His brows dipped and then he smiled. “Whatever makes the lady happy.”
With no hesitation, Zoe claimed her seat and reached for a menu as Declan slid in across from her. The waitress took their drink orders and disappeared. Staring at the list of food options, Zoe could feel Declan’s hot stare. She grabbed the menu stuffed behind the napkin holder and put it in front of him. “Choose. I’m starving. Must order food now.”
“I know what I want.”
The piercing directness in his eyes and the low, sultry tone of his voice told her he didn’t mean food. He meant her. “Declan—”
He didn’t let her finish. “Double cheeseburger and a shake. They make the best in Manhattan.”
Zoe sat back in her seat. “Fine. I’ll have the same.”
“You might want a single. They’re huge.”
“I’m starved.” She gave him a challenging look. “I’ve worked up quite the appetite.”
“You’re a control freak.”
“What?” she said, surprised by the out-of-nowhere comment.
“You can’t even sit with your back to the door. You’re a control freak. You have to have everything under your thumb.”
“About some things, I guess,” she reluctantly admitted.
His brow inched upward. “Some things?”
“Look who’s talking,” she retorted, sitting forward and resting her hands on the table. “You are, too.”
“And you base that assessment on what? I’m not the one who can’t have my back to the door.”
She shifted in her seat feeling way too on trial. “I’ve seen your desire for control and you know it.”
A sexy little smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “I’m willing to take turns. Give a little here. Take a little there.”
They were talking about sex now. Or were they? Somehow the conversation was cloudy. “And I haven’t?”
The waitress appeared before Zoe could get her answer and inwardly she cursed the timing. Tall drinks appeared on the table right about the time a tight spasm in her stomach reminded her that eating was becoming critical. Even her hand felt a little shaky. Sweet stuff in the morning and nothing since had caught up to her. Zoe reached for her cola hoping it would settle her grumbling stomach.
“How do you want your burger?” Declan asked.
“Well done,” Zoe said.
“Same for me,” Declan told the waitress before she disappeared.
Zoe quirked an eyebrow. “I would have thought you’d want yours rare.”
Settling back against the cushion, he studied her, amusement lighting his eyes. “Do I dare ask why?”
“They say you eat your victims alive in the courtroom.”
“Victims, huh?” he asked, his voice hinting at laughter. “Tell me, Zoe, why do you hate attorneys so much?”
Blue. His eyes were so damn blue. She blinked. Thinking. Then reminded herself he was “one of them”. No matter how sexy, how compelling, his career would always be number one. “It’s not just attorneys. And it’s not personal.”
“Not just attorneys?” he asked. “Okay, I’ll bite. What elite group have I become involved with and don’t know it.”
“Those who will do anything to be on top.”
He gave her a coolly assessing look. The kind she imagined he gave a witness on the stand. Only she doubted the witness felt all tingling with awareness. Then again, maybe. Declan had an air of confidence that oozed sex appeal. Even now, knowing he
was about to blast her with some hard-to-answer question, her body vibrated with the low pulse of newborn arousal. The slight movement of her arm and the rub of fabric against her now ultra-sensitive nipples made them ache. Silently, she prayed her blouse had enough lace to hide the evidence of such a response.
She looked down at the table and blinked several times, trying to clear her head and get back to the conversation. Her physical reaction to this man had left her with her proverbial guard down. Struggling to regain her composure, she lashed out again, angry that Declan had managed to get her so off balance.
“Do you deny you’d do anything to win a case?” she asked.
“Like you’ll do anything to get a story?” he countered.
Slam. Bam. She hadn’t expected that one. “No,” she responded immediately, feeling suddenly defensive. “I’m an entertainment reporter.”
His brow inched upward. “And that means what?”
Zoe hated being grouped with the rest of the media. “I’m not like the others.”
“But you’re a reporter so I should convict you of being like them, should I not? You’ve done that to me.”
She ground her teeth together. “I should know better than to get into verbal banter with an attorney.”
“And I guess I should be careful about what I say around a reporter.”
For an instant, she considered throwing her drink in his face. “You’re impossible.”
“No more so than you,” he said with a chuckle. “Remember when I said I wanted a concession?”
She inhaled and then let it out. “You’re already calling that trump card? I would have thought you’d hold it longer than a few hours.”
“What I want isn’t so much a concession as a favor.” His voice was softer now, and he pinned her in a stare. “Give me a real chance, Zoe. Find out who I am outside the courtroom.”