Free Hot Spot by Debbi Rawlins

side. “You obviously miss being out there—getting the story. Why aren’t you out there more?”
    “More?” He laughed. “I haven’t done any field reporting since I accepted the anchor seat.” Of course the network brass would disagree. Except their idea of field reporting was doing the morning show live from a movie set.
    “Why not?”
    He hesitated. “It’s not feasible.” Was she really that naive? “Shouldn’t we get started?”
    “Right.” She looked as if she wanted to say something more but wisely turned away. “Let’s see…the couch. Or maybe…” She moved back slowly, while studying the room. “Over here.” She gestured for him to sit on a fabulous green suede chair.
    He did, but she frowned and shook her head.
    “That’s not right. Let’s try the couch again.”
    He sighed, got to his feet and moved to the couch.
    “Okay, good, but can you just kind of turn this way.” She angled her body by example, the T-shirt molding her breasts and blowing his concentration. “More like this.” She touched his shoulder and positioned him toward the window.
    He kept his gaze straight ahead; if he turned even a little, her breast would be far too close to his lips.
    “Look this way a little,” she said, and when he hesitated, she touched the side of his jaw, a light, innocent touch that shouldn’t have held such potency.
    Her fingers quickly fell away, and he wondered if she’d shared the same heated reaction. Crazy as it was. Not just crazy. Full-blown insane. He never mixed business with pleasure. Anyway, he didn’t have brief flings. Too messy. Fodder for the tabloids.
    “Um, could you just kind of face the window a little more?” She’d stepped back, her hands at her sides.
    “Like this?”
    “A little more.” She started to show him and then lowered her hands again. “Don’t look directly into the sun but enough that it lights your face.”
    He smiled. “And spotlight all my imperfections?”
    She snorted. “If you have one, I haven’t found it yet.”
    Rarely did he get embarrassed but that did it. “Trust me. They’re there.”
    She grinned and got up close. “Now I’m curious.”
    For a foolish second he thought she was going to kiss him, but then she used her index finger to nudge up his chin.
    “There.” She moved back and looked through the camera lens. “Put your arm along the back of the couch. But keep your—”
    He looked over at her.
    “…chin angled.” Sighing, she lowered the camera. “Maybe we’d better stick to candid shots for a while.”
    “Look, I know how to follow camera direction.” He pointedly looked at his watch. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”
    Annoyance flickered in her eyes. “Excuse me, I thought I’d made myself perfectly clear.”
    He rubbed the back of his neck, regretting having taken out his edginess on her. She was just trying to do her job. “I didn’t mean to sound impatient.”
    “I wasn’t exactly grace personified.” She lifted the camera from around her neck, and his gaze went to the hem of her T-shirt. A flash of bare skin but that was it. “We jumped into this pretty hard. The coffee should be here any minute. Let’s have some, talk about what we’d like to accomplish today and then get back to work.”
    “Good idea,” he said. Maybe he’d ask her about the navel ring, or whatever it was. Then again, too personal.
    She took the other side of the couch and started to draw her legs up but stopped before her sneakers hit thefabric. “Oh, boy, that’s all I’d need. It would probably take two month’s salary just to dry clean this sucker.”
    Jack glanced around at the tasteful furnishings, the Oriental rug under their feet. “This is a Zang Toi design, isn’t it?”
    “You’re asking me?” She laughed. “Bloomingdales is still high end to me.”
    “I confess. I vaguely remember the name coming up at the grand opening. I don’t even know if Zang Toi is a man or a woman.”
    Her smile said she