No Wife Required!. Rebecca WintersЧитать онлайн книгу.
something intimate about that male assessment which made her heart give a little thump.
His gaze flicked to her face, studying her classic features, the cut of her cap of glossy black curls.
“I guess I’d better answer it,” his producer finally murmured, and disappeared.
“Lorraine?” Her host extended his hand as she rose to her feet. “I’m Max Jarvis. We’ll be going on the air after world news. If you’ll step into the booth, I’ll acquaint you with the setup. As Rob said, you don’t need to be uncomfortable. If you come across the way you did when you called in last week, we ought to have a lively half hour.”
She bit on the velvety underside of her lip with her small, even white teeth.
“It’s a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Jarvis, but I have a problem. I came in early, hoping I could talk to you before the broadcast.”
Max’s lips twitched. “I hope it’s not serious,” he called over his shoulder as she followed him down the hall and into the booth with her briefcase in hand.
“I’m afraid it is.” She sat down in the chair he indicated and opened her briefcase, pulling out a legal-size folder. “This file contains information on Dr. Ryder I think you should see, but Nester warned me I couldn’t talk about it over the air.”
“Nester?”
“Nester Morgan, of Morgan and Morgan law firm. I’m a close friend of his as well as being his CPA. He said you’re free to look at the information. In fact, I hoped you would have time before we went on the air. It’s a printout about Dr. Ryder’s credentials.
“Among other things you’ll discover that his real name is Horace Farr. He’s a doctor of divinity, not psychology. There’s a copy of his transcript and it only lists a few psychology classes. You’ll also find out that ten years ago he was excommunicated from his church for preaching false doctrine from the pulpit.
“If you read further, you’ll see that he changed his name and started his own church before this book came out. One of his followers lived with him until she’d given him all her money, then he left her and moved in with someone else. She came to Nester to try to get her money back.”
Max took the file from her well-manicured hands and quickly perused some of the findings. After a moment, he sent her a long, penetrating glance.
“I’m amazed you would allow anyone to see this,” he muttered in a serious tone. “You must be on amazing terms with...Nester,” he mocked dryly. “In fact, you could be arrested if this information were leaked to the public. Why risk it?” He sounded genuinely surprised.
She bristled. “Because your show is listened to by thousands of people who hang on your every word, and I hate it when you go on about a guest when you don’t know the real truth. The fact is, you’re from—”
“California,” he supplied in a testy tone.
“Yes,” she affirmed haughtily because he’d made her so mad.
He sucked in his breath. “I bow to your superior knowledge on this one, Lorraine. It appears I’m going to have to be much more thorough in my background checks from now on.” He flashed her a quick smile. This time it made her heart turn over. “What else do you have in that proverbial bag of tricks?”
She chuckled softly. “Nothing which could get me into a legal entanglement.”
“But I might have to eat crow.”
“Maybe a little. I’ve lived here all my life.”
His eyes blazed a hot blue. “And I haven’t.”
“Correct. And it shows. Dr. Ryder comes off sounding smooth, but his central Utah accent gives him away.”
He held her glance until she felt the heat rise to her face. “An honest woman who speaks her mind...”
Beneath his words were serious undertones. A strange shiver chased across her skin.
“All right, we’re on in thirty seconds. Pick a subject and we’ll talk about it. We won’t discuss your views on Dr. Ryder unless a listener brings it up. Fair enough?”
He moved too fast for her. “More than fair.”
“We’ve got ten seconds. What shall we talk about first?”
She seized on the first thought to enter her head. “Football and romance.”
One brow quirked. “Something tells me I might be sorry.” While Lacey reacted to his quiet irony, he spoke into the mike. “Welcome to Radio Talk. Tonight we have a guest who is going to give me a little lesson about the differences between men and women.
“Lorraine is in the booth now, and I think what we’ll do is conduct a poll. For each issue we touch on, we’ll have our listening audience call in their vote. Make it a ‘yes’ if you agree with Lorraine.
“If you don’t go along with her opinion, make it a ‘no.’ I’ll have my producer tally the votes at the end of the program. Is that all right with you, Lorraine?”
“That’s fine, Mr. Jarvis. But if I get more yeses than noes, will you give me a free sample of that lotion Lon Freeman pushes on the morning show? I want to see if it’s really as miraculous as he says it is.”
A nerve twitched in his jaw, letting her know she’d said something to amuse him. Unable to resist, she added, “The other day he interrupted a dialogue with an important spokesman from the United Nations, just to advertise it. He has interrupted a lot of famous guests for the same reason, and I can’t figure out why.
“He didn’t use to do things like that, and I’m afraid he’s losing his listeners, which would be a shame since he’s always been a local favorite.”
“Rob—” The exciting man seated next to her called to his producer. “Why don’t we take a poll on that issue first?”
She decided Max was trying to smother a laugh, which relieved her nervousness a little.
“Let’s find out if our listeners agree with her. If they do, we’ll pass the information along to Lon. To think I believed myself to be the only one in the doghouse with Lorraine.
“She wants to talk about football and romance. I have a feeling we’re in for a provocative half hour. Lorraine—” His eyes impaled her. “The audience is as curious as I am to know why you’ve chosen those two particular topics as a lead-in for tonight’s show.”
Lacey had to give Max Jarvis full marks for diplomacy. She’d been waiting for him to make a cutting remark about the fact that she hadn’t published a book or distinguished herself in any way to merit being a guest on his show.
But he didn’t use those kinds of tactics. As far as she could see, he was open, fair, honest, decent, and he definitely lived up to her image of The Voice.
Clearing her throat, she said, “Last week you sided with dozens of men callers who complained about the large number of women who waste their time going to romantic movies and reading romance novels. You said, and I quote, ‘The story lines are boring and repetitious because all the two people ever do is fall in love, get married, and live happily ever after.’”
He grinned. “I did say that.”
She schooled her features not to let his charisma disturb her train of thought. “The same point could be made that men waste their time watching soccer or football. The plays are repetitious and boring, and everyone knows either side A or side B is going to win. At least in a romance, everyone goes home happy after the game is over.”
His eyes were dancing. “That’s true. And my producer is signaling me that all the lines are lit up, anxious to jump in. You’re on the line, Anna.”
It was difficult, if not impossible, to remain irritated with him. Later he conceded defeat with such good-natured humor, when he asked her to stay