Page 20 of 7 Days and 7 Nights

He used the truth and their memories to probe beneath the cool exterior, hoping to find the woman who had once dwelt inside. “Do you remember?”

Olivia’s eyes were suddenly wary. Unsure whether she was about to turn tail and run or round on him with teeth bared, Matt turned and glanced up at the flat-screen TV, still showing the live stream that their viewers were watching. What he saw there at first stopped him cold and then filled him with delight. He cocked his head and studied the screen a moment longer while he considered the possibilities.

The shot revealed the mostly empty bottle of wine, the two wine glasses, and himself and Dr. O engaged in what appeared to be an intimate tete-a-tete. The viewers would see only what was framed in the camera, and that didn’t include the snarl springing to Olivia’s lips or the warning glint stealing into her eyes.

“Nice try, Matt.”

She uncrossed her long legs and sat up straighter on her stool. The steely look she sent him made him grateful that Mother Nature hadn’t seen fit to endow her with the defense mechanisms of either the skunk or the porcupine. With the live stream and its misleading image in the forefront of his mind, he maintained the illusion of intimacy by staying put.

“Don’t think you’re going to use what was between us, Matt. I already regret that we ever had a past, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure we don’t have a future.”

He put a hand out to cup the back of her neck and used his thumb to caress her cheek once more. She tensed at his touch, but he ignored it, keeping his voice low and his body language intentionally intimate. “You go ahead and give it your best shot, Olivia. But I still remember every delicious thing about you, and as you may have noticed, I’ve learned a thing or two about good food over the last eight years.”

“You really think you’re every woman’s fantasy, don’t you? You’ve been listening to your own show too long. I am not even remotely tempted.”

“Liar.” Even to his ears, the word sounded suspiciously like a caress. Matt smiled as Olivia slipped out from beneath his hand. He couldn’t help admiring the picture she presented as she made her exit—striding across the living room with her head held high and her shoulders thrown back. She sat on the edge of the couch, her posture painfully correct, and picked up the TV remote like a queen reaching for her scepter. Very carefully she tuned CNN in and, he suspected, the disturbing Matt Ransom out.

Being dismissed didn’t bother Matt in the least. He’d noticed the way Olivia had responded to him.

If he wanted to come out of this week the victor, undermining his opponent’s formidable powers of self-control would certainly give him an advantage.

It was time to bring out the big guns, time to lay siege to Dr. Moore’s castle of calm. Thanks to the live stream and some creative camera angles, he now knew exactly how to breach her defenses.

All he had to do was make history repeat itself.

Chapter Eight

In the WTLK control room, Charles Crankower studied the live stream with interest. At the audio board, with his back to Charles, Matt’s producer, Ben Markum, set up for the night’s show. Olivia’s producer stood next to him discussing some problem with the on-hold system that she wanted fixed before morning. Charles tuned them both out to concentrate on the drama unfolding on the screen.

Matt and Olivia sat at the counter with a bottle of wine between them. They looked much cozier than he would have expected, and as he watched, Matt not only reached out and cupped the back of the doctor’s neck, but caressed her cheek with his hand. Charles waited for Matt to either kiss her or get smacked, but neither happened.

A glance out of the corner of his eye confirmed that the couple on the screen now had Ben’s and Diane’s attention, too. In silence, the three of them watched Olivia storm off to the couch while Matt cleaned up the kitchen, and he knew he wasn’t the only one wondering what in the hell was going on.

When Matt moved to sit down at the audio board, Olivia passed by him without a glance, and all three of them watched her bedroom door close behind her.

Charles was still puzzling over what he’d seen as Matt put on his headphones, propped his feet up on the audio table, and leaned back in his chair.

“What do you think, Ben?” Charles started at the sound of Matt’s voice booming over the control room speakers. “How long do you think it’ll take me to have her eating out of my hand?”

Ben looked over his shoulder at Diane and Charles. “Hey, Matt, there’s, uh...”

Matt laughed. "Forget about eating out of my hand. I’ll bet you a hundred bucks I’ll have her flat on her back before the end of the week.”

Diane Lowe froze, while Ben hurried to cut his boss off. “Matt, this isn’t a good time to...”

Ben put on his headphones and shut off the control room speaker, turning the conversation private. After aiming a withering glare at Ben, Diane stormed out of the room, but Charles just sat there thinking about the possibilities. This promotion was his brainchild, and he intended to use it to prove he could handle things at WTLK without interference from the corporate office. What better way to preserve his autonomy than with a local promotion that garnered major attention?

Charles smiled at the thought because anything even resembling a relationship between the proper Dr. Moore and the alley cat Matt Ransom would warrant that kind of attention. It was his job to make sure of it.

At 9:45 P.M. Olivia locked her bedroom door, slid between crisp, cool sheets, and congratulated herself on surviving her first day of captivity. She’d taken a few hits, but she was still alive. For a good five minutes, she reveled in her newly appreciated privacy, breathing the quiet into her being and attempting to exhale the anxiety.

Snuggling deep under the covers, she breathed in the good thoughts and tried to breathe out the bad. She could do this… of course she could. All she needed was a good night’s sleep.

Olivia closed her eyes and tried to drift off, but her brain refused to shut down. Old memories, the very ones she’d spent most of the evening trying to block, rose up to taunt her: the feel of Matt Ransom’s skin against hers, the merging of his body into hers, the utter contentment of drifting off to sleep in the shelter of his arms.

She breathed in and she breathed out until she was huffing and puffing like the Big Bad Wolf, but sleep eluded her. With a groan, Olivia sat up in bed, clicked on the TuneIn Radio app on her phone, and hit play onGuy Talk.

“Thanks for the donation, man. Remember, you can donate food or money, and you can donate it in the name of guys everywhere. To find out how we’re stacking up against the ladies, just log onto our website for an up-to-the-minute tally.”

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