Free If You Can't Stand the Heat... (Harlequin Kiss) by Joss Wood Page B

back and help you?’
    ‘Making sure that the people I love are happy is very important to me, Jack.’
    ‘Not if it comes at too high a price to you .’
    She’d inherited Mitchell’s irritable, don’t-mess-with-me stare.
    ‘You’re really sexy when you’re irritated,’ he commented idly, unfazed.
    ‘I suspect that you can be annoying...’ she paused for a beat and bared her teeth at him ‘...all the time.’
    Jack grinned at her attempt to intimidate him. She looked as scary as a Siamese cat with an attitude disorder.
    Ellie rubbed her temple with her fingertips. ‘Can we not talk about the bakery tonight? I’d like to pretend it’s not there for five minutes.’
    Jack agreed and sighed in relief when he saw a waiter heading their way with pizzas. It wasn’t a moment too soon. He thought his stomach was about to eat itself.
    ‘So, why war reporting?’ Ellie asked, when they’d both satisfied their immediate hunger.
    Ellie wound a piece of stray cheese around her finger and popped it into her mouth. Jack nearly choked on the bite of pizza he’d just taken. Hell... He quickly swallowed and pulled his mind out of the bedroom. She was getting harder and harder to resist. And he had to resist her...mostly because she was so damn hard to resist.
    Ellie repeating her question wiped the idea of sex—only temporarily, he was sure—from his brain.
    ‘When I was about fifteen I watched a lot of news, and Mitch and other war reporters were reporting from Iraq. I was fascinated. They seemed larger than life.’
    ‘He was. Is.’
    ‘Then he was interviewed and he spoke about the travelling and the adrenalin and I thought it was a kick-ass career.’ Jack bit, swallowed and grinned. ‘I still think it is.’
    Ellie’s eyes were a deep blue in the candlelight and Jack felt as if she could see into his soul.
    ‘How do you deal with the bad stuff you’ve seen? The violence, the suffering, the madness, the cruelty? How do you process all of that?’
    Jack carefully placed his slice of pizza back down on his plate. He took a while to answer, and when he did he was surprised to hear the emotion in his voice. ‘It took some time but I’ve programmed myself to just report on the facts. My job is to tell the story—hopefully in a way that will facilitate change. I observe and I don’t judge, because judgement requires an emotional involvement.’
    ‘And you don’t get emotionally involved,’ Ellie said thoughtfully. ‘Does that carry over into other areas of your life?’
    Jack stiffened, wondering where she was going with that question. ‘You mean like relationships and crap like that?’
    ‘Yeah—crap like that.’ Ellie’s response was bone-dry.
    He had to set her straight. Right now. Just in case she had any ideas...
    ‘Like your father, my life doesn’t lend itself to having a long-term relationship. Women tend to get annoyed when you don’t spend time with them.’
    ‘Yep, I know what that feels like. Any woman who gets involved with a war reporter is asking to put her emotions through a meat-grinder,’ Ellie replied. ‘God knows that’s exactly what Mitchell did to me.’
    She didn’t give him time to respond and was frustrated when she changed the subject.
    ‘So, how is the book coming along?’
    Ellie pushed her plate away and Jack frowned. She’d barely managed to eat half her medium pizza and he had almost finished his large. ‘Well, apart from the fact that I can’t get a certain reporter’s daughter to sit down and answer my questions, fine.’
    He saw guilt flash across her face. ‘Oh, Jack, I’m so sorry! You probably want to leave, head home, and I’m holding you up—’
    Jack shook his head. Where did this need to blame herself for everything come from? She was so together and confident in some ways—such a train wreck when it came to her need to please.
    ‘Ellie, stop it!’ Ellie’s mouth snapped shut and Jack thought that was progress. ‘Firstly, if I wanted to leave