Exclusive / a Touch of Heaven

by Samantha Chase

  “Oh, yeah,” she said with self-loathing, “you’ve still got it.”

  She didn’t have it in her to work, so instead she rose wearily from the bed and headed for the private en suite, drawing herself a bubble bath. Not that it was going to clear her mind, but at least she could unwind in luxury.

  “No,” she admonished herself, “it is going get your mind clearer.” She was not here to play catchup with Mike Greene. No matter how great he looked. And kissed. And felt. “Dammit.” No, she was here to do a no-holds-barred interview with Jonathan Wade. And she had to remember that at all costs.

  Tomorrow she would need to keep things professional with Mike. No more talks about the past, no more cozy meals together, and certainly no more kissing. Maybe. She didn’t want to jump to any rash decisions and then regret them, so she put kissing on the shelf for now.

  She needed to start gathering some real information—the kind that was going to make this article a must-read for every fan of Wade’s.

  Why had she lost sight of her goal? Excitement from the day and lack of sleep all week were catching up with her—that’s what it must be. Mike was here to help her get the information she needed for her job.

  As she lowered her body into the steamy water, she allowed herself one more moment to think about Mike’s kiss. She sighed. Who was she kidding? If he knocked on the door right now, she’d willingly tackle him onto her bed and forget about the damn interview, her job, everything.

  But he wasn’t going to knock. And tomorrow was another day.

  * * *

  Saturday morning was gray and bleak. Taylor kicked the warm blankets off and strode over to the large bay window to look out at the new day. Nature didn’t look quite so friendly today. Even though her room was warm and toasty, she could tell the air outside was cold and brisk. She had a good view of the farm’s property from this window and looked around for any signs of Mike. “Get a grip,” she murmured as she snapped the curtains shut and forced herself away.

  “Focus today,” she chanted as she reached into one of her bags and pulled her iPod out to listen to one of Wade’s books. The voice in the audiobooks always seemed to soothe her. She had already listened to this one, but as she relaxed on the bed and pressed play, it hit her—she was listening to Mike’s voice! Groaning, she ripped the earbuds from her ears and threw the iPod across the room. Great!

  Taylor padded across the room to retrieve it. “I’m pathetic,” she said as she picked it up, put her earbuds back in, and went back to lie down. There wasn’t time to listen to the entire book, but listening to the first chapter put things into perspective for her. Work. She was here to work. Not to play with Mike. And his sexy voice.

  “Okay, no more!” she said as she threw the iPod again. “I’m done!” Jumping off the bed, she stormed into the bathroom to shower and get dressed. The entire time she was getting ready, she reprimanded herself for her lack of professionalism, thinking of what her editor would say if she found out that Taylor had spent the night making out with Jonathan Wade’s assistant rather than getting information about Jonathan Wade.

  “I’d be fired in an instant,” she said to her reflection as she applied her makeup. When that thought got her heart rate going—and not in the sexy way it had last night—she reminded herself of why she was here. “Jonathan Wade wanted you and only you for this interview. He obviously thinks your writing is good and he trusts you with this monumental task. You will be witty and charming as well as firm with your questioning. You’re here for the next week to get a broad picture of the author so you will be well-prepared for when you face him.”

  A quick nod finalized the thought. Looking at the mirror, she was pleased with what she saw: her hair hung loose about her shoulders and she had popped her contacts back in today. With a touch of makeup, she felt she looked fresh and a lot less tired than she had the day before.

  Not knowing what was in store for her today, she dressed casually in jeans and a sweater. For all she knew they were going to stay in the house and talk, but just in case Mike wanted to take her out and show her around the town or some of his boss’s favorite places, she wanted to make sure she was dressed warmly enough.

  The clock read nine, and on a working farm, she was rising pretty late. No doubt Mike had already put in several hours at the barn or on the property. She skipped down the stairs and headed straight to the kitchen to grab some breakfast.

  Taylor didn’t hesitate to put on a pot of coffee. She had no idea if Mike drank it, but she needed it to start her day. Once it was brewing, she looked through the window and saw Mike walking out of the barn. There was no way to avoid him—not that she wanted to—so she decided to act as if last night hadn’t happened.

  Stepping outside onto the side porch, she called out to him and waved. Mike strolled over and looked up at her from three steps below. “Good morning,” he said with an easy smile. “Did you sleep okay?”

  “Yes, thank you.” She couldn’t help the blush in her cheeks. Hearing his voice after discovering it was the same one that had been washing over her all week was enough to make her skin burn hot. “I’m making some coffee and wanted to know if you wanted any.”

  If anything, his smile grew. “Sure. Thanks,” he said as he climbed the stairs. Opening the door, he let Taylor enter the warmth first. The coffee smelled good, and he watched as Taylor moved about the kitchen as if she’d lived there for years. “Have you been up long?”

  She shook her head. “Maybe an hour. I realized with this being a working farm, you’ve probably been up since dawn.”

  He chuckled. “Close. Luckily, we have a great staff here, so it’s not necessary for me to be out there with them every minute. I was going to ask you last night if you wanted to get up early and see what morning on the farm is like, but I figured you might enjoy sleeping in.”

  She nodded. “I did. I did so much this week to prepare that I haven’t slept a lot. I pretty much crashed as soon as my head hit the pillow last night.” Liar, liar, liar! Leaning against the counter, Taylor looked around for something to do while they waited for the coffee.

  “If you’re hungry, there’s plenty of breakfast foods to choose from. Please, help yourself.”

  “I’m not much of a breakfast person,” she confessed as she set out the mugs and reached into the refrigerator for milk. On a lower shelf, she spotted some yogurt and decided one little cup of yogurt couldn’t hurt. Closing the door, she waved it at Mike. “Something like this is perfect.”

  Mike poured them each their coffee and then joined Taylor at the table. “Have you explored the house yet? It’s quite impressive.”

  “I am curious to see the whole thing, but I wouldn’t feel right doing that on my own. Exploring the property with you yesterday was fine, because it was all outdoors. I think going through someone’s home is a little too personal when they’re not actually at home.”

  “Well then, lucky for you that I’m done with what I needed to do out in the barn.”

  Taylor looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

  “How about as soon as we’re done with our coffee—and your yogurt—we take the grand tour?”

  Her eyes went wide. “Seriously? He won’t mind?”

  Mike relaxed back in his seat and laughed. “Taylor, he invited you here. He didn’t expect you to sit only in the kitchen or your bedroom. He’s actually very proud of this place and likes to show it off from time to time.”

  That piqued her interest. “But from everything I’ve learned about him—which isn’t much—Jonathan Wade is fairly reclusive. Who would he show the house off to?”

  Mike shrugged. “He is reclusive to the public by Hollywood’s standards. But believe it or not, he does have friends.”

  “They must be good friends if they haven’t outed him to some magazine or tabloid by now.”

  “He’s very selective.” Mike left i
t at that and waited to see if Taylor would ask any more questions. When she didn’t, he leaned on the table and got a little closer to her. “So, what do you say? You up for the tour?”

  She was cursing the damn yogurt. “Five minutes and then I promise I’ll be done,” she said and began to eat furiously.

  “Taylor,” he said softly with a chuckle, “the house isn’t going anywhere and we’ve got all day together. Take your time and eat.”

  She was thankful he wasn’t staring at her while she finished, and as soon as she’d taken her last spoonful, she stood and threw out the container as if she was making one of those winning basketball shots. With hands in the air, she said, “Done!”

  Mike stood and clapped as she did a mini victory lap around the center island, and when she came to stand beside him, he couldn’t help but smile. “That was awesome.”

  “I know, I know,” she gushed. She bounced on her toes in excitement. “Can we start the tour?”

  “Do you want your camera or recorder or anything?”

  “Hmm.” She considered the possibilities. “Are you suggesting there may be things in the house that will be newsworthy for the article?”

  Sticking his hands in his pockets, he tilted his head toward hers. “Maybe.”

  “Dang it,” she muttered before racing from the room to get her equipment. Mike met her at the foot of the stairs and waited as she took a minute to catch her breath. When she finished fidgeting with her hair, and then the camera, and then the recorder, she looked up at him expectantly.

  “Are you sure you’re ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.” For two solid hours, Mike took her through every inch of the farmhouse. There were antiques, beautiful pieces of artwork, and of course tons and tons of books. Jonathan Wade’s library was to be envied and it rivaled the one from Beauty and the Beast. Wade seemed to have books on every subject and in every genre. When Taylor noticed that he had his own books on the shelves, she turned to Mike.

  “Please tell me something about him,” she pleaded. “I mean, I know you’ve been showing me around the house and telling me why he chose a certain piece of art or furniture, but I’d like to hear something personal. I need something to tie me to this man whose home I’m in. Does that make sense?” Her big blue eyes were filled with hope as she asked the question.

  “He likes his privacy,” he said simply.

  “I knew that, Mike! Hell, everyone knows that,” she said as she placed a book back on the shelf. “Is he young? Old? What does he look like?”

  “Oh, now, that stuff I can’t tell you. What I can say is that he loves to read all types of writing—whether it’s books, magazines, cereal boxes…” They shared a laugh. “His real interest of late is in new writers. He feels privileged that he had been given a chance when he was a young, struggling writer and likes to see the potential in others.”

  “Is that why he chose me for this assignment?” she asked, mesmerized by the thought.

  “Yes.” Mike’s gaze locked with Taylor’s.

  She could get lost in those deep blue depths. “I hope I don’t disappoint him,” she said, her voice husky to the point that she barely recognized it. With inches between them, Taylor began to sway, to get closer, when her cell phone rang. She had grabbed it along with her other devices in case Victoria or anyone from her office called. Stepping back, she murmured an apology before answering. “Hello?”

  “Is this Ms. Scott?” a male voice asked.

  “Yes,” she said hesitantly. “Who is this?”

  “Ms. Scott, this is Tom Levinson. Mr. Wade’s attorney? I believe we spoke briefly earlier this week.”

  She nodded. “Yes, sir. We did. How can I help you?”

  “It seems we missed a signature on one of the documents. My assistant is going to email it for you to sign. We’ll need it back before your interview with Mr. Wade begins.”

  “Oh, okay. That shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Excellent. Thank you. Is Mr. Greene with you?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said, “he’s standing right here. Hold on.” Mike stepped over and held out his hand for the phone, and Taylor watched as he took it and immediately walked several feet away from her. His tone was low, and she was too preoccupied watching him to decipher what he was saying. Wearing well-worn jeans, boots, and a gray thermal shirt under a navy flannel one, he looked like a true outdoorsman. Taylor felt her mouth go dry.

  Leaving him to his conversation, she headed back to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. She tried not to think about having another five solid days here with only Mike for company. She was going to have to find some way to spend her time when they weren’t talking about things for the interview, because she was picturing—all too vividly—the things she’d like to be doing with him, like taking off the flannel and thermal and getting down to skin.

  She had to fan herself.

  Bad Taylor!

  There was no doubt he would have work to do that didn’t involve her, and Taylor figured she’d drive into town to explore the area, do a little window-shopping and whatnot to pass the time. Unfortunately, her meager journalist salary didn’t allow for the freedom to shop at will. No, she’d have to be happy browsing and exploring the town.

  “Sorry that took so long,” she heard Mike say as he entered the kitchen, handing her the phone back.

  “That’s okay. Was everything all right?”

  He nodded. “He just wanted to let me know the paper was coming over and to make sure you sign and send it back to him as soon as possible. Unfortunately, it’s something he’ll need before you can talk to Wade.”

  Taylor frowned at the thought. “Why? What’s the big deal about this particular document?”

  He shrugged and poured himself something to drink. “Basically, it says Wade will get final approval of the article before it can go to print.”

  “What? Wait…that wasn’t discussed before.” She pulled up her contacts and then Victoria’s number. “She is going to flip.”

  “Who?”

  “My boss. She’s going to freak out that this wasn’t covered in negotiations.”

  “Taylor…” Mike began, but she was already talking on the phone. He stood back, wanting to bang his head against the wall. What freaking timing! If her phone hadn’t rung, she would have kissed him. He knew it like he knew his own name. It had been painful to walk away from her last night—she was as sweet as he’d remembered and the thought of doing more than stealing a kiss… The more time he spent with her, the harder he was finding it to control himself.

  Across the room, Taylor was pacing. “Are you sure, Vic?” he heard her ask. It ticked him off to no end that the document had been missed and he had no doubt it could potentially bring an end to all of this. He could only hope and pray Taylor would be able to smooth things over with her boss so they could move forward. He heard her saying goodbye and held his breath. “Everything all right?” he asked.

  Sighing, she placed the phone down on the kitchen table and pulled out a chair to collapse into. “To say that she is pissed would be an understatement. I think she’ll get over it, but right now she’s having an absolute fit. I need to forward the document to Newslink’s office so legal can look over it before they allow me to sign—or not—and then I guess we’ll move on from there.” She looked up at him. “So, what does this mean? Am I supposed to stop talking with you about all things Wade until this is cleared up?”

  Mike wasn’t sure how to answer that. “I wouldn’t imagine so…I think…”

  “Because if this whole thing is going to crash and burn and be yanked away from me, I’d rather not have any information that someone might try to get out of me to sensationalize.” She stood up and began to pace. “I know how important Wade’s privacy is to him,” she said quickly, “and if you and I talk and you start telling me more things about him and then the pape
rwork doesn’t clear and I have to leave? I don’t want anyone to go after my notes or recordings to try to make their own story out of it and destroy everything he’s built here.” Her eyes looked up at his pleadingly. “Does that make sense?”

  “Taylor, you shouldn’t worry. I’m sure everything is—”

  “But if I can stay—if this document goes through—I want to know all of the details about this man, and I don’t want him to be disappointed in me or in what I write.” It was suddenly coming into view for Taylor—writer to writer, she wanted to do Wade justice. “I want to know what inspires him to write, where he does his writing—I didn’t see any place like that when you showed me around the house.” Taylor looked around thoughtfully. “When I write, I have a complete ritual—I bike for thirty minutes to clear my head before I begin. Then I pour myself a glass of wine and sit down at my desk. I have a picture of the lighthouse at Montauk Point sitting there that I can look at and…then I can begin.”

  “Why the lighthouse?”

  She shrugged. “I only went there once. The last time I went was…” she looked away, suddenly shy.

  Mike silently stepped up behind her. “When?” he asked, low.

  Turning, she looked up at him. “That summer with you. Do you remember? It was just me, you, and Eddie, but we got up at the crack of dawn and drove out to spend the day on the beach, and we took a bunch of pictures at the lighthouse. I still have them, but there’s one of the lighthouse that is just…perfect. I look at it and it soothes me.”

  He understood. More than she knew.

  “I want to know if Wade has such a ritual. I wish I had more time to spend here.”

  “So, stay longer.”

  Taylor’s eyes went wide. “What?”

  “Stay. Longer.”