He might have to endure a microphone or two that came just a little too close for comfort, but it was the least he could do to keep the attention from Sierra who was now being escorted out through the side entrance by Luke and Cole. Better him than Luke McCoy that was for damn sure.
“Mr. Murphy,” a microphone was jammed toward his face, “is it true that, not only do you represent Club Destiny, but you’re also a member?”
Tag couldn’t count the number of times he had heard that exact question in the last couple of weeks. And just like every other time, he ignored it and continued making his way through the hordes of people mulling about.
Another microphone.
Another question.
“No comment,” Tag said as he shouldered his way through, only this time, something – or rather someone – caught his eye.
Stopping abruptly, his feet unwilling to continue, Tag searched the faces around him until his gaze narrowed on one woman. The same woman who had caught his eye every day for a solid month and captivated his thoughts for even longer.
McKenna Thorne.
After their first run in, Tag had spent the better part of an afternoon digging for more information on the titillating red head now standing just two feet away wielding a microphone and a seductive smile. The microphone he didn’t mind, but the smile was more than just an intriguing tilt of her full, red lips. It was a dare.
His persistent research gave Tag quite a bit of information on the tremendously successful journalist. She wasn’t just any journalist though. McKenna was a relentless, highly admired entrepreneur who owned Sensations, Inc., a well-known online magazine geared toward swingers and the sexually taboo. In recent weeks, thanks to the loose lips of Susan Toulmin, McKenna’s magazine had received more than its fair share of recognition.
He knew better than to provoke the intriguing McKenna. Not because he worried his life would become fodder for her daily newsfeed, but because, quite frankly, Tag wasn’t sure how far his control could be stretched, and the vibrant red head, with her teasing smile and come-hither stare, seemed to realize that.
“Is it true, Mr. Murphy,” McKenna drawled in that sexy, raspy voice that was better suited for phone sex than an interview in his opinion, “that you’re representing Luke and Logan McCoy in their newest business venture? Investing in a mega resort catering to the uber wealthy and their kinky obsessions?”
Tag made sure his expression didn’t change as he continued to stare into the most exotically intense eyes he’d ever seen on a human being. From a distance, her eyes appeared to be as crystal blue as the waters of the Caribbean, but up close, less than a foot between them, he could see that McKenna’s eyes weren’t blue, or green, or brown, but a combination of all three. The iris consisted of a thin band of brown, encapsulated by a thicker ring of green, surrounded by an unusually bright teal blue. He didn’t even think they could be called a specific color.
Her eyes weren’t her only feature that Tag found appealing. Ever since the first day, outside of the exact same courthouse where they stood now, he’d been consumed by thoughts of her. It wasn’t just the smooth perfection of her porcelain skin, her cute little nose, her luscious mouth or all of those sinful curves that made men turn and watch while she walked away. McKenna had a confident sophistication about her, and when she had said his name that day, he’d been a goner.
His body hadn’t known the type of lust she inspired for quite some time; an inferno of passion and need that all but consumed him. Only Tag was a smart man, and he’d been taught at a remarkably young age not to play with fire. And he sensed this woman was as fiery as the long, silky tresses upswept at the back of her head.
“No. Comment.” Tag offered McKenna his signature statement and a sardonic grin, then turned and moved through the crowd. Had it not been for his momentary pause, he might’ve been able to avoid what came next.
“Mr. Murphy!” The voice rang out, all too familiar, and more than a little irritating. “Don’t you think it’s time you came clean with the nice people of this city?”
Why couldn’t the woman just keep her damned mouth shut?
Tag initially found Susan’s insistence on representing herself highly amusing, but it hadn’t taken long before she proved not only to him, but the judge as well, that she was unquestionably bat shit crazy. Now, apparently, she was out to ensure the world knew it too.
He turned slowly, dreading the confrontation that had been a long time coming.
“Ms. Toulmin,” Tag greeted her politely, although he should’ve ignored her.
With Luke McCoy, on behalf of Club Destiny, in the process of suing Susan for violation of a binding contract, Tag knew better than to invite trouble if he could avoid it.