Fearless Read Free

down to my toes. I sincerely hope he doesn’t notice the effect he has on me.
    â€œYes, and an agent. He’s a very well-respected researcher and a great storyteller. But he’s getting older and refuses to learn how to use a computer, and no one can read his handwriting. It would require a fairly extensive time commitment, but if you think you might be interested I’d be happy to facilitate a meeting between the two of you.”
    He pulls a pen and a business card from his pocket, scribbles a number on the back of the card and then places it in my hand, closing my fingers around it. He keeps his hand on mine for a moment longer than necessary, looking me directly in the eye. “Plus, it would give me a chance to see more of you, which I think I would enjoy. Think about it.”
    He glances at his watch and stands up.
    â€œI have to get back to the office,” he says. “I hope to hear from you, Emmaline.”
    Speechless, I watch as he walks out of the deli, admiring the way his shoulders fill out the white coat. I glance down at the number scribbled on the back of the card. Is this his dad’s number? His personal number? There are a million reasons not to do this, but that’s the old, fearful me talking. I already know I will call him. Career wise, it’s a great opportunity and one that doesn’t come along every day. It would be nice to focus on one long-term project rather than scrambling to find enough projects to pay the bills. More importantly, I think with a little surge of excited anticipation, he wants to see more of me! I’m feeling reckless and bold. What better way to flirt with danger than getting to know the decidedly dangerous and intoxicatingly sexy Beckett Black?

Chapter Two
    Although I had planned to wait a couple of days before calling, I ultimately cave the next day and call the number Dr. Black had scrawled on the back of the card, my heart thumping. Not surprisingly, a computerized voice directs me to leave a message, and I leave my name and number.
    Two hours later he calls me back. His voice is unbelievably sexy over the phone, with a deep, gravelly edge to it. How had I not noticed that before?
    â€œEmmaline,” he states unquestioningly as I answer, as if he knew without a doubt I would answer.
    â€œYes?”
    â€œWhat did you decide?”
    Well, so much for the chit chat. Somehow he makes it sound like I’m deciding to accept more than a potential job offer.
    â€œI’d love to meet your dad and find out more about the project,” I say with as much professionalism as I can muster with my heart racing in my chest.
    â€œExcellent,” he replies. “Are you free for dinner tomorrow night?”
    â€œSure,” I agree, grateful for once that Nikki spends Wednesday nights with her dad and his new wife. It will be easier knowing I don’t have to rush home. “Where would you like to meet?”
    â€œI’ll pick you up,” he says.
    â€œThat’s okay,” I protest. “You don’t have to do that.”
    â€œI know I don’t have to,” he says patiently in a tone that indicates he won’t accept no for an answer. “What’s your address?”
    I give it to him, along with some general directions.
    â€œI’ll find it,” he assures me. “I’ll pick you up at seven o’clock.”
    The following evening, I dress in a black sundress and black sandals with a chunky cork heel that add three inches to my five foot, five inch frame. I figure Dr. Black is at least six feet tall; he won’t be intimidated by a woman in heels. I add a pair of silver hoop earrings, a silver watch, and quick squirt of perfume. After scrutinizing my reflection in the mirror, I carefully twist my dark brown hair into a loose chignon, securing it with a few hair pins.
    Nikki is perched on my bed watching me.
    â€œSo you’re sure this isn’t a date?” she asks