Kate Hoffmann - Brian

"Just do the job," she murmured, flopping down on the sofa. She reached back and undid the pins from her hair, pulling it free from the confining knot.

Brian had already broadcast one report on the protests against the Wellston waterfront project and it was clear that he had Patterson in his sights. Compared to the community groups who had opposed the project, Quinn was more dangerous. He could reach thousands of viewers a night and affect the decisions of people in power.

Lily felt almost impotent in dealing with him. She had shown him her weaknesses that afternoon in the pub and if he was any type of reporter, he'd exploit them at the first possible opportunity. She groaned softly and rubbed her temples, trying to drive thoughts of work from her head. With this job, more than any other, she needed to leave it at the office or she'd be a basket case by the time she left town.

But that would be easier said than done. Without a social life in Boston, she had no choice but to spend her days and her evenings thinking about work. She'd already broken her own promise to start a workout routine. Lily reached for the box of Milk Duds she'd bought from the vending machine and popped a few in her mouth. Tomorrow was soon enough to get started.

A knock sounded on her door and Lily scrambled off the bed. She hadn't called for dinner yet, but maybe it was the maid with the chocolates for the pillow! Lily yanked the door open, only to find Brian Quinn standing on the other side. He held up a bouquet of flowers, a wide grin on his handsome face. Her heart did a little flip and had she been able to reach inside her chest and slap it, she would have.

"Hi there," he said, his gaze skimming her face and coming to rest on her lips.

Lily groaned and made to close the door, but he gently pushed it open. This was the last thing she needed tonight. "What are you doing here? How did you find out where I was staying?"

"I'm Brian Quinn, investigative reporter," he teased. "I have sources everywhere."

"I don't want to talk to you. We don't have anything to say to each other."

"All right, we won't talk. Let's go."

"Go where?"

"To dinner. You're new to Boston. I know all the best places to eat and I can get in without reservations. I'm inviting you to accompany me to dinner. You don't have to say a word. We won't talk about work, we won't talk about sex, we won't talk at all, we'll just eat."

"I'm not going on a date with you!" Lily cried.

"Did I say this was a date?"

She sent him a sarcastic smile. "Haven't I explained this already? Are you Brian Quinn, reporter, or Brian Quinn, hearing-impaired jackass?"

"I don't think the fact that we're working on opposite sides of an issue should have any bearing on whether we eat together. I can separate my social life from my professional life. Can't you?"

"Of course I can," Lily lied, walking into the room. "I just don't want to at the present moment."

"You haven't even tried," he said, following her inside. "I'm a very charming man and a brilliant conversationalist. I'm also witty and handsome. And modest. Come out to dinner with me and if you're having a horrible time, then you can go home. You have to eat, don't you?"

"I'm tired. I was going to order room service."

Brian shrugged and sat down on the edge of the sofa, stretching his arms across the back and crossing his leg over his knee. "That sounds good, too. Can I see the menu?"

Lily hitched her hands on her hips. "If you don't get off that sofa and out of my room, I'm going to call security and have them throw you out. But first, I'm going to call the media so they'll have cameras ready to witness your graceful exit. And I might just also let slip about your fondness for whips, leather underwear and four-inch heels. Don't you just hate it when the news reporters end up making the news?"

Brian chuckled. "You've been in town for three days. You don't have any juice yet with the local media. No one knows you. They won't show up. So where's the menu? I could go for a burger. How about you?"

God, she hated that he was always one step ahead of her! If this was any indication of how she was going to control the situation, she might as well catch the next plane back to Chicago. She sighed and raked her hand through her hair. "You're not going to leave, are you?"

"Nope."

Lily walked over to the desk and grabbed the room service menu, then threw it at him. To her frustration, he caught it with one hand. "So, how was your day?" he asked as he perused the menu.

"Do you really expect me to answer that?"

"I was just making polite conversation."

Lily strolled over to the easy chair. "I'll tell you, honestly. It was busy. I spent the day looking at media coverage of Richard Patterson. I must say, you haven't been kind. Your report on his Minuteman project was very unflattering. And you didn't check your facts very well." Lily folded her hands on her lap and stared at him, trying to convince herself that he wasn't as handsome as she remembered. "You know, you still owe me two questions."

Brian frowned. "That was Saturday night."

"I don't recall there being a time limit, do you? No? Question number four. What do you have on Richard Patterson?"

"I'm not going to tell you that," Brian said.

"You have to. Total honesty, remember? That was the deal." Lily couldn't help but smile. Now she finally had the upper hand, at least for the moment.

He sat silently and considered the question. "Let's order dinner first and then I'll tell you everything. What will you have?"

Grudgingly, Lily grabbed the menu. "A small salad with vinaigrette dressing, steamed vegetables, and a glass of red wine. By the way, Richard Patterson is paying for this room and the meal. I don't know if you have any ethical problems with that but I just thought I'd warn you. You're eating on his dime."

"I'll buy dinner." He picked up the phone and dialed room service. "Yes. We'll have two New York strip steaks, baked potato, crème brûlée for dessert and a bottle of your best champagne. Oh, and add a shrimp cocktail and some oysters to that as well." Then he proceeded to offer his credit card number.

"I wanted a salad," Lily said.

"Oops," Brian said. "Since I'm paying, you'll have to eat what I ordered."

Lily shook her head. "You are really a pain."

He hung up the phone. "You haven't seen anything yet. Now, you wanted to know what I've got. I know that Richard Patterson has had to make some sleazy deals to get the Wellston project off the ground. Bribes, influence peddling, probably a few illegal campaign contributions. That waterfront project has been tangled in legalities for years. Three different developers have owned the property and they couldn't make it work, yet he suddenly can? Something smells bad here."

"What proof do you have?"

"None… yet. But it's out there. I just have to find it. Now, let's talk about something else."

"Next question," Lily said. "What do you-"

"No," he interrupted. "I told you what I had on Patterson and I told you what proof I had. Two questions, two answers."

Frustrated, Lily stood up and walked to the bedroom. "I'm going to change. When I come back, I'd be elated if I found you gone."

Lily stepped into the dark bedroom and closed the French doors behind her, leaning back against them for a moment to catch her breath. She couldn't deny the fact that she'd been thrilled to see Brian. Even though he drove her to distraction, there was something about him that she found completely disarming. That nearly-black hair that fell into his eyes every now and then. And those odd greenish-gold eyes. Oh, and that body. He definitely had the most incredible body.

Had the notion not been completely ridiculous, she might have considered prolonging their "relationship" for a while longer. With a soft moan, Lily crossed the room to the dresser and pulled out a T-shirt and jeans. She slipped out of her jacket and skirt, then walked into the bathroom, unbuttoning her blouse along the way.