Veronique Dubois hung on every word of Lucas Harvey's stories. The 25-year reporter was still finding it hard to believe she had snagged such a coup, landing an exclusive interview with the successful author 5 minutes of meeting him during his latest book tour.
Veronique believed that there were two things that had tipped the scales in her factor. One might have been that only Veronique, never afraid of speaking her mind, had told him "I can't say I liked your last work. I think you were pandering to your audience, giving them only what they wanted to read."
He had walked right over to her, his impressive eyes and cheekbones, that handsome face and looked straight into her dark eyes. "You are absolutely correct and bravo for having the stones to tell me to my face. I wanted to rework it, but the publishers wanted it on their time and so ..." His voice trailed off. "I hope my readers ... and you ... will enjoy my latest novel, it won't be done for 3 years, I told them no deadlines β it's done when it's done."
She smiled back at him and that, she believed, might have been reason # 2. Wavy auburn hair combined with the face of a fashion model, dazzling smile, disarming wit and a body dressed in the latest fashion. Veronique Dubois might have been assigned a job as a reporter for a prestigious fashion show, but her editors soon realized she wrote with a flair that was usually only found in seasoned reporters. True, her family had
money
β more than they knew what to do with, yet she worked with a first determination, she had earned every accolade that came her way. She had no illusions that did get her foot in the door a number of times with her stunning good looks. Veronique was a beautiful woman and she didn't hide her light under a bushel.
Veronique was also a lot less flighty than many of her contemporaries. She was fascinated by fascinating people and when intrigued, she did her research. That was not lost on Lucas, her questions had been well thought out and probing. Lucas was impressed by the young reporter and that did not happen to him often.
There was another impressive fact about the young reporter that was impossible to ignore β she was beautiful and totally aware of her looks, yet she was almost blasΓ© about them. Her clothes were sexy without being trampy and you could tell they were expensive, likely all designer labels. Veronique wasn't flaunting them nor was she hiding them either β it was all just a part of who she was.
Lucas realized that he had been staring at her gorgeous legs and not concentrating on her question when she flashed him an enigmatic smile and crossed her legs in the other direction. He thought that he had caught a glimpse of real stockings and garters underneath her skirt and believed he was right. That seemed like something that this young woman would do.
Veronique had caught him looking and was flattered that she had caught his attention. She knew that she was attractive, of course, but Lucas Harvey had likely been around a bevy of gorgeous women in his life. She was glad that she had dressed well, but she made sure to listen. With every question she asked, she lowered her voice, made it softer and much sultrier. She was determined if he was giving her this kind of attention, she was going to enjoy it to the fullest β and she
was
.
Veronique determined that she had enough background material for a great article, so she decided as much as she didn't want to, she should likely close out the interview. "What do you think is your highest accomplishment?" She asked him, curious to know the answer.
"I don't know quite how to answer that," He answered after giving it some thought for a few minutes. "Perhaps I can find out in a few minutes."
"I beg your pardon?" Veronique said, puzzled.
"My highest accomplishment will be having dinner with you β that is, if you say yes," He smiled.
"Of course, yes, I'd love to," Veronique said, almost babbling. "I don't know why you'd invite me, I'm sure that you must know several lovely, fascinating women that you could invite, but I'd be a fool to turn down such a lovely invitation."
"I do happen to know several intriguing women, but none of them can hold a candle to you," Lucas told her. "You're witty and charming and very attractive and you pay attention when someone is speaking. It's very refreshing and I like it very much." His agent was walking towards them, indicating that the book party was nearing an end. "Meet me back here in about 90 minutes, I have a few things to finish up and then we'll go and have our meal."
Veronique smiled and then she nearly ran home as fast as her legs would carry her. She was having a date with Lucas Harvey, she was having a date with
Lucas Harvey
. She rummaged through her wardrobe, rejecting outfits as too slinky, too casual, not right for the season before settling on a light blue, short dress that revealed her legs and clung to her like cellophane. She
wanted
Lucas to like her for her mind but she certainly didn't
mind
if he noticed her body as well. That's what she believed it was there for, to be noticed by men β and Lucas was about as much man as a girl could handle.
She arrived back a few minutes ahead of schedule and when she saw the look on his face, Veronique knew that she had chosen the right outfit. He said his goodbyes and escorted her to his car. She smiled and said to him "You have a Bugatti."
He smiled and said "You recognize it, most girls wouldn't. It's a Veyron 16.4, I've always wanted one and now I can afford it β one of the perks of success," He told Veronique.
"My father has 3 classic Bugattis," Veronique smiled as she got in the car. Lucas didn't know what to make of this enigmatic, sexy reporter with the bedroom eyes and the expensive clothes. She was an enigma to him.
As they entered the restaurant, he finally said "May I ask YOU a question? You obviously come from a family with a fair bit of money, so why are you working as a reporter?"
She sat at their table and crossed her legs, making sure that he got a good look at the length and shape of them. "I've always loved to write Lucas and I love to learn things and have never been afraid to ask questions. My family pays a lot of my bills, but they don't pay all of them. I wanted to do a job where my money didn't matter and this fell into my lap. I've met some fascinating, successful people and you're among the latest. Why do you do all the things you do? You tried β unsuccessfully - to climb the Eiffel Tower, you've run with the bulls in Pamplona, you've been in several war zones; you've talked to the heads of several different countries. Most of your books have been highly controversial. What is the reason for that?"
Lucas was more impressed with the auburn-haired reporter with every passing second. "I've been a thrill seeker since I was 5 and jumped off the roof of the garage into a snow bank," He smiled. "I'm damned lucky I didn't break anything, but I still like a challenge. The ordinary, the routine, it doesn't interest me. My family are professionals, lawyers and doctors and the like. That wasn't for me, I wanted to see the world, write about it, photograph it, tell my stories in fact and fiction."
"So, your last book β why was it so dull?" She asked, just before their waiter arrived. They ordered drinks and she looked over at him, expecting an answer.
She got one and it wasn't what she expected. "I think β I think that I had lost a bit of my passion, I wrote a book just to make deadline and that isn't like me," He answered honestly. "The editors needed a book, they got a book. The public seems to like it, but you didn't, not even a little?"
Veronique shook her head, brushing auburn locks from her face. "No β I've read all of your books and you're right, this one lacked passion. It was technically proficient, you told the story well, but it just didn't engage me the way that your other works have."
"I'm glad that you enjoy my other works, at least," Lucas said, motioning to the waiter and ordering himself another drink. Veronique declined a second.
"So, what happened?" Veronique asked him. "What is it that killed your passion, Lucas?"
"You're going to laugh," He groaned, slugging back the last of his first drink and believing he'd need the second.
"I'll try not to and this is all off the record," Veronique told him, putting her hand on top of his. He had never felt skin that soft in his life.
"I'm
lonely