“I am.” He was pleased she didn’t seem star-struck. Skirts that belonged to groupies weren’t his favorite to chase. Rebecca’s little hand was cold. He experienced a need to chafe it he truly couldn’t resist. “Why don’t I take you to where they’re setting up?”
She was gaping at him, but at this she shut her mouth. “Yes,” she said, retrieving her hand from his. “That would be nice of you.”
He’d waylaid her on the stretch of bridge that crossed the narrowest point of the park’s lagoon. Having lost her hand, he took her elbow to lead her down the small jog of stairs to the bank. If she’d taken ten steps farther, she’d have seen the set-up herself. The crowd of boys in Speedos had gathered near the swan boats, which the magazine had taken over for the time being. The photographer and his assistants were there as well, adjusting reflectors and blotting sweat as required.
“Group photo,” he explained as the dozen underdressed college boys clambered joking onto the wooden seats. The pontoons sploshed at their shifting weight. “It’s kitschy, but I expect readers will like it.”
On the bank now, Rebecca searched the faces for ones she knew. Zane’s hold remained on her arm. He felt her stiffen as she spied who she sought.
“The little bastard,” she murmured. “He’s perfectly all right.”#p#分页标题#e#
Zane followed her line of sight. One of her brothers had thrown his head back with laughter at something another model said. He wasn’t certain which twin it was, but he took a wild guess. “That one’s Charlie?”
“It is,” his sister confirmed. “Apparently, Pete called me out here for nothing.”
Her delectable pink mouth flattened into a line. “Not for nothing,” he coaxed, secretly enjoying the angry set of her jaw. “It’s a pretty day, and I’m happy to meet you.”
She gave him her full and startled attention. Zane struggled not to laugh. For whatever reason, this cutie wasn’t expecting to be flirted with. No doubt his amusement showed in his eyes. Rebecca’s brows drew together in confusion. “Why are you here exactly? Aren’t you too important?”
He did laugh then. “I usually do the interviews for our annual Hot Men of Harvard piece. Bad Boys Magazine has its own staff these days, but now and then I get nostalgic. When we started, I did everything from layout to selling ads. Anyway, I like to see what the latest generation of Harvard lights is up to. Your brothers were standouts. Very well spoken and personable. Their account of how you raised them is inspiring.”
Rebecca let out a gasp so sharp he couldn’t miss hearing it. “They told you that?”
“Shouldn’t they have?” His answer was the pallor that swept her face. If that weren’t enough to clue him in that something was wrong, one of her knees buckled. She looked as if she were going to boot or faint.
“Hey,” he said, quickly getting an arm around her. “Let’s find you somewhere to sit.”
He grabbed a bottled water from a passing magazine staffer, not wanting to pause more than that in guiding his distressed damsel to a shady spot. The nearest he saw was under a huge weeping willow. Rebecca was shaking as he settled her on the bench. He handed her the water, which she took a sip of.
“Sorry,” she said. “I’m all right. That just took me by surprise.”
Zane sat next to her, figuring she could use his warmth. She seemed to be in shock. Her side was actually cold.
“Look,” he said, laying his hand gently on her knee. Despite being attracted to her, he tried to keep the touch platonic. “If you need me to pull the interview, I will. Your brothers didn’t act like they were breaking a confidence, and God knows my tiny journalist streak will cry—as human interest goes, the story is great. I will kill it, though, if it bothers you that much. We’ll find something else to sell issues.”
Rebecca rubbed her forehead. “I guess it’s not a deep dark secret anymore. They’re too old for anyone to take them away from me.”
Zane’s throat tightened the same way it had when he first saw her eyes. “Your brothers should have warned you they were going to spill the beans.”
To his surprise, she laughed. The sound was nice, low and a bit throaty. “Pete and Charlie know me too well to ask permission about some things. They must have decided I’d been holding on to that too long.”
“So you don’t mind? God knows I’d like to run the piece. Their stories of how you tried to pretend your father was still around were hilarious.”