Читать книгу The Delacourt Scandal - Sherryl Woods, Sherryl Woods - Страница 12

A few hours after her morning encounter with Tyler, Maddie picked a sidewalk café in the same block as Delacourt Oil to have lunch. With any luck at all, perhaps Tyler would pass by and she could snag his attention. If not, maybe some Delacourt employees would sit at a nearby table and she would be able to overhear some juicy bit of corporate gossip. It was a long shot, but she had to admit she was losing patience with the snail’s pace of her investigation. She’d been at it for two weeks, and had little to show for her efforts other than a vague feeling that Tyler had fathered an illegitimate child, something she would likely never use.

Used to the immediacy of daily reporting, Maddie concluded she was not cut out for the slow, tedious work of gathering material for an exposé. Nor was she certain just how long Griffin Carpenter would be willing to fund her fishing expedition. He hadn’t said, and she didn’t want to test him.

Hoping to come up with something—anything—she had spent most of the morning making calls to Baton Rouge trying to pick up any sort of lead on how Tyler spent his time there. She’d come up empty. The man didn’t even have a listed phone number, and the Delacourt Oil offices had firmly declined even to confirm that he worked there. It looked as if she was going to have to go to Louisiana herself if she wanted to pursue that angle of the story. Maybe her time would have been better spent at the library going through old articles on Delacourt Oil in the Houston papers. She vowed to get busy at that first thing tomorrow—maybe even after lunch today if her plan to hook up with Tyler failed.

“Okay, who’s responsible for that look on your face? Tell me and I’ll beat them up for you.”

Just the sound of that deep, slow-talking voice was enough to send goose bumps dancing down her spine. She glanced up into Tyler’s twinkling blue eyes and felt another jolt of electricity. Even though his arrival was exactly what she’d hoped for, she obviously hadn’t steeled herself against his thoroughly masculine effect on her.

“Thanks all the same, but I can fight my own battles,” she retorted lightly, pleased that her voice was steady.

“Mind if I join you? Or would I be taking my life in my hands?”

She conducted a blatant survey of him from head to toe. “Oh, you look tough enough. I think you can probably take care of yourself. Have a seat and tell me what’s put you in such a good mood. A couple of hours ago you looked as if you were heading off to war.”

“In a manner of speaking I was. Battle’s over. I won.”

“Was there ever any doubt?”

“For a few minutes, there, it could have gone either way. Now let’s get back to you. Any luck with the job hunt?”

“I spent the morning making calls,” she said honestly. “No leads.”

“Why don’t you let me help you out? If you don’t want to work for Delacourt, I know a lot of other people in this town.”

“I’m sure you do, but I need to do this myself.”

He nodded, his expression oddly irritated. “Pride’s a funny thing, especially if you let your desire for independence overshadow common sense. It can cost you in unexpected ways.”

She regarded him curiously. Had pride been an issue with him before? “Such as?” she prodded.

“Sometimes it keeps the people who care about you at arm’s length at the very time when you need them the most.”

“Has that happened to you?”

His expression clouded over. “In a way. Enough about pride, though. What’s your game plan?”

Since her game plan was in a state of flux and had nothing to do with job hunting, she forced a brilliant smile. “I’m taking the afternoon off. How about you?”

“As it happens that’s exactly my intention, as well.” His gaze locked on hers. “So, Maddie Kent, want to do something impulsive?”

“Such as?”

“It’s not impulsive if you have to know all the details ahead of time,” he teased.

Her pulse promptly kicked into overdrive. It appeared that this lighthearted, victorious Tyler was even more dangerous than the brooding, vulnerable man she’d first met. No wonder he had a reputation. That smile of his could lure a woman into going against every sane, rational bit of advice she’d ever been given—to say nothing of severing the last fragile thread by which she was clinging to her ethics.

However, his mood played straight into her own agenda to worm her way into the heart of the Delacourt clan. “Name it. I’ll go along.”

“Come with me, then.”

“I haven’t even eaten.”

“Don’t worry, short stuff, you’ll get to eat. In fact, I’ll promise you the best seafood you’ve ever eaten, along with buttered corn on the cob and the perfect dessert for a steamy day like this.”

“Lead me to it,” she said.

He held out his hand, and after a second’s hesitation she placed hers in it. The instant she did, she knew it was a mistake. His touch sent heat sizzling through her veins and set her every nerve to tingling.

Slow down, she warned herself. This was very thin ice, and given the temperature of her thoughts at the moment, it wouldn’t take long to melt right through it.