The Seductive Truth Read online

  Tallia moved out of the photographer’s way, but didn’t relent on the argument. Moving over to a window, she glared up at him. Back and forth they bickered about issues ranging from the defense budget to abortion to education and health care reform. As they argued, they continually had to step out of the way of the other guests as they passed through the area, not realizing that they’d shifted themselves into an alcove with more privacy than they might have intended.

  Looking down at the woman who was trying to figure out an escape, Stephen couldn’t believe how turned on he was by their battle of wills. Well, and the fact that the woman was gorgeous with a smokin’ hot figure. That always helped. But a beautiful woman with intelligence? Damn, he was a goner!

  “If only the education system would focus more on developing the next generation of flight engineers, then I’d be all for allocating more money towards education.”

  She stiffened once again, her eyes narrowing up at him. “Are you saying that you’re against educating the arts?”

  “No. I think that reading and writing play a very important part in a person’s education.”

  Taking her hand, he led her away from the others, grabbing another glass of champagne, he handed it to Tallia. “I need a scotch,” he told the waiter who was standing by with a tray of glasses.

  The man nodded immediately and walked away.

  “Why do I have to drink this stuff and you get scotch?” she demanded, still with that sparkle of fire in her eyes.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Are you saying you don’t want the bubbly stuff?” He leaned in closer. “Or are you protesting the champagne because it cost too much?”

  He watched, amused when her shoulders straightened and she turned to face him fully. Bring it on, he thought with increasing appreciation.

  “First of all, you’re just being a sexist pig to assume that women want champagne. But that’s indicative of your mentality, isn’t it? Women are better in the home, raising children?”

  “Someone’s got to do it. Or society would come to an end.”

  “So, why not men?”

  “Women are better at it,” he said, even though he didn’t believe it for a moment. He enjoyed watching her blue eyes sparkle. The contrast with her pale skin and dark brown hair was fascinating. The whole Irish look made him want to pick her up and carry her off so he could kiss those soft lips that were spewing the latest liberal drivel. “Besides, if you want scotch instead of champagne, then ask for it. Don’t wait for a man to offer it to you.”

  He knew he’d scored a point when her lips pressed together. “I think my comment was more directed towards the fact that you have the manners of a jerk. Common courtesy would have you ask if I wanted champagne instead of simply handing me the glass.” The waiter arrived at that moment with his scotch and she handed him her glass of champagne. “Another please, and you’d better make mine a double.”

  The waiter’s eyes widened, but he turned right around and left to get her a scotch.

  “Think you can handle the tough stuff?” he asked, and watched her eyes.

  She shifted slightly, almost as if she were readying for battle. “Oh yea. I can handle anything you throw at me, big boy.”

  He leaned down, very close. “I’m not a boy, Tallia. Be warned, I don’t fight fair.”

  She leaned in as well and he could smell the delicate scent of something flowery. “I’m well-armed myself. Bring it on!”

  He laughed and pulled back, unable to hide the admiration in his eyes.

  Stephen was distracted from making his next comment by a noise to his right.

  “Guys, you’re wanted in the kitchen for some reason,” Jane called out, glancing at both Tallia and the man behind her, but she smiled politely as she waved both of them out of the area where the photographer was finally packing up.

  “Weren’t you at the pool earlier this afternoon?” he asked.

  Tallia ignored him as she wove her way through the guests that were talking and laughing.

  “You were, weren’t you?” he laughed. “I think you were wearing a blue bikini and something weird in your hair.”

  She whipped around to glare up at him, but he was closer than she’d anticipated and his arms caught her before she could fall on her fanny. Stepping back, she poked a finger in the middle of his chest. “I wasn’t wearing anything weird in my hair. It was just a bandana and it held my hair out of my eyes.”

  He grinned down at her. “Yeah, it was weird. But cute, in a sexy, bohemian sort of way.”

  She heard the scoffing in his voice and tried once again to ignore him, but something niggled in the back of her mind, something she couldn’t really place.

  “Markum!” a voice called out and the towering jerk behind her stopped to glad-hand one of the other guests. As he discussed some event they’d both attended recently, she watched the man in question, admitting silently that he was an extraordinarily handsome man. For a republican, she conditioned. He was tall and rugged, with broad shoulders. The man wore a tuxedo extremely well, but she wouldn’t concede credit to him for that. His parents had simply passed down good genes.

  “You gentlemen have…” she started to tell him she was leaving, but he reached out, wrapping his strong fingers around her upper arm, holding her in place. She started to tell him to stop trying to manipulate her, but his hand moved from her arm to her back. The shock that hit her was even stronger than when they’d been enduring the picture-taking experience. It took her several moments to pull herself together.

  He must have heard her sharp inhalation and looked over at her, his eyes telling her that he knew exactly what he was doing. Oh, that wasn’t fair! She bristled next to the man, but his thumb did that rubbing thing again and her knees almost gave out on her.

  Now was definitely not the time to realize that her back was an erogenous zone. And it was doubly horrible since this particular man, a man who represented everything she disagreed with politically and socially, had discovered that zone.

  “Jonathan!” another couple called out and the man speaking to Stephen turned his head and smiled, waving to the couple. “I’ll talk to you later,” the man said to Stephen, then nodded in her direction and hurried off, leaving her alone with the irritating jerk who…was doing it again! Damn him! She shifted so that his hand wasn’t against her back.

  Thankfully, he moved his hand to the small of her back and took the glass the waiter was bringing her way. Plucking it off of the tray, he poured most of it into his own glass, handing the rest to her. “Thanks for the drink.”

  She looked down at the lovely crystal glass, wanting to smack him for stealing most of the scotch. When she looked back up at him, she was glaring, and holding back on several epithets that wouldn’t be appropriate in this setting. “Do your fans know how irritating you are in real life?”

  He laughed again. “I’m only this irritating around you. You’re easy to rile,” he came back.

  Tallia bristled at the implication that she wasn’t controlled enough to hold on to her temper. That wasn’t a fair statement since he was doing everything he could to provoke her. “I thought Phillip had better taste in friends,” she replied, feeling proud of herself for that comeback. “Or at least friends who could write a more comprehensive opinion. Your latest book release only discussed half the argument.”

  His smile turned sexy. But then again, did the man have any other kind of smile? “So, you’ve read my books?”

  She had. They were brilliant actually. Well, brilliant for a conservative republican. Steven Markum was a foreign correspondent that had covered wars and famines, uprisings and natural disasters in just about every country in the world. He’d reported in the areas of the world that other reporters were too afraid to go into and he got the most amazing interviews with people other journalists couldn’t even get a return phone call from. How this man obtained sit-down conversations, on film, with some of the best and worst people this world had to offer, she couldn’t imagine. But s
he had to give him credit for his tenacity and bravery.

  It wasn’t his reporting that she had an issue with. The man had sort of retired from covering the wars and danger zones around the globe and had written one book after another outlining the conservative agenda, criticizing the liberal efforts, and explaining why the democrats were wrong on just about every issue.

  As a liberal democrat, she disagreed with all of his points and hated that he had such a large audience for his books. In addition, she also hated that he was so amazingly eloquent and convincing.

  “I haven’t read your books. I don’t read offensive, conservative potboilers.”

  “How do you know they are offensive, conservative reading if you haven’t read them?”

  Caught! He was right, but she wasn’t conceding. Yes, she’d read all of his books. She might not agree with his conclusion, but she’d been impressed with his writing style and well though-out arguments. Tallia wouldn’t let him know that she had read all of them though! “I read the first book. It wasn’t good enough for me to waste my time on your others.”

  He shifted, his broad shoulders almost entirely blocking out the light from the crystal chandelier above. “Which issue do you disagree with me about?” he asked.

  “Your perspective on women’s issues in third world countries left out several salient solutions,” she told him.

  “Such as?”

  “You focus too much on the legal challenges. Women need jobs and financial independence. New laws would be wonderful and offer a level of protection, but laws won’t be enforced until perceptions change. Those perceptions can’t change until everyone, men, women and children, see every human being as a whole person worthy of rights. And that starts with getting every person who wants a job into the work force on an equal basis. Once that’s in place, women will be able to stand up and demand the laws to protect them. In an ideal world, the laws and perceptions happen at the same time. But it has been proven that laws change after perceptions shift.”

  “I discussed the need for women’s financial independence when talking about the World Trade Organization’s efforts and role in third world funding.”

  She shook her head, getting into her argument. “That was three books later. And your argument for women’s financial independence was buried in chapter six, which was in between chapters discussing tariffs and narcotic infiltration. Not really the cohesive argument that you normally present in your publications.”

  The slow, sexy smile that formed on his features caused Tallia’s stomach to tighten with awareness of him as a male, a tall, charming and extremely brilliant male. A dangerous combination in this situation.

  “I thought you said you hadn’t read my other books, Tallia,” he murmured, his hand coming up to twist a lock of her soft, brown hair. “I think you’re a liar. What else are you lying about?”

  Caught again! Darn him! Unfortunately, his touch was sending shivers of awareness throughout her whole body, making it hard for her to concentrate on defending her opinions. “I’m sure you’re egomaniacal enough to think that all women should faint when you glance their way, but some females are a bit more discerning when they choose their male companionship.”

  “And what kind of man catches your eye, Tempting Tallia?” he asked, moving closer as another guest tried to move past them. But when the guest had passed by, Stephen didn’t move back away.

  “Don’t call me that,” she whispered, trying to create more space between their bodies. Unfortunately, she was much more aware of him than she’d like to admit, and definitely more aware of him than she’d like him to realize. Seeing the heat in his eyes, Tallia doubted that she was fooling him in any way.

  “Why? You are extremely tempting.”

  She rolled her eyes, not believing him for a moment. She knew this kind of guy. He strolled through bars and social events, picking up whatever woman looked like the easiest bimbo to drape on his arm.

  “Did this act work on the blond Barbie you tried to pick up by the pool earlier today?” she asked, then bit her tongue as she realized that she’d admitted to seeing him earlier today. Darn it! She wasn’t in top form today!

  He didn’t rise to that comment, preferring to focus on her. “I have no idea. I’ve never been attracted to stupid women.”

  “Fortunately for me,” she pulled away from his touch, “I’ve never been attracted to conservative republicans spouting fallacious opinions,” she snapped. Straightening her shoulders, she turned around, feeling proud of herself for getting in the last word and walking away from him. He was way too dangerous and wrong on so many levels. Stephen Markum represented everything she fought against every day in her articles. And she didn’t believe that he was truly attracted to her. He was just manipulating her to make a fool out of her. Not going to happen, she told herself.

  He laughed as she walked away, but not fast enough. She heard him loud and clear when he pointed out, “You aren’t immune, Tallia. I can see it in your eyes.”

  Chapter 3

  Tallia stood out on the stone portico, reading through the latest e-mail on her cell phone as she waited for the taxi to arrive. The sounds of the party behind her floated through the open windows, but she blocked them out. She had to get out of here, unable to wait for Jane to be ready to leave. Becca had already headed back to the hotel, so it was really just a matter of waiting for the cab to arrive. She desperately needed fresh air and some time alone to process the evening’s events and conversations. For the past hour, she’d been tense and jumpy, worried that Stephen Markum would pop up behind her again. Several times, she’d seen him across the room and every time, he’d been looking directly at her. She hated the way her cheeks had warmed with color whenever he caught her glance and had tried to look away, but the connection was too strong. Until another guest stepped between them, breaking the connection, she’d been transfixed.

  So now she was heading back to the hotel early, exhausted from the seemingly unending tension and ready to curl up in the middle of the huge, white bed in her suite and bury herself in yummy, decadent chocolate and a good romance novel. Both were her secret indulgence. As a political journalist, Tallia had to keep up with current affairs for her job, know all the issues and their arguments, but she still loved to bury her nose in a sexually fraught, intensely mindless romantic story. It made all of the stress of her day and her job disappear.

  “You’re leaving early?”

  All that stress she’d been trying to obliterate ramped up several notches as the deep voice sounded behind her. Him again! Goodness, she might have spoken to him only during that one conversation…or argument…earlier in the evening and during the photography session, but she definitely recognized his voice. No one else had a voice that deep and smooth, that sexy.

  She turned around, determined to be polite this time. She didn’t want to argue with this man anymore. It didn’t matter that she’d felt exhilarated at the time. Tallia somehow felt as if she’d come out the loser during their earlier battle and…well, she was exhausted. Any conversation with Stephen Markum required her full concentration. Anything less and…well, she wasn’t sure what might happen.

  So she plastered a smile on her features and turned to face the man, ignoring the spike of awareness that hit her tired body when she watched him pull his tuxedo tie off and stuff it into his pocket. “I’m tired. Ready to pass out on a soft…” she stopped, refusing to say “bed”. Especially when his eyes lit up with interest and amusement. She didn’t like either, one was disturbing and the other was irritating. “I’ve just had a long day.”

  He tilted his head towards the parking attendant who immediately rushed over to grab his valet ticket, and disappeared into the darkness of the night, eager to retrieve the man’s car. “Has the valet gotten your car yet?” he asked her, looming too close to her.

  Oh no! This couldn’t be good. “I’m waiting on a cab,” she had to admit, especially since she heard the start of a motor break through the stillness of
the humid, night air. The other valet was leaning against the podium, waiting for other guests to come out.

  “It doesn’t make any sense for you to catch a cab. We’re staying at the same hotel and both of us are obviously ready to leave. I’ll drive you back.”

  She quickly shook her head, not wanting to be in the close confines of his vehicle. “I’m fine,” she replied, trying to be polite about it.

  “Stephen!” a blonde woman called out, sidling up next to him. “Where are you off to so early tonight?” she asked softly. Her long, red-tipped fingers caressed the white of his shirt and the woman laughed suggestively.

  Tallia turned away and put several feet of space between them, not wanting to be a witness to this interaction. Especially since jealousy seared through her body at the tall, leggy, blond with the sequined dressed that was basically painted onto her skinny figure.

  “Donna, how are you?” he asked, stepping away and holding the woman at arm’s length.

  Tallia didn’t do a fist pump in the air at his subtle rejection, but she wanted to. She still had to turn her back on the couple, not wanting him to see the smile of victory at the subtle rejection. Lowering her head, she pretended to be reading something on her cell phone.

  The woman’s husky, low laughter reached her and Tallia had to refrain from rolling her eyes in disgust. “I thought we could finish our conversation in a more private location,” she said, her voice dropping to a suggestive level. There was no doubt about what their conversation might include, lots of “Yes!” and “More!” would probably be some of the blonde’s more articulate moments.

  Okay, that was catty, Tallia thought, staring down at her phone and willing the cab driver to text her that he was close by.

  Nothing.

  “You want to talk about the current administration’s use of tariffs to manage and promote their political agenda?” he asked.