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Kinsey watched her prey with the eye of a hunter. She took quiet, unassuming steps, and stalked the clever Ty Serpent. Every instinct led her to the millionaire for a story. She had debated the choice with great care and consideration for what she might suffer. After all, she’d known him before his wealth—before her heartbreak. They’d parted on bad terms, and it had taken a long time to get beyond the concept of forever with him.
“Excuse me, miss?” A voice turned her gaze from her quarry, and she faced a waiter holding a tray of champagne-filled crystal glasses.
“What is it?” Irritable and apprehensive about approaching Ty, she waited for the man’s response with impatience.
“Would you like a drink, miss?”
“No.” She turned back to check Ty’s whereabouts.
He was gone.
Kinsey travelled the room in search of the man who fascinated her more than anything else she’d ever encountered. She gave a polite smile with the shake of her head each time someone approached with the words barely uttered, “Would you like to dance?”
Two men she’d seen Ty talking to had remained pillars at the entrance to the ballroom. Bodyguards, she assumed, by the brawny build of them. Their presence made her believe he hadn’t left.
Continuing her perusing stroll around the guests clustered in all corners of the room, she came to a halt near a large, potted plant. She took a deep breath in attempts to regroup her thoughts. Just business, she reminded herself. She wanted the hardcore assignments at the newspaper—white-collar crime, instead of puff pieces on puppies and good Samaritans. The money was better, and if she ever hoped to pull herself out of debt, she needed a higher paying position. Ten years of living on credit had put her in a big sinkhole of financial ruin.
When she had gone to her boss for the umpteenth time about taking on a serious project, she hadn’t wanted the usual “No, you’re not experienced enough,” rejection. So she’d used the only ammunition she had—Ty Serpent. He was big news. No one had yet gotten close enough to get a good story on him. Rumours tied his wealth to the underworld. It made him fodder for all forms of media. Still, not a single reporter had gotten a personal in-depth interview with him. She would. With her and Ty’s background, he owed her.
After Kinsey had gotten past her boss’ scepticism by showing him her scrapbook of photos and wedding announcements, she had the assignment. Why she’d kept the mementos of her disastrous relationship with Ty was a mystery, until she saw they were her ticket to a better career. It made her a believer in fate.
“Looking for me, Miss Waters?” The masculine voice sent shivers through her, and she tensed as if she hadn’t expected a climax of old emotions to rise.
Ever since dragging that scrapbook out, she’d felt angry, depressed, yet nostalgic. The sultry resonance of Ty’s deep voice rang with a familiar sexiness that stirred her desires. The hint of danger in his tone added a new level of attractiveness. What didn’t draw her to him?