Tempo Of Love. Kianna Alexander

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СКАЧАТЬ a button-down shirt in a soft shade of blue and navy blue slacks. A belt with a gold buckle depicting two crossed swords encircled his trim waist. He was taller than she’d expected, and his upper body was muscled but not beefy. He moved with a sure stride, his entire manner radiating a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

      She stood at the table and called out to him at just above normal volume. “Mr. Yamada?”

      His head swiveled her way. “That’s me.” And he turned, began moving in her direction.

      She watched his approach, wondering when he would take off his sunglasses. She knew she could get a much better read on him if she could see his eyes.

      When he entered her space, he stopped. Lifting his hand, he removed his sunglasses and tucked them into his shirt pocket, looking down as he did so.

      “I’m Nona Gregory with the Charlotte Observer.” She stuck out her hand.

      When he looked back up at her, with his eyes in full view, Nona’s heart skipped a beat. Damn. He had the most beautiful, expressive brown eyes she’d ever seen. They were rich and dark, only a shade lighter than the jet black of his hair. A few moments passed with her staring into his eyes, silent and entranced.

      The corners of his mouth lifted in a slight smile as he gave her hand a brief shake, then released it. “It’s nice to meet you. Are we going to sit?”

      His words reached her ears, working their way to her brain for processing.

      Snapping out of her trance, she gestured him toward his seat. “Yes. Thank you for meeting me, Mr. Yamada, although I wish you’d been on time.”

      The smile faded as quickly as it appeared. “I’m sorry, Headmistress. Are you going to give me detention?”

      She cocked a brow. Apparently, the architect was no pushover. “I’ll let it slide this time, since it’s your first infraction.” She gestured to the table. “Shall we sit, or do you care to grab a coffee?”

      “I’ll get a drink first, if you don’t mind.” His tone was dry, and his expression told her that he had fully intended to get his drink, whether she minded or not.

      “Go ahead.” She sat back down and watched him walk away. As he stood at the counter ordering a beverage, she watched his every move. His steps were somewhat stiff now, a contrast to the way he’d moved when he’d walked in. His body language had changed as well. His shoulders were squared, hands clenched at his side. He looked more ready for a fistfight than an interview.

      Then and there, Nona knew she would have her work cut out. He was guarded, and she was going to have to come up with some way to get him to reveal himself to her.

      And she’d have to do it while trying to ignore how hot he was and how gorgeous his eyes were.

      This wouldn’t be an easy interview. But she’d never been one to back down from a challenge.

      * * *

      While he waited for his dark roast, Ken purposefully kept his eyes on the barista dispensing it. He didn’t want to look back at Nona, because he sensed her watching him. She’d been assessing him from the moment he walked in. While he understood her scrutiny was likely rooted in journalistic curiosity, he still didn’t like it. He was a private man, always had been. The last thing he needed was someone to stare him down in some vain attempt to discover his deepest personal secrets.

      He shot a sidelong glance in her direction, making sure not to turn his head as he did. He could see her in the periphery of his field of vision. She was gorgeous, and he’d noticed that as soon as he’d seen her. She was tall, probably close to his height. Her skin was the color of rich earth, and her hair was dark brown with a few streaks of bronze. She wore a sleeveless white blouse and a pair of yellow slacks that hugged her hips before flaring into wide-leg pants.

      The moment he’d seen her sitting at the table, her back as stiff as a board, with about seven pens lined up in front of her, he’d pegged her as uptight. When she’d shaken his hand, she’d only confirmed his suspicions. He decided to entertain himself throughout this initial meeting with her. She probably wouldn’t like it, but that wasn’t any of his concern.

      After he sweetened the mug of steaming coffee to his liking, he rejoined her at the table. She was scrolling through something on her phone, but she immediately set it aside when he took his seat.

      “Since we’re getting a late start, I’d like to begin right away.” She set her phone on the table and took care positioning it.

      He leaned against the hard wooden backrest of his chair, his coffee in hand. As he tried to get comfortable, he realized the stiffness of the chair mimicked that of his interviewer. How can a woman this beautiful be so uptight? “Okay. Where do we begin?”

      Her hazel eyes locked on him, she said, “First of all, I need to let you know that I’m recording our interview with an app on my smartphone. I find it helps me with my article if I revisit the recordings later during my writing process.”

      “I understand.” He drank from his ceramic mug, letting the rich warmth of the coffee wash down his throat.

      “Good. Then let’s begin with the basics. Who is Ken Yamada?”

      He snorted. The sound came out before he could stop it.

      Her brow hitched, lips thinning as her expression went sour. “Is there something amusing about my question, Mr. Yamada?”

      “Call me Ken, please. No need to be so formal.”

      “Fine. What’s so funny, Ken?” She watched him, her brow furrowed as if she were honestly confused by his amusement.

      “It’s a little cliché, don’t you think? I mean, you’re opening our interview with some existential query?” He took another drink of coffee.

      She rolled her eyes, then took a breath. Her professional demeanor returned to replace the coolness that had been rolling off her only seconds before. “Ken, I’m sure you already know this, but the contract you just won from the city is unprecedented in terms of scope and money.”

      He set his mug down, rubbed his hands together. “Yes, that’s true.” But what she didn’t know was how long and hard he’d worked to win the contract. I deserve that contract. Hell, I earned it.

      “I’m not trying to psychoanalyze you, Ken. I know the people of Charlotte are curious about the phenom behind the Grand Pearl project, and I simply want to give them the most complete, accurate portrait of you that I can.”

      He sensed the truth in her words right away. It was obvious that Nona was a consummate journalist, determined to deliver her very best work to her readers. He supposed he could respect that, since as an artist, he wanted the same thing for every one of his projects. “I get it.”

      “I’m glad you understand. Now, what can you tell me about your early days? Tell me about your upbringing. Did you always know you wanted to be an architect?”

      He bristled at the mention of his upbringing. “I don’t really want to talk about my childhood.”

      “Is there any particular reason?”

      He sensed her probing. “Yes. It isn’t relevant. СКАЧАТЬ