Risking Trust by Adrienne Giordano Read Free Book Online Page B

turned toward the entrance to see Roxann chatting with the hostess. She smiled the smile he saw in his dreams and he held his breath for a second, absorbing the pleasure.
    Would wanting to see that smile on a regular basis be selfish? Did he deserve it? Were they even compatible anymore? Maybe not, but if he got out of this mess, he’d damn sure try to find out.
     
    Roxann greeted a few regulars as she crossed the bar toward Michael. He wore navy dress slacks and a gray sport coat that hugged his shoulders and indicated there’d be nothing soft underneath. Relaxed elegance at its best. Michael never was one to wear a tie unless the occasion, without question, demanded it.
    “Sorry I’m late.” She hated being late and still wondered how she had gotten so behind. She’d arrived home in plenty of time, but after showering couldn’t decide on what to wear and spent thirty minutes rifling through suits and dresses, finally opting for the black sheath.
    Even her hair, typically a no-brainer, caused strife. She’d done a French twist. Too fancy. She settled on her normal low ponytail with a side part, adding a rhinestone clip to hold it in place. This was so typical. Michael Taylor, Mr. Chaos. A simple business meeting with him had already disrupted her routine.
    Michael did a slow, thorough visual exploration of her and her stomach pitched with an unusual bout of insecurity. The snap of a memory flashed to the first time they’d made love and she walked out of her bathroom wearing sheer lace. He’d worn that same look back then. In it she’d seen physical hunger, but also a raw vulnerability that made her stomach quiver the same way it did now. At the time, her as yet unexpressed love for him blew her soul open and she imagined a life with kids, maybe a dog or two and soccer games where parents became too competitive.
    Back then , when he looked at her this way, her excitement over the future had surged. Now, it left her with only regrets. They could have had it all and he’d married someone else.
    She shooed the thought away. “I’ve suddenly turned into a disorganized fashion victim.”
    Michael smiled. “That’s okay. You’re stunning.”
    Her cheeks grew hot from the compliment and she gave herself a mental head-slap. Twit. “Thank you. Our table is ready.” Making small talk could lead to something personal and she needed this meeting to be all business.
    Ignoring the distant stares and hushed voices as they were led to their table turned out to be a challenge Roxann hadn’t anticipated. Being alone with him was out of the question, for a variety of reasons, but maybe meeting in such a public place hadn’t been a stellar idea either. They should have met in her office. During business hours.
    What were all these gawkers thinking? Yes, he was a suspected murderer, she the publisher of a large newspaper and they were having dinner together.
    She had to be insane. She didn’t know this man at all anymore. He could have murdered his wife. And yet, somehow, she didn’t want to believe it. When had she become so foolish? Battling her doubts, she glanced at Michael who appeared unaffected. Impossible.
    The hostess led them to a corner table away from prying eyes and ears— thank you —and Michael held a chair for her. After seating them, the hostess went on her way.
    Frank Sinatra crooned from an overhead speaker while Roxann waited for Michael to say something. Maybe she should say something. She smoothed an invisible crease on the spotless white table cloth and he smiled. She stopped smoothing. He’d always thought that little nervous habit was cute.
    He held up his menu. “Let’s decide on dinner and get to work.”
    A waiter, wearing a white jacket and bow tie, appeared and Michael ordered a bottle of wine.
    “Opus,” she said. “Are we celebrating something?”
    “You need to celebrate something to enjoy good wine?”
    “Apparently not.” Roxann went back to pretending to read her menu. She ate