Going Deep (Coastal Heat #1) by Maggie Wells Page A

the moment she set eyes on him. And now, the thought of going one minute without his hands on her left her…bereft. “You know it’s not.”
    “I don’t know a damn thing where you’re concerned.”
    Arousal flared. The sight of his bare, wet chest did nothing to quell the flames. The sun’s rays gilded the gold-brown scruff shadowing his cheeks and jaw. She had him a little off-balance, and the knowledge made her pulse race. The dark intensity in his eyes was a call to action.
    The urge to chuck her bag into the ocean and say ‘screw the interview’ was a weighty one. She didn’t need the paper to bring this story to light. Nor did she need Brian. Technically. She had the facts and the experts to back them up, even if they didn’t have his name recognition. Still, when she looked straight into those bottomless eyes, she knew she wanted to spill it all. She wanted him. Personally, professionally, and any other -ly way she could manage.
    Then the words came, flowing fast and furious, their force made her stumble back a step. “I have a story. An important story. It’s about the clean-up after the spill. The effects of the dispersants they used on aquatic and human life. Impact on the shrimping, fishing, and tourism industries. Health issues being faced by people who worked the recovery.”
    One blink. A slow, owlish flicker of long lashes. That’s all he gave her. Well, a blink and the twitch of an eyebrow. “Sounds...interesting.”
    “I have all the data. Interviews with the workers, fishermen…a few of the oil company’s contractors. I’ve been working with Dr. Johnson. He’s the department chair at the university—”
    “I know who he is.”
    The terse interruption took a little wind from her sails. “Of course.” She took a deep breath before meeting his gaze again. “Dr. Bennett over at the Horizon Institute has been verifying the data.”
    “What do you want from me?”
    “My editor is a jerk.” The possibility of her ambitions stymied by one bitter man burned.
    “And you think I’m one, too? You want me to deal with him jerk to jerk?”
    She didn’t bite on the tease. Focusing on the boats bobbing in their slips, she waited until the heat of the blush died down then attempted to explain. “Let’s say he wasn’t pleased when the gentleman from the Pulitzer committee called me and not him.”
    “I see.”
    “For a while there was nothing he could do about it. I had momentum and a certain amount of…weight.” She glanced over at him. “But you know how the news cycle runs. As the hoopla passed, Nels bumped me back to covering local artists and politicians. And not the juicy ones. I mainly profile school board elections and congressional districts where people are running unopposed.”
    “The man’s an idiot.”
    “He’s the publisher’s son.”
    “All the more reason for you to look at other opportunities.”
    The blunt assessment sparked a smile and reignited her blush. Ducking her head, she forced herself to face him again. “He never would have given me the assignment to interview you if I hadn’t made a point of exploiting our high school relationship.”
    This time both dark brows shot up. “Relationship?”
    “Nels was never big on doing in-depth research himself. He likes the facts he can skim off the top.” She waved a hand between them. “Twelve years in the same school. Naturally we were friends.”
    “Naturally.”
    “Being the salutatorian to your valedictorian didn’t hurt.”
    “I’m sure.”
    “And when I happened to mention you would be attending Saints Preserve Us….”
    “So you really are using me.”
    The amusement in his tone made it much easier to meet his gaze again. “Yes.”
    “And you want me to be featured in your story? Provide research? What?”
    “Yes.”
    “To what?”
    “To all of it,” she said with a shrug. “I need you to back me up on this.” Realizing that she’d made it personal, she started to backpedal. “I mean,