal to me.”
Overseeing Melanie’s work hadn’t been Jace’s idea, so he had no problem saying “How about this? We’ll just pretend I’m supervising your damn column. Just stay away from the man-hating
