Free THE CRITIC by Dyanne Davis Page A

women tall to match his own stature.  At 6’7” short women always appeared too delicate.
    If he could find a woman six feet tall he was in heaven.  And one that was mostly legs to wrap around him… Well now, he didn’t have the words for that.
    He looked down at his condition, remembering his dream.  Toreas Rose’s size had not mattered. But the memory of her angry eyes glaring at him the night before brought him back to reality.  “Ahhh, Jared, get hold of yourself.”
    He heard the thump of the paper hitting his door and turned in that direction.  Why put off learning whatever Derrick had done?   He opened the door, expecting to turn at least to the middle of the paper for the story. 
    It was blaring out at him from the front page and he scanned it quickly.  When he had begun trashing the writers, it was purely out of vengeance, vengeance that he had now worked out of his system.  But the story had taken on a life of its own. Now it was all about ratings and profits. He felt like a traitor to the women.
    Jared slammed his door, then kicked the plant stand and immediately swore, knowing there was not now the slightest possibility of making what he had dreamed a reality.
    It was probably for the best.  He needed to stick with what he knew.  Him with a goody, goody two-shoes?  Someone he’d undoubtedly have to train?  No, that was not what he wanted.  He wanted a woman who knew how to give pleasure as well as receive it.
    He looked down again at her name emblazoned in the paper.  Toreas Rose definitely wasn’t the woman for him.  He could tell in the easy way she blushed.  That had been a real surprise. 
    He knew lots of women turned red in the face when they were angry but he couldn’t remember seeing one of them blush.  Then again, maybe he hadn’t noticed because none of them had intrigued him the way that Toreas had.  
    He tried to remember the things he didn’t like about the woman. Her loose fitting clothing was a sure sign that she was more than likely uptight. Reluctantly, he admitted to himself that intrigued him.  He would love to be the one to teach her to open up.  They were as different as night and day but for some strange reason he wanted the woman. Not forever. Just for a night. But all his well honed instincts told him she was not a one night stand. And he was not a man of commitment. Not anymore.
    Maybe Derrick was right after all.  Maybe he should just keep the war going and get all the mileage he could out of it and then return to California.
    But for a moment last night Jared thought he had detected a hitch in her breath when he sat in front of her. She’d refused to meet his gaze, so he wasn’t at all sure if she was reacting romantically to their close proximity or was just disgusted by him.
    There was only one thing Jared was sure of and that was that he wanted to see her again.  He didn’t understand why it mattered so to him, but he wanted to change her opinion of him.  He wanted her to believe that her name in the morning paper was not his idea.
    He smiled.  At least the paper had spelled her name correctly and usually for most people in the entertainment business, that was enough.  But a private person wouldn’t want to be in the paper. How did he know Toreas Rose was a private person?
    He padded on bare feet to make coffee, his mind fixated on a tiny woman in loose fitting clothes. How did he presume to know this woman so well when he’d only seen her two times, not counting his dreams?
    Would a private person write romance? Would a private person call the station to complain, and then accept the offer to come on television?  Would a private person punch the host on his own show?  Would a private person let the war go on so long without attempting to resolve it?
    Would Toreas Rose, the woman with the dark brown eyes that smoldered with an inner fire do all of those things?  Yes, but without a doubt he knew she was a private person.  As he began to