One Night
With You
© Shiloh Walker, 2007
If she faked it long enough, maybe she could actually convince herself
it was all true. That she knew how to wear silk and sip wine and smile a
sexy little smile at the gorgeous man staring at her. But she didn’t
think it was going to happen.
Bo was more comfortable wearing jeans and a tank top while she worked a
photo shoot. She’d rather the silk be on some bone-skinny model she saw
through her camera lens instead of on her. She rather be riding through
rain and snow on her dad’s ranch and taking pictures of a newborn
foal—even helping to deliver it. She’d take the blood and gore and
afterbirth, or dealing demanding models and demanding agents. She’d take
those experiences any day of the week over this one.
At least she knew how to handle those.
“You don’t have to look so nervous.”
Bo didn’t see the point in lying. She looked at Logan and smiled a
little. “I’m not used to this kind of place, that’s all.” Okay, so maybe
that wasn’t the complete truth, but that wasn’t exactly lying, was it?
Because there was no way she was going to tell Logan that he was the
real reason she was so nervous.
Logan glanced around and smiled a little. “I thought about going to the
Roadhouse but they don’t have crème brulee.”
Even though her belly was pleasantly full from dinner, the thought of
crème brulee had her mouth watering. “You got me,” Bo said with a grin.
“You and your sweet tooth.” The waiter showed up and Bo sipped at her
wine in silence while he ordered. Just one dessert. As the waiter walked
away, she looked at him with a brow lifted. “I hope you don’t think I’m
sharing.”
His pale brown eyes dropped to her mouth and that nervousness returned.
“I’m not hungry for dessert.” The look on his face seemed to say the
opposite, Bo thought. He looked like he was starving, but she had a
weird feeling he wasn’t interested in food.
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