Page 13 of Anders
Anders hesitated, and she rushed to add,Just some basic questions about the area.Help me get a feel for the community.
Okay,he agreed finally.But no recordings.
Old-fashioned notes it is.She grabbed a fresh notepad, trying to ignore how her hands trembled slightly.Please, sit.
He chose a chair that gave him a clear view of the entrance.Etta found herself leaning forward unconsciously, drawn by something she couldn’t name.
So, Mr.Hamilton—
Anders,he corrected.
Anders.His name felt right on her tongue.How long have you lived in Sunburst?
All my life, except for four years in the army.
She made a note, though her pen barely touched the paper.She was too distracted by the way his scent seemed to fill the small office, making her head spin pleasantly.
And what made you choose security work?
Natural fit.His eyes—a striking hazel that seemed to shift between green and gold—studied her intently.I’m good at protecting people.
Something about the way he said it sent a shiver racing through her.Protecting them from what?
The desert can be dangerous.His voice dropped lower.Especially for those who don’t know what they’re dealing with.
The words should have sounded ominous, but instead they felt like a caress.Etta realized she’d been unconsciously leaning closer.Anders had too, his body angled toward hers as if drawn by some magnetic force.
What—Her voice came out husky.She cleared her throat and tried again.What should newcomers watch out for?
Anders’s gaze dropped to her lips for a fraction of a second.There are…predators in the area.
What kind?The question emerged as barely more than a whisper.
He was definitely closer now, though she hadn’t seen him move.The air between them felt charged, electric.Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he must be able to hear it.
The kind that might find you very interesting.His voice had roughened, taking on an almost growling quality that—much like his earlier words—probably should have frightened her but instead made heat pool in her belly.
Etta tried to maintain a professional, analytical mental distance, to focus on the interview.But her body had other ideas.Every cell seemed alive with awareness of him.His scent surrounded her, making her want to bury her face in his neck and inhale deeply.
What is wrong with me?
Anders shifted forward slightly, and for one breathless instant, she thought he was going to kiss her.Part of her—a wild, primal part she hadn’t known existed—yearned for it with frightening intensity.
Then a car horn blared outside, shattering the moment.
Etta jerked back, nearly knocking over her chair.Anders was on his feet in an instant, his quick movement so smooth it seemed impossible for someone his size.
I should go,he said, his voice rough.Patrol to finish.
Yes, of course.Etta’s own voice sounded strange to her ears.Thank you for…for the interview.
He paused at the door, his gaze intense.Be careful, Ms.Barone.Especially after dark.
Then he was gone, though his scent lingered, making it hard to think clearly.
Etta stared at her notepad, which contained exactly three words—Anders Hamilton Interview—and several meaningless squiggles.
So much for professional journalism.
