His gaze clashed with hers.
“Can we just pretend for a while that I’m not Emily Harte’s daughter? Have a little fun or something?”
Ryan nodded and a slow smile spread across his face. “I guess. What exactly did you have in mind?”
“Well, all my plans for this week are totally up in the air now.”
A forgotten memory struck. After a quick glance at her watch, she rooted in her bag. “I forgot I have a meeting in London this afternoon—I’ll have to cancel.” She couldn’t find the card she’d been given with the telephone number. Andie rubbed her chin with knuckles of the first two fingers of her left hand. Groaned aloud.
“Will the press be expecting you, wherever this meeting is?” Ryan leaned closer. He smelled of something woodsy, sandalwood maybe, mixed with man.
Andie’s fingers stilled on her handbag. Her mouth parted and she couldn’t look away from the mesmerizing emerald of his eyes. His mouth tilted upwards at the corners, and Andie’s heart started to gallop. What was the question?
His pupils expanded, and attraction sparked in the air between their bodies.
“Ryan…” She tilted her mouth up to his, saw the moment that he lost the fight and gave in to the overwhelming need that rivaled hers.
At the touch of his lips, Andie felt consciousness expanding. As if her heart was unfurling, like a banner caught in the breeze.
Passion spiked, providing an aura of volatile air, and, as Ryan’s tongue traced her bottom lip, a spark flashed, igniting a blaze of heat like a match thrown onto petrol.
She cupped his cheek, internally cursing the handbrake that stuck between their two bodies like an irritating, mechanical chaperone. His hands were everywhere. Sliding over her shoulders, stroking down her upper arms, then curling around her torso.
Andie angled her chin up as his lips traced her jawline, teasing over the sensitive skin there before following the proffered arch of her neck down to her collarbone in a series of teasing kisses.
Last night she’d wanted to make love to banish reality.
In the light of day, those fears had faded, and what was happening now had none of the taint of need about it. It was desire, pure and simple. The same desire that had swept over her when they first met. When he was just a handsome stranger holding her hand on the rollercoaster.
He’d shown himself to be a caring man. One who, like Emily, was obsessed with war zones, sure and one who wouldn’t be interested in a long-term relationship.
But none of that mattered as she breathed in his scent, felt his thick hair between her fingers. Falling in love wasn’t on her list of challenges.
But having a wild fling is.
A car horn beeped.
Ryan jerked away then put both hands on the steering wheel. He looked out the windscreen, chest still rising and falling as rapidly as Andie’s. “This is crazy.”
Andie’s heart sank into her sandals. She wanted him. Didn’t he want her too? How could he just…
A gaze full of heat slanted her direction. “Let’s go home.”
Chapter Five
It was like being on the rollercoaster all over again. The slow build up with one heat-filled glance across the car’s silent interior. The inevitability of where this wild journey was heading, ratcheted up the tension to an out of control thrill ride.
Conflicting emotions, desire and caution, warred within Ryan. The reasons for avoiding involvement were as clear today as they had been the night before, but the need, the desire glimpsed in the depths of her azure eyes had burned away the last of his resistance. Something about her pulled him in, like a fish rising to a lure. There was no turning away now. No hope of staying detached. Desire was a yearning that raced through his veins, heating his blood, and filling his mind, to the exclusion of all else.
The Audi cut cleanly through the traffic. Ryan concentrated on the road.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her fidgeting. Crossing and uncrossing her long legs, and squeezing her hands together in the lap of her skirt.
“Can I turn the radio on?”
“Do.” It would be half an hour before they got back to the cottage. When they got there he’d taste her lips again, pull her into his arms, and…
The sound of a bored announcer reading the news washed over Ryan like white noise, until he heard his own name.
“…was last seen with the war correspondent, Ryan Armstrong,” the voice intoned. “There’s no comment as yet from Miss Harte on the news that the charred and mutilated body has been identified…” Ryan turned off the radio.
He pulled into a lay-by and turned to Andie, who covered her mouth with both hands, as if to hold back whatever sound wanted to escape.
His heart sank as the passionate miasma enveloping them dissipated like mist. “I’m sorry.”
Tears threatened in the blueness of her eyes. She rolled in her bottom lip, and clenched down on it for a moment. “Hearing it again…the way she died…” Arms crossed over her torso, hugging tight.
“I know.” A deep sense of loss filled Ryan. Loss for the stolen moments yet to come. He forced the feeling away. Damped down his emotions. She needed him to be practical, to deal with this situation. Silence stretched for long moments. “We’ll go in to my office. You should make a statement.” Once the press heard from Andie, their blood lust would be satisfied. The photographers waiting outside her home would drift away, and they’d both be able to get on with their own lives.
Ryan turned the car, and headed towards London.
“I have to cancel my appointment.” Andie pulled her large black handbag from the floor and rummaged around in it, then unzipped a pocket at the front and retrieved a small white card.
She tapped in a number. “Dr. Stern? Hi, it’s Andie Harte.” A quick glance revealed she was turning the card over and over between nervous fingers. “I’m sorry for the short notice, but I have to cancel my two o’clock.”
She listened, then gave a shaky smile. “No, I’m not avoiding it. Things are crazy here…yes, the press is everywhere. I just need a few days, I’ll call next week to reschedule.”
She hung up and stuffed the things back into the bag.
Was she sick? Ryan waited for her to reveal more about the meeting she’d just cancelled, but she stayed silent.
Mere moments before they’d been preparing to go home and tumble into bed, to be as intimate as it is possible to physically be with each other. Asking about the phone call was a different type of intimate. A line he couldn’t cross.
They joined the motorway.
He called the news network through his hands-free as the powerful car ate up the miles.
“She’ll need a jacket for on-air. Navy, size ten,” he stated, acknowledging Andie’s nod with a tight smile. He glanced at his wristwatch. “Yes, schedule the segment for the three o’clock news bulletin.”
Ryan disconnected the call, and reached across to squeeze Andie’s hand briefly before returning it to the wheel. “It’ll be over soon, and tomorrow…”
He stared through the windscreen. “Let’s deal with tomorrow when it comes.”
Starting an affair with Andie when he had to get back to Bekostan and organize the interview with Arnat was crazy.
All it could be was a stolen few days of passion. He couldn’t offer more than that, but the thought of ending this before it had properly begun chewed at his gut. The sensible thing was to walk away before they got in any deeper. Before this burning inside blazed out of control, and her emotions got scorched.
But dammit, walking away was not an option.
*****
Ryan was quite something in his native environment. As they strode through the large glass double doors of the television station, many people acknowledged his presence with a nod and the occasional smile, but it wasn’t until the door swung into an inner office that anyone actually approached.
“Joe.” Ryan shook the hand of an elegantly tall, thin interviewer Andie recognized from the news
. “This is Andie.”
“Hi, Andie,” Joe said. “We’re going to do a five minute segment. I’ll ask you a couple of questions and we’ll film your answers. It won’t be live, so don’t worry about messing up. We can always re-shoot.” His warm smile was sympathetic. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Andie nodded.
“Karen here will take you into the make-up room and help you get ready.”
Andie glanced at Ryan.
“I’ll be in the control booth. You’ll be fine.” He ran his hand down her back, then turned and walked away.
She watched him go, unable to look away until he turned the corner, out of sight. The borrowed blue blazer and the careful attentions of the make-up artist lent Andie some well-needed confidence.
She still couldn’t understand why on earth the world should care what she thought about Emily’s death. She supposed it was because Emily was so famous, yet her innate privacy had led the world to believe she was single and childless. The revelation she was a mother had been almost as newsworthy as her murder. No doubt the world’s capacity for feeding on the misery of those left behind had to be assuaged somehow, but it seemed voyeuristic of the general public. Andie was determined not to let Emily’s memory down. Not to be yet another crying victim of the Bekostani regime. Ryan was nowhere to be seen, but knowing he was watching gave her courage.
The interview flowed smoothly until Joe lobbed an unexpected verbal hand-grenade. “Do you want vengeance for your mother’s murder?”
Andie stifled her gut-felt response. She did want vengeance. Wanted someone to pay for the loss of the mother she’d spent so little time with, but now wasn’t the time to admit to it.
“Many people have lost a loved one,” she answered slowly. “I wouldn’t wish this pain on anyone.” She pulled in a deep breath. “My mother spent her life bringing injustice to the attention of the world, and if there is to be a legacy from her untimely death, it should be that the world pays attention to the causes that consumed her.”
The man standing beside the camera waved a hand across his throat, and Joe relaxed. “That’s a cut, Andie. Thank you.”
A technician unclipped the tiny radio mike from the lapel of the jacket.
Was she a complete hypocrite? She’d never watched Emily’s bulletins on television; never read any of her articles. Even though she was telling everyone else to. Ryan had brought all her mother’s papers, and she hadn’t even been planning to read them.
The anchorman rose. Freed from the mike, Andie placed a hand on his jacket sleeve.
“Joe, I wonder if you could do me a favor.”
He listened intently as she asked for something she should have asked for years ago. The chance to learn more about Emily.
*****
“So, I heard you were here.” The words were accompanied by a solid thump on the back.
Ryan turned to see the head of the network, his friend, Ben Fitzgerald.
“Nothing gets past you.” He smiled. “You have spies everywhere.”
“Hey, it’s in the job description. Got a minute?”
Ryan glanced through the glass. Andie was chatting with Joe—she probably wasn’t even aware he was watching, and wouldn’t miss him for a while. “Sure.”
In Ben’s corner office, the sun streamed through the floor to ceiling windows overlooking a patch of London’s green. Ben sat on one of the large black leather chairs in a casual area, and gestured to another. “So, what’s up?”
“I brought Andie in for a segment.”
“Good idea. I appreciate you giving us an exclusive.”
Ryan stretched out his legs. An exclusive for the station hadn’t even crossed his mind. It had just seemed important to get the whole thing finished. To move everything on to the next level. It was too difficult to explain all that, so he brushed it off. “No problem.”
“You want a drink?”
“I’m fine.” Ryan’s gaze flicked to the clock on Ben’s wall.
“I wanted to talk to you, so I’m glad you’re here.” Ben linked his hands behind his head. “There’s a shake-up on the cards. The head of foreign news handed in his resignation. He wants to retire.”
Ryan felt his eyebrows rise. “I didn’t see that coming.”
“Neither did we.” Ben’s hands dropped to rub his thighs. “To be honest, it’s left us in a difficult position. There aren’t many people with the experience to take on the job.” He watched Ryan intently. “Present company excepted, of course.”
Head of Foreign News. A job tailor-made for a war correspondent. The perfect solution for a man who’d become tired and jaded after long years in the field. Not for him.
Ryan met Ben’s gaze evenly. “I still have work to do in Bekostan. I want to interview Arnat.”
Ben nodded. “I know. It’s right that you should, it would be the perfect final interview before leaving Bekostan. I want you to do it, but I also want you to take on the new job. I can give you a couple of weeks to think about it, then I’ll need your answer.”
Being in one place had always seemed like a death sentence, but the thought of running the news team, deciding what elements should be investigated further, and masterminding the foreign news approach was one that was too attractive to dismiss without giving it long and hard consideration. In the beginning, the job had been all about the buzz being ‘on the ground’ provided, but lately… “I’ll let you know the moment I’ve done the interview.”
Ben smiled. “In that case, we’ll make contact with Arnat, and try to set up the interview as soon as possible.”
They stood.
“Keep your phone on.”
Back in the hallway, Andie was shrugging into Bri’s lacy sweater. She pulled her hair out of the neckline, flicking it with one hand so that it swept in a blonde ribbon down her back. She clutched a collection of DVDs in her other hand. A dazzling smile shone out as she saw Ryan, and his heart did a funny little flip.
“Ready to go?”
“Yes.” She clutched the DVDs to her chest. “I think that went well.”
“You were great.” Ryan kissed her cheek, breathing in the scent of lemony shampoo. “How about we get an early dinner before we head back?”
They walked to a nearby restaurant. He’d only been back in England for a couple of days—it felt so much longer.
Ben would organize the interview with Arnat. A plane ride to Bekostan was only days away. For the first time in years regret curled around Ryan’s insides at the thought. There was so much left unexplored. The relationship blooming to life between them for one. Brianne knew he was in the country, contact would have to be made there too, before he left.
“You’re very quiet.”
She was so open. So caring. Conflicted emotions raced through Ryan. The first time they’d met he knew he didn’t have what she needed. He should do the decent thing, and walk away.
The black circle of Andie’s pupil expanded to swallow the brilliant blue. The soft bow of her upper lip tempted, and his whole body rioted with the urge to taste it again.
A waitress arrived with menus, then left them alone.
“It will be safe for you to go back home tonight.” He didn’t want her to go. He wanted to spend every moment before he returned to Bekostan with her. In bed and out of it. The urge to tell her was strong, but he held back. The decision to stay had to be hers. He squared his shoulders. “The press will leave you alone, once the segment airs.”
Andie steepled her fingers. “Do you want me to go back home?”
He leaned close, stroked a finger down her cheek. “No. I want you to stay with me.”
The corners of her mouth lifted in a smile. “I want that too,” she whispered, the blue of her eyes darkening to navy. “I’ll have to pick up some stuff from home,” she waved a hand over her clothes, “then I’d like to stay with you in the cottage for a few days.”
“That’s all it can be,” Ryan said. “I’m not the settling down kind. I don’t want to hurt y
ou…” He couldn’t lead her on, couldn’t let her think there would be more.
“I understand.” The truth shone from her eyes. “You have your life, and I have mine. There’s no reason we can’t…” a blush swept her features, “spend time together while you’re here. We’ve only known each other a couple of days and I’m not going to fall in love with you, Ryan. I don’t need forever. Right now, I’d like to stay.”
Warmth spread like heated honey. “I’d like that a lot.”
“Well, it’s sorted then. Can we swing past my place…”
“On the way back to the cottage? Yes.”
Satisfaction settled in Ryan’s chest. They were on the same page. Her desire matched his, and the last barrier to being together had been sailed over, without injury.
“What’s on the DVDs?” He eyed the little pile on the red and white checked tablecloth.
“I asked Joe to copy some of Emily’s broadcasts. I think he threw in a couple of yours for good measure.” Her mouth curved in another one of those smiles that turned him inside out. “I thought maybe I could watch them when we get back. You could give me the background.”
She always called her mother Emily. Never mum, or mother. The first few times she had it had barely registered.
She pushed her swathe of blonde hair back, tucked it behind her ear in what was becoming a familiar gesture.
“I thought you didn’t want to watch your mother on TV?”
She hesitated for a moment; curled a lock of hair around her fingers. “I said I never had, not that I didn’t want to.” The waitress returned to take their order. When she’d gone, Andie continued, “My grandmother never wanted to watch Emily on television, I think she would have worried more with the sights and sounds of Bekostan made real. She didn’t want me upset.”
It made sense. Often when reporting during a conflict he’d hoped Bri wouldn’t see the report and worry.
“Did you always live with your grandmother?”
Andie nodded. “Emily stayed at home for the first three or four years, but then returned to her job. She was a workaholic. I think being at home would have been torture. She needed the stimulation.”
Challenging Andie Page 5