An Unsuspecting Heart

by Linda Turner

  She was weaving her way through the crowd, looking for witnesses to question, when she stopped short, her heart suddenly pounding. Across the lobby, Sam was engrossed in a conversation with a security guard, the intensity in his blue eyes achingly familiar. Before she could even begin to control the emotions rolling in her like a churning sea, he looked up and found her.

  Time, for the span of three heartbeats, stood suspended. Trapped in his gaze, Katie felt the world slipping away but couldn't spare it a glance. He was here. Somehow she had known he would be. It had been only days since she had last seen him walking out of her hospital room, but it seemed like a lifetime. Despite his promise to continue their conversation, he hadn't called, hadn't made any further attempt to see her or talk to her. If he'd hoped to unsettle her with such tactics, he'd succeeded. She hadn't been able to get him out of her mind—or her heart. Hungrily, she let her eyes sweep over him.

  He had changed. Again. The beard he had worn as Grant Elliot was gone, revealing tantalizing traces of the Sam Bradford she had known in the past: a hard, unyielding jaw, a beautifully shaped mouth, blue eyes that saw everything. Superimposed over that were the rugged cheekbones and slightly crooked nose of Grant Elliot. It was a hauntingly familiar, yet different face. It wasn't until he turned his attention back to the security guard that she realized what was missing—the challenging smile he always shot her whenever they ran into each other on the job.

  She paled. Over the last few days, she'd had a lot of time to think, to imagine what their next meeting would be like. She hadn't expected indifference, but she knew it was no more than she'd deserved. She'd been so sure she was the injured party, she'd tossed his love back in his face without ever stopping to think that there were two sides to every story.

  Then she'd read the papers.

  What a fool she had been! Blinking back tears, she turned hastily away, struggling for control. For the last four days, the Tribune had published a running account of his ordeal, and she'd only had to read the first installment to know that the accusations she'd thrown at him had been horribly unfair. Yes, he wanted a Pulitzer, and he deserved one. He'd gone through hell! But the story had ceased to be his main objective from the moment he'd awakened to realize the world considered him dead. Then, he'd only been fighting for what Gallegos had stolen from him—his identity, his career, his life. And he'd have done anything to get them back. How could she fault him for that? She would have done the same thing.

  Every day she'd been in the hospital, she'd waited for him to visit so she could apologize. But he hadn't come near her. How many times had she picked up the phone to call him, aching for the sound of his voice, needing his forgiveness? But every time she'd dialed his number, she'd slammed the receiver back down before the call could go through, knowing what she had to say couldn't be said over the phone.

  So she'd bided her time impatiently, knowing that their paths would inevitably cross again once she returned to work. This time she wasn't going to blow it, she promised herself, determination glinting in her eyes. She'd come too close to losing Sam Bradford once before; she wouldn't do it again without putting up a hell of a fight.

  Sam tried to focus all his attention on the security guard and swore under his breath at the effort it took to keep his eyes from straying to Katie. What the devil was she doing here? he fumed. He'd kept in touch with Ryan and the hospital, and he knew she had no business being back at work so soon. What was the matter with that boss of hers? He'd only had to look at her to see that she belonged at home in bed. Dressed in a flowered skirt and a blouse that was as white as her face, she looked like a wilted rose.

  Resisting the urge to cross the lobby and hustle her home to bed, he finished the interview with the guard and moved to question one of the tellers. He didn't have to look at Katie to know that she did the same thing. He had an internal radar where she was concerned that sprang on whenever he was within a mile of her. She couldn't move without his being aware of her. Out of a crowd of people, he heard the soft cadence of her voice, the husky sensuousness of her laughter as she responded to a joking comment from a customer. If he closed his eyes, he'd swear he could smell the alluring sweetness of her honeysuckle scent.

  And she doesn't want a thing to do with you, Bradford, a voice in his head taunted. She's the only woman you ever said I love you to, and what does she do? She asks you to leave.

  Scowling, he forced his concentration back to the robbery. He'd had his say, even if she hadn't believed him. The ball was in her court. If any talking was to be done, it would have to come from her.

  Thirty minutes later all the facts had been gathered. Gentleman Jim had entered the savings and loan at midmorning dressed in jeans and a white windbreaker. Clean-cut, with average looks, he'd had nothing unusual about him except for the withdrawal slip he'd handed the teller. It had requested all her money and had been accompanied by a rose. A little over a minute later, he'd exited the building with ten thousand dollars. The only mistake he'd made was choosing a financial institution where one of his neighbors worked as a loan officer. She'd recognized him immediately.

  Fate, Sam decided, had a nasty way of sneaking up on a man. Without a glance at Katie, he headed for the exit.

  Katie, in the act of wrapping up the last of her questions, looked up in time to see him disappearing through the front door. Her heart fell to her knees.

  "Excuse me," she said abruptly to the teller she was talking to, and hurried after Sam.

  She caught up with him two steps from his car. "Sam! Wait, please!"

  She thought she saw his shoulders stiffen, but then he was turning to face her, his blue eyes shuttered, and she couldn't be sure. "Yes?"

  His tone would have chilled an Eskimo. Stifling the urge to wrap her arms around herself, she asked quietly, "Do you have time to talk?"

  He could have retorted that the last time he'd tried, she hadn't been willing to listen. Instead, he only countered, "What about?"

  Her hands twisted together before she could stop them. "The other morning, in the hospital, I was upset. I couldn't believe you were alive…" She dragged a hand through her hair. She'd had days to practice what she was going to say, but every thought had flown from her head when his eyes had met hers. She couldn't think! Taking a calming breath, she tried again. "I've been reading the Tribune."

  He only lifted a brow.

  So he wasn't going to make this easy for her. She swallowed. Somehow, she'd known he wouldn't. "I can see now you must have gone through hell. I didn't realize… All I could think of was that you'd lied…" Helplessly, she spread her hands, wondering how a woman who made her living as a writer could be so inept at the English language. "I don't know what to say…"

  He studied her for a long moment, his hard face enigmatic, his thoughts carefully concealed. Just when she thought he was going to turn and walk away, he said, "If you're trying to say you may have made a mistake, why not just try I'm sorry? It's very easy."

  There was no smile to encourage her, only the steady intensity of his eyes. Hope flared, but she couldn't let herself give in to it. Not yet. "I'm sorry," she repeated huskily. "I should have realized you have too much integrity to do what you did unless you were forced to."

  His eyes darkened, but he only said, "Apology accepted."

  Silence dropped between them like a stone, and Katie knew if she didn't break it, he would turn and get in his car and leave without another word. Taking her courage in her hands, she asked, "Did you mean it?"

  He didn't have to ask what she was talking about. "Yes."

  He loved her. The thought went through her like a caress, slowly releasing the tension that had been with her for days. Tears gathered in her throat. "Sam—"

  "When a man tells a woman he loves her, he expects to hear she feels the same way," he said quietly. "Don't lose your courage now, sweetheart. You've got more guts than any woman I've ever known."

  "Oh, Sam!" The tears came then, spilling down her cheeks. "I've loved you fo
rever. You must know that."

  His eyes glowed, but still he didn't touch her. "I couldn't be sure that you wouldn't end up hating me after all this hit the fan." He glanced down at their feet, at the distance that separated them. "Shall you take the first step or shall I?"

  She never knew who moved first, but suddenly she was in his arms, the words that wouldn't come seconds ago tumbling from her lips. "I'm so sorry! I was hurt and upset and so afraid that you were only using me to get the damn story," she choked against his neck. "I couldn't bear the thought of losing you again."

  "There was never any chance of that," he growled, and crushed her to him as if he would never let her go. "I was trying to give you time," he murmured against her cheek as his lips rushed over her face, "but I was running out of hope. If you hadn't come to me soon, sweetheart, I would have done something drastic."

  "Show me," she urged softly, and turned her head to find his lips with hers.

  His mouth fastened on hers, the need to take the kiss slowly, to show her all the love building inside him swept aside by a hunger and desperation that would not be denied. So close, he thought, his hands trembling as they dragged her tight against him. He'd come so close to missing her in this lifetime. Wrenching his mouth from hers, his fingers dived into her hair to capture her head in his hands, his eyes burning down into her. "We're getting married."

  He said it as if he expected an argument from her. She grinned, her face shining with love. "Yes."

  His fingers tightened ever so slightly. "If you want a big wedding, I'll force myself into a monkey suit and do the whole nine yards for you, but don't expect me to live without you until then," he warned.

  The long days in the hospital without him, the days the lie of Grant Elliot had been between them, the years they'd slowly been working their way toward each other, flashed before Katie's eyes as she reached up to caress his cheek. "Is that a threat or a promise?"

  He brought her up on her toes for a long, lingering kiss that had her clinging to him by the time he lifted his head. "You tell me," he whispered huskily.

  "Both," she murmured and gave in to the temptation to kiss him again. They'd wasted so many days, so many nights, so many years. Sliding her arms around him to hold him fiercely to her, she knew she couldn't go another day, another hour, without him. "No big wedding," she decided. "All I want is you."

  He pressed a kiss to the pulse racing at the base of her throat, his hands tender as they moved over her. "You have me, sweetheart. Forever."

  "I don't think that's going to be long enough."

  He grinned, knowing that if he kissed her again, he'd be lost. "You may be right, but it's a start. C'mon, let's go home," he said, turning her toward the car. "We've got a lot of lost time to make up for."

  * * * * *