An Unlikely Match (The Match Series - Book #1) by Barbara Dunlop Page A

improvising.
    “ Drake told me it was in the master bedroom.”
    Morgan frowned in mock displeasure. “Drake needs to stop compromising my investigation.”
    Amelia couldn’t help thinking he was a pretty good actor.
    She put a gentle hand on his arm. “Please don’t blame Drake.”
    “ Then tell me the truth.”
    “This is the truth.”
    Morgan grinned and relaxed. “I have to say, I believe you.”
    “Yeah?” she asked.
    “You do innocent very well.”
    “Okay.” She reached back and dragged the fastener from her ponytail. Then she pulled the cover-up over her head and tossed it onto the chair.
    “One second ,” she promised, scooting over the fence between their yards, retrieving a pair of high-heeled sandals from beside the patio door.
    She came back and slipped them on to her feet. Then she mussed her hair a little bit and moistened her lips. She narrowed her eyes, tightening her jaw.
    “Okay, go,” she told Morgan.
    He put on his stern look again. “What did you do with the painting?”
    She moved in close, tossing her hair, smirking ever so slight ly. “I never even saw the painting.”
    “You were at the party.”
    “Everybody who is anybody was at the party.”
    “ Did you go upstairs?”
    Amelia gave a knowing smile , walking her fingers along his T-shirt-covered chest. “Whatever are you suggesting, Captain?”
    He sucked in a breath. “I’m suggesting you stole the painting.”
    “From the master bedroom?”
    “How did you know it was in the master bedroom?”
    She inched closer. “Drake, of course.”
    “ Drake needs to stop compromising my investigation.”
    She placed the flat of her hand against his chest, feeling the beat of his heart. Then she stretched up, putting her lips next to his ear, brushing her cheek ever so slightly against his as she whispered , “If I stole the painting, Captain, you’ll never prove it.”
    “ A little forced.” He cleared his throat and abruptly stepped away from her.
    “You didn’t like it?” she asked, disappointment washing over her.
    “The innocent side was perfect. But you seemed to be overacting with the other.”
    “Thanks.” She pulled the cover-up over her head, feeling suddenly embarrassed and exposed.
    “Would you rather I lied?”
    “ Of course not.”
    “ You can practice.”
    “Sure. Yeah. I’ll practice.” She took a drink from her wineglass. Of maybe it was his wineglass. Whatever. She didn’t really care.
    “I didn’t say it to upset you.” He sounded genuinely remorseful. “I was trying to help.”
    An answer didn’t immediately spring to her mind. She hadn’t wanted him to lie. But she’d definitely wanted to impress him.
    “Maybe I should skip the audition.”
    “You mean stay home and pout instead?”
    She shot him a glare.
    “ You’re going to have to develop a thicker skin, Amelia.”
    “My skin’s plenty thick.” She’d taken all of her rejection in stride so far.
    “Life up to now has n’t toughened you up much, has it?” His skepticism was clear.
    Then h e glanced at the table, and an expression of confusion crossed his face. She realized she had in fact taken his wineglass. But as quick as the confusion appeared, it disappeared. He lifted the remaining glass and put it to his lips.
    “ You don’t know what my life’s been like,” she pointed out.
    “Do tell.” He sat back down and waited.
    “ Nobody ever takes me seriously. My parents, my brother. Just because I’m pretty, they think I’m an airhead. They don’t think I know it, but that’s what they call me. Amelia Airhead. My whole life, whenever something serious came up, they’ve patted me patronizingly on the head and told me to run along and play. They don’t expect anything of me.”
    “What do you expect of you?”
    The question surprised Amelia. Nobody had ever asked her that. She wasn’t sure how to answer.
    “It doesn’t matter what they expect or don’t expect,” Morgan continued. “You’re the one who