“You’re Magnus Adams?” she said in disbelief. His eyes narrowed infinitesimally.
“Yes I am,” he said, with a smile. He regarded her steadily, his voice smooth, like molasses. And, completely against her will, her heart gave a little flutter.
“The businessman I’ve been sent here to interview?” He bowed his head, regally, and the image of him as a lion flashed before her eyes. “Am I missing something?”
“What do you mean?” he said with a frown. Andrea’s head spun. He didn’t recognize her. Why would he? He probably received messages from hundreds of girls he wasn’t interested in. He most likely right-swiped them, and never gave them another thought. It occurred to her that she didn’t look much like her photo now either. “Andrea?” he prompted. She swallowed hard. She’d been sent here to interview him. It was very bad luck that she had history with him, but that’s all it was. Kristin had given her this opportunity, which she barely deserved, and there was no way she was going to let her down. She had to be professional now. She was here to do a job. She was going to swallow her humiliation, and do the best damn interview she’d ever done in her life. She lifted her chin defiantly.
“Sorry, I was just figuring out the best spot to take a photo of you to accompany the interview,” she said.
“How about right here?” he suggested, standing in the doorway of the shack. She took her phone out of her purse and looked at him through the screen. Her hands were shaking, and she couldn’t get the camera to focus.
“That works,” she said calmly. Why does he want a photo of himself in front of that crappy shed? she thought to herself. “Do you want to change into your business attire now?” He lifted his hands.
“This is what I wear,” he said, with a charming smile, revealing his perfect white teeth again.
“Uh, ok,” she said. “Whatever you like.” He posed very naturally in the doorway, as if she’d called to him and he’d just stepped outside to see what she wanted. She raised her phone again. His attractiveness was overwhelming. It was like the times she’d interviewed celebrities and tried so hard not to be star-struck, but failed miserably. She held her breath, forcing her hands to be still, and she shot several photos.
“Ok, I think we’re good,” she said, looking at the shots.
“Can I take a photo of you?” he said, already holding his phone up.
“Why?”
“Oh, I just like to keep a record of the journalists who interview me.” What the fuck? she thought, but managed to say, “ok,” in an unimpressed tone. She turned her body three quarters towards the camera, as she’d learned from photographers many years ago, and tried to pose naturally as he took what seemed to be quite a few photos.
“Are we doing the interview in here?” she nodded at the shack uncertainly.
“Yes!” he said, as if that was a totally normal thing to do. “Please come in.” He held the door open, and she walked inside. She had the fleeting thought that he could be a psychopath who’d lured her here, and was now intending to kidnap her and use her for his evil perversions. Oh well, too late now. She was nothing if not fatalistic. But she was very aware of his presence as she passed close by him. It was intensely masculine. His height loomed over her, yet had the lightness of men who were athletic, their weight distributed evenly across their bodies, every muscle poised for action. At the same time, she sensed his animal too, with the curious feeling that he could pounce on her from behind, as if she was a wildebeest, or a zebra. She sucked a breath in at the sight of his zebra rug. Right. Ok then.
Inside, the shack was a little less basic than the exterior. It was spotlessly clean, with a modern kitchen. The furniture was very sparse though. There was only a bed and a rickety-looking hard chair. She stiffened at the sight of the bed. It was way too intimate to be seeing the place where a stranger slept. She imagined him stretched out on the bed naked, his tanned skin contrasting with white sheets. Who does he share the bed with? She imagined a succession of slender young models lining up to spend the night between his sheets, and an icepick of bitterness stabbed her in the heart. Fleetingly, she wished that they existed in a parallel universe where he thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world, instead of someone he couldn’t even bear to keep on his Shiftr feed.
“Shall I take the chair?” she asked, her voice sharp with her discomfort. He laughed, revealing a flicker of embarrassment.
“Yes, of course. I’m sorry. I don’t have a lot of furniture.” She sat down cautiously, but the chair was sturdier than it looked. She gazed around the room. She really hated creepy crawlies, and this looked like a place where they’d absolutely love to hang out. Magnus perched on the edge of the bed, legs wide apart and elbows resting on knees.
“Ok, hit me,” he said. She stared at him, startled. She really did have the urge to hit him in his smug, entitled face. Who was he anyway? He was making out he was some big-shot businessman, when it was obvious that he barely had two cents to rub together. She pulled her reporter’s notebook out of her purse and started her dictaphone. She preferred to write up interviews from her notes, and the dictaphone was only there as a back up if she missed anything.
“I usually brief myself thoroughly before interviewing a subject,” she began. “But I have to confess that you’re a complete mystery to me. All I know from my editor is that you’re a local businessman.” He gave her a lazy smile.
“Things work differently in small town papers, don’t they?” he said.
“Yes they do,” she said, in a more cutting tone than she’d intended.
“Well, how about you tell me what your sharp journalist’s nose can figure out about me so far,” he said. She bristled.
“Who’s supposed to be asking the questions here?”
“You’re feisty. I like that.” His smile had become even wider.
“You bet I am,” she returned. God, he’s arrogant. “Ok, so I’m guessing that you work in some kind of trade. Maybe you’re a carpenter, or a lumber dealer?” he grinned, looking delighted.
“Something like that. Let’s just say, I’m good with my hands.” Andrea automatically glanced down at his hands. They were large, and well-shaped, with neatly-cut nails. For the briefest moment, she imagined them running all over her body. Forcing the thought out of her head, she cleared her throat.
“Why so elusive Mr. Adams? It’s going to be an interesting interview if you don’t want to answer my questions.”
“I’m sorry, I guess I wasn’t clear enough when I agreed to be interviewed. I am a businessman, but that’s not what I want to talk about today.” She nodded. Despite what she’d just said, interviews were often as much about what people didn’t say as what they decided to divulge. If a subject was difficult or arrogant, a talented journalist could bring that out very well in a piece.
“So what do you want to talk about today?”
“I’ll be honest with you.” She tilted her chin.
“That’s usually a good place to start.” His eyes narrowed, and she fancied that she’d offended him. Good. He deserves it.
“I have been a businessman. And I've achieved a lot for myself. But I truly believe that happiness is about sharing your life with people, rather than enjoying material things.” She nodded. Only people who never have to worry about money say things like that. “I moved to Hope Valley because I wanted to find a place where I could truly be myself.” He was leaning towards her, engagingly, his golden eyes boring into hers.
“And living out in the national forest is part of that plan?” He spread his hands wide.
“My needs are very simple.”
“Evidently,” she said, looking around.
“You don’t like my place?”
“I didn’t say that.” He made a sound, somewhere between a sigh and a rumble. “I guess it’s a little lacking in feminine touches.”
She didn’t want to ask the next question, but it was an absolutely standard interview question, and it’d be weird if she didn’t.
r /> “I take it there's no Mrs Adams?” she said. Several emotions flashed through his eyes, too fast for her to identify a single one of them.
“Sadly, no. I haven't yet found the one.”
“What would it take for a woman to be the one for Magnus Adams?” Her tone was snarky, revealing the hurt that had welled up at the reminder that he had dismissed her as not being good enough for him.
“She’d have to be goodhearted, passionate, hungry, not obsessed with superficial things. And, of course, beautiful and deliciously curvy.” As he said those final words, his gaze doubled in intensity. She squirmed. Was he playing with her? She had the distinct impression that he was flirting with her. Probably to bolster his ego. Whatever. Screw him. He’s clearly a loser anyway, despite his ridiculous good looks.
“And, not to mention, happy to live with you in a shed?” the sound he made was unmistakably a snarl. She’d definitely offended him this time.
“You may be a woman of superficial values. But, thankfully not everyone is like that.”
“You know nothing about me!” she said, far more loudly than she'd intended.
“No? I think I can pick up quite a lot about you from the way you’re reacting to my home.”
“Your home? If you want to call this hovel a home, that's up to you. But none of the women I know would see it that way.” She stopped, took a deep breath. What the hell am I doing? She’d never been unprofessional like this in an interview before. It was just that he was touching all her pressure points, all at once. She thought about what would happen if she went back to Kristin without an interview. It would be disastrous. But the expression in his eyes was furious and smoldering.
“I’m sorry,” she said, with an effort. “It might be best if we kept my character out of the interview. Maybe we can run through some standard questions?” He nodded briefly.
“Age?”
“35”
“Where were you born?”
“Maine.”
“Favorite color?”
“Yellow.”
“Star sign?”
“Leo.”
“Are you planning on having children?”
“Yes. At least four.” Andrea gulped. She’d always secretly wanted a big family, but she’d repressed the desire, as it wasn’t exactly compatible with being a New York journalist. And then she couldn’t even find a guy to have one kid with, never mind four.
“When did you first hear about Hope Valley, and decide that you might want to live here?” Magnus’s gaze softened.
“I heard about it through the shifter community, but of course you can’t print that in the paper. I knew it was a place where a lot of shifters lived, who’d also moved there to find the curvy girl of their dreams.” Andrea gaped. So he does recognize me, otherwise he wouldn’t mention shifters to me. Tamika had impressed on her how important it was that no one discussed shifters with outsiders. So we’re both pretending that we don’t know each other. Great. “But if you want a printable answer, you could say that I have a distant relative who lives in Hope Valley, and I used to visit as a small boy, and always dreamed of moving here one day,” he continued.
“Ok,” she mumbled, scribbling on her notepad.
“Actually, no. Scratch that. Can you please say that I’d heard that Hope Valley has the most beautiful, voluptuous women on the planet, and I moved here in the hope of finding the one for me.” Andrea raised an eyebrow very deliberately.
“Are you trying to turn this interview into a dating ad?” she said. That flash of hurt passed across his face again.
“No. That wasn’t what I meant. Oh, it doesn’t matter. Write whatever you want.”
“Ok, I think I have enough for now,” she said. She didn’t at all. She’d only filled half a page of notes, but she couldn’t stand to be around him any longer. She stood up and extended her hand stiffly. “It was nice to meet you, Mr Adams.” He took her hand softly for such strong fingers.
“The pleasure was all mine.” She turned around and strode back to her car, and drove off without a backward glance.
Chapter Eight
As soon as Andrea had gone, Magnus walked back to the cabin and punched the wall, hard enough to make the wood splinter. But he didn't even feel the pain in his hand.
“Fuck! Shit! Damnit!” he yelled at the top of his voice. How the hell had that gone so wrong? He’d picked up Andrea’s scent, the same scent that he’d smelled in the newspaper office before she’d even stepped out of the car. And when he’d caught sight of her, he knew she was his mate. She was absolutely gorgeous. Her Shiftr photos didn’t do her any justice at all. She looked so much more real in the flesh. She was a voluptuous goddess, all flashing eyes behind those sexy glasses, provocative lips and wild hair. And she had so much spirit! He’d wanted to present an impression of himself as a genuine, humble guy, and he’d succeeded in doing the exact opposite. It was her snarkiness. It had inflamed his delicate lion’s pride, and before he’d known what he was doing, he'd lashed out at her. He had hoped to seduce her during the interview, to get her to open up about herself. And instead, she'd ended up hating him. He was a platinum-plated idiot. That's what he was. Why hadn't he come clean as soon as he saw her, instead of trying to be Mr Smooth? She'd got him all flustered – that was why. He'd never felt like that about anyone before. Sure, he’d felt crazy desire, but this was on a completely different level. Now he understood what other shifters meant when they described meeting their mate for the first time. It was like a thunderbolt – no, ten thunderbolts – had hit him right in the heart. But Andrea had seemed unmoved. She hadn't even recognized him. He’d expected to see some sign that she knew him, but there was nothing. Just the calm detachment of a professional journalist. How was he going to get past this spectacular screw-up? He needed help. He sat on the crumbling steps to his veranda, and located Tamika’s number from his contacts list.
Tamika listened patiently while he relayed the incident. But, as he tailed off, she broke into guffaws.
“Magnus! How on earth did you expect to find someone genuine by being fake yourself? Don’t you think there’s something a little contradictory about that?”
“I know, I know, I guess it does sound a little ridiculous when you put it like that,” he said. “I just had these concerns that she might be superficial, so I guess I wanted to find out whether she liked me for myself, and not because I was a rich businessman.”
“Yes, dear. That’s why when you suggested taking her out for a nice, low-key dinner, I said that was an excellent idea.”
“But – ” he scrabbled around, desperate to explain himself. “But I do want to have a more down to earth lifestyle. Maybe live in the forest permanently.”
“But, Magnus, not in those scabby old sheds. Why don't you get yourself a nice, two-story cabin, built to your exact specifications? I know a few bear shifters who’d be very happy to build it for you, to the highest degree of craftsmanship.” Magnus sighed.
“That sounds lovely, Tamika. I’d be very grateful if you could put me in touch with them.”
“Sure thing, as they say. I’ll get hold of their details. Now, in the meantime, can I suggest you call that poor girl up and tell her everything, before some other lucky shifter snaps her up?”
“I’m not sure how receptive she’s going to be. She’s some woman, Tamika. She’s even snarkier than I am. If that’s possible.” He chuckled.
“And that’s exactly why Shiftr picked you two out as perfectly compatible!”
“I think she’s my mate,” Magnus said, more certainly and genuinely than he’d said anything in his life before.
“I wouldn’t be at all surprised. In fact, I’d be more surprised if she wasn’t. I’m sure it’s not going to be an easy ride between the two of you, but it’ll be well worth it. You’ll see!”
*
Andrea trudged back into the newsroom and went directly to Kristin’s desk.
“How did it go?” Kristin asked brightly.
> “I am really sorry, but I don't think I even have enough for a short article. He was weird and elusive. I tried my best, please believe me. But it was one of the hardest interviews I’ve ever done. And that includes interviewing a variety of celebrities while they were high on coke and under the impression that they were kings of the universe.” Kristin frowned.
“That’s strange. When I met him, he was really keen to be interviewed.”
“He wouldn’t even tell me what kind of business he’s involved in.”
“Hmm, very mysterious. Something that makes a lot of money, if his car’s anything to go by.”
“What? What model is it?”
“Something foreign. A Maserati, I think?”
“Wow. That costs serious money. But that wasn’t the car I saw parked outside the shack where he lives. He had a rusty old pick-up.”
“He lives in a shack? He was wearing a suit when I met him. That doesn’t tally at all.”
“Yeah. Somewhere between a shack and a shed. This is all very strange… I need to get to the bottom of it. Kristin, I’m really sorry for the delay, but can you wait a day or two while I investigate? I really want to figure out what’s going on with him.”
“Of course!” Kristin said with a big smile, happy that the incident had reignited Andrea's journalistic passion. “Take as much time as you need.”
“Thanks, Kristin!” Andrea said, already walking back to her desk.
She sat down in her chair, picked up her phone and dialed Magnus’s number.
“I was mistaken when I said that I had enough to write the piece,” she said, as soon as he answered. “We need to meet again.”
Shiftr: Swipe Left for Love (Andrea) BBW Lion Shifter Romance (Hope Valley BBW Dating App Romance Book 4) Page 6