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with a loud slam, the silence within seeming extra quiet, and he breathed deep, taking in her unique, fresh scent.
    “I stink of cheap soap,” she muttered disgustedly.
    He burst out laughing. “Was I that obvious in smelling you?”
    “Yes. The hotel is lovely, but the soap they carry is mediocre at best and stinks terribly.” She wrinkled her nose, shook her head. “I apologize if it’s offensive.”
    “It’s not offensive at all. I think you smell good,” he drawled, keeping his voice soft so he wouldn’t make her think he was flirting.
    Because he wasn’t. Not really. It was work talk. Right?
    Her cheeks turned a rosy pink at his compliment. “I’m being rude, insulting the soap from the hotel of your choice.”
    “You’re the professional.” He shrugged. “I don’t normally pay attention to things like that.”
    She frowned. “You don’t care about scent?”
    “Oh, I care. Why else do you think I’m heading the project?”
    “Now I’m insulting you. I should keep my mouth shut.” She ducked her head.
    “You’re not insulting me.” He knew an insult when he heard one. He’d had enough experience with them, especially from Hunter. “You have a sensitive nose so that’s why you notice such things. You’re trained to do so.”
    “I do have a sensitive nose. And I’m highly trained.” She lifted her head, her blue gaze meeting his. If she was trying to run down her resume to impress him, she didn’t need to. He had faith. Maybe blind faith, but there it was.
    “So let me ask you a question.” He leaned in a little closer, his eyes riveted to her face. There didn’t appear to be a hint of makeup on her skin, maybe some shimmery gloss on her lush mouth but nothing else. Her cheeks were flushed from her earlier embarrassment, giving her an innocent air he found impossibly alluring. “Do you think I smell like cheap soap?”
    Her lips parted, the faintest gasp emitting from her and he knew he shocked her with his blatant question. But hell, he wanted her opinion. He’d been told he smelled good in the past. He wasn’t going to deny it. He wasn’t one to slather on a variety of scents, either. And he knew he’d get an honest answer out of her. “No,” she whispered, her eyes wide.
    He cocked a brow. “That’s all I get? A simple no? No analysis, no breakdown of the various products I use?”
    She shook her head. “You don’t use much.”
    “And how can you tell?” He was challenging her but he was truly curious.
    “You don’t smell like a variety of products.” She sounded stiff, nervous, and he instantly regretted making her feel that way.
    They remained silent for a moment. Rhett glanced out the window, watching the city lights pass by as the driver headed to the chosen restaurant. He looked at his watch, saw that they had plenty of time and thankfully, traffic was light.
    But he couldn’t stop mulling over Gabriella’s assessment. How did she know that he didn’t use much? What exactly did she mean by that? And did she think he smelled bad? Odd? Good?
    He was dying to know. Jesus, he was acting like a vain, arrogant ass.
    “So what exactly do I smell like?”
    Their gazes met yet again and she studied him for a moment before she answered. “You’re not wearing cologne.”
    “You’re right.” He’d run out of the last one he’d owned and never replaced it.
    “Your deodorant is unscented.”
    Right again. Though for whatever reason, he was embarrassed to confirm that observation. No one he knew spoke of deodorant.
    Rhett frowned. Now he was thinking like a prim little miss.
    “The soap you use has a hint of pine. Musk.” She shook her head, her lips turning up at the corners. “If you knew what the base of musk was, you’d stop using it.”
    “That bad?”
    “Awful.” She smiled and it was like an arrow pierced his heart. She was gorgeous in her simplicity. Like a ray of sunshine. “I’ll spare you the details.”
    “I’ll let it go for now. But