by Rose, Alison
OK, so he’d been lying in wait for her outside, which only went to show how unpredictable he was. Flowers were too predictable. Maybe they were from Johnson, as a thank you for trusting him with her mother’s address. Or even an added enticement to take the assignment.
‘Come on, Kate! Put us out of our misery – read the card!’
With a glare at the small crowd assembled around the desk, she reached out and plucked the florist’s envelope from the centre of the arrangement. ‘Haven’t you lot got work to do? Can’t a girl have any privacy round here?’
‘Not when you’ve been caught on film snogging on our doorstep, you naughty girl,’ came the retort from Sam, the sports editor.
‘Caught on … tell me you’re joking,’ she demanded, realising too late that she might well have been tricked into confirming what could have been no more than a rumour.
‘Nope. A freelancer spotted Brand Junior lurking on Friday night and hung around. The boss is waiting to hear your side of the story before we go to print.’
‘The hell he is!’
The card was stuffed into her pocket as she headed towards the editor’s office. Her colleagues stepped back, clearing the path ahead of her, one or two of them calling out questions or encouragement as she passed. The door opened before she reached it and Ned White motioned her inside.
‘It’s about time you arrived, Armstrong.’ He looked at her eager entourage. ‘Back to work, you lot. The show’s over.’
Kate slumped into the visitor’s chair. ‘What’s going on, Boss?’
‘That’s what I was going to ask you.’ He responded, searching through the debris of papers on his desk before extracting a folder and offering it to her.
Kate regarded the proffered file with suspicion for a moment before sighing and taking it. Without giving herself time to think, she opened it. The image of a couple in a heated embrace in the middle of a busy London street confronted her. She blinked as she registered how she had clung to Paul Brand, and how thoroughly she had been kissed. Her cheeks flamed as she remembered just how thoroughly she had enjoyed it.
‘Oh!’
Ned laughed. ‘Is that all you’ve got to say?’
‘I don’t know what to say. ‘
‘OK, you don’t want to talk about it. So go and write me fifteen hundred words about your affair with Paul Brand to go with the picture.’
‘Not a chance!’ she snapped. ‘I am not having an affair with him!’
‘Oh, so it was a one-night stand? Even better.’
‘I did not sleep with Paul Brand!’
‘Why not? Doesn’t look like either of you is gay.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ Kate jumped out of her seat and slammed the file down on his desk. ‘Just because he kissed me, it doesn’t follow that I jumped into bed with the man! I hardly know him!’
He picked up the picture and studied it with raised eyebrows. ‘Could’ve fooled me.’
Kate wanted to scream. Months of hard work, proving herself as a serious journalist were slipping down the pan because of one lousy photo. ‘Which sleazebag photographer was stalking me?’ she demanded. ‘I’d like to shake him warmly by the throat.’
Again, Ned White laughed. ‘Now, now. That’s no way to talk about a valued colleague.’ He paused as she sank back into her seat. ‘Especially as I’ve promised lover boy’s daddy that you’ll join the family on tour.’
‘What?’ she gasped.
‘Yep. The Johnson people were on the phone first thing. Said the old man was so impressed with your article that he wanted to give you exclusive rights to report on the tour. You may not have slept with the son yet, but you’ve certainly made your mark, girl. Well done.’
Kate buried her head in her hands. She felt as though the world was exploding around her. ‘I don’t want to go. Send someone else.’
‘No choice. They want you, they get you. So if you and Junior had a tiff Friday night you’d better get over it. They’re expecting you in Sheffield this afternoon. If you shift the love token off your desk and open your email you’ll find the details. The tour’s just started and they’ve got another twelve weeks to go. We’ll do a “tour diary”, with a weekly column and some spin-off features. I want stuff on the gigs, the fans, the band, the man himself. By the end of this tour, I want The Globe to be known as Brand’s best friend.’
She looked up, both horrified and excited by the prospect. ‘Who gets the by-line?’
He smiled, sensing victory. ‘Why, our very own Kate Armstrong, the woman with her finger on the … er … pulse of the Brand tour.’
‘And the pictures?’ she asked with narrowed eyes.
‘Keep them as a souvenir, sweetheart. I’ve got copies. Just in case you get too busy to send in a report and we have to find a filler.’
She found the florist’s card in her jacket pocket when she was rummaging for her flat key an hour later. She had a taxi waiting outside to take her to the airport as soon as she’d managed to pack a bag. For a moment she contemplated tearing it up, unread. But she changed her mind just as she was about the rip into it. Instead she slit the envelope and extracted the card, planning to vent her spleen on whichever of the Brand men had sent the bouquet.
Kate read the message twice before it sank in. With a shake of her head she clamped a hand over her mouth, but she couldn’t stop the explosion of laughter which erupted. The sleazy actor she’d interviewed with his super-rich fiancée had an original, but unpalatable line in propositions.
When she’d wiped the tears of mirth from her eyes, Kate took a few minutes to scan the card onto her computer and email it to her colleagues at the paper, suggesting that the socialite might be interested to learn about her man’s unusual predilections. As far as Kate was concerned, he had overstepped the mark and deserved everything that was coming to him. If it also directed the heat away from her and Paul Brand, then she wasn’t about to complain.
Now all she had to do was get through the next three months without overstepping her own boundaries and getting her foolish heart broken.
Chapter Ten
A driver was waiting with her name on his board as she emerged from Sheffield Airport. He introduced himself as Derek and relieved her of her bags before leading her to a luxury people carrier with dark tinted windows. As he slid open the door she hesitated. Paul Brand lounged back against the leather upholstery, reading a paperback. As she stood frozen, he looked up and grinned.
‘Hey.’
For a moment she went hot, then cold. She shouldn’t be so pleased to see him. Kate didn’t like the way his lazy, sexy voice made her feel. She didn’t want to return his smile. She was here on business and could not – would not – allow herself to fall under this man’s sensual spell. ‘Hey yourself,’ she responded coolly. ‘Don’t you ever work?’
He looked pained. ‘Business meetings, rehearsals, and sound checks all morning, show tonight. Music ain’t no nine to five gig. A man’s gotta take time to relax when he can. So, are you gettin’ in, honey, or have you changed your mind?’
She bristled at his casual address and got in beside him. ‘I’ve told you before, I have a name. Please either use it or not, but do not make the mistake of addressing me as “honey”, or “sweetheart”, or “babe”.’
‘Or …?’
‘Or I may have to kill you.’
‘O-K. No cute endearments. I can do that, Armstrong. Anything else?’
She reached for her seatbelt, giving herself a moment to take a deep breath and try to relax. She was stuck in his company for the next three months, so starting out like a fish wife wasn’t a good idea. The belt jammed against her fierce tug, adding to her stress as she pulled at it again.
‘Damn!’ she exclaimed.
‘Here, let me.’ Paul put his book down and leaned across, his warm weight holding her prisoner as he took the belt from her hand. She stopped breathing as he gently pulled it out and fastened it.
Kate sat frozen as he moved back to his sid
e of the car and refastened his own belt. Only when the car engine started did she begin to breathe again. Her heart raced to catch up with her wayward thoughts as she blinked to clear her vision of the image of his strong jaw and sensuous mouth so close that it would have taken no effort at all to taste him.
‘You OK?’
She nodded, unwilling to speak or to look at him, sure that he would laugh if he knew how the simple act of fastening her seatbelt had affected her. Instead she looked down at the book on the seat between them. It was by one of her favourite authors and was obviously well-thumbed.
Paul followed her gaze and reached out and picked up the book. ‘It doesn’t matter how many times I read this sucker, I keep finding more there. It’s a great book. Do you know it?’
‘Yes. It … it’s one my favourites. Have you read any of his others?’
By the time they reached their destination, Kate had relaxed. She loved reading and was pleasantly surprised that she and Paul Brand should have that in common. Their lively debate soon had her laughing.
‘That’s better,’ he commented as the car turned into the underground car park of the hotel where the entourage was staying. ‘I thought we were in trouble back there.’
She frowned. ‘What?’
‘I was sort of hoping you’d be pleased to see me, but I guess I over-estimated my charms.’
She shook her head. ‘Your “charms” are irrelevant. I’m here to work.’
‘And that stops us being friends?’
Kate looked at him, her green gaze challenging. ‘Is that what you want? Friendship?’
He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. ‘If that’s what you want to call it, little lady, that’s OK with me.’
‘Oh for goodness sake!’ she snapped, as the car door slid open. ‘My work is important to me, and all I get from you is innuendo.’ She undid her seatbelt and left the car before he could notice the glitter of frustrated tears in her eyes. Without waiting for him she headed for the lift, blinking away the moisture.
It was anger at his cavalier attitude, she assured herself. She certainly wasn’t crying over some light-weight … entertainer! She was here to do a job which could move her career on in leaps and bounds, and he wanted to distract her with his sexy grin and paperback collection!
She almost made it. The lift door was just closing when he slipped inside. With a sniff she reached for the button for the ground floor, but he stopped her and inserted a key before pressing the one for the top floor instead.
‘I have to check in,’ she said, raising her hand to press the right button.
He took her hand, wrapping his fingers around her own, sending electric sparks shooting up her arm. ‘Already taken care of.’
‘Oh.’ She disentangled her hand from his and stepped away, pressing herself against the back of the car.
‘What’s goin’ on, Kate?’ he asked quietly. ‘One minute we’re having a good time talking about books; the next minute you’re biting my head off.’
She closed her eyes, ashamed. He had a point. It wasn’t his fault she was so mixed up. Or perhaps it was. But he didn’t need to know that. If he knew how vulnerable she was to him it would give him the advantage.
‘I’m sorry. I … It’s been a difficult day. This has all happened so quickly, and I’m a nervous flyer, and …’
‘And I scare the hell out of you.’
She gasped her denial, which he ignored as he drew her towards him. She should have pulled back, told herself she wanted to pull back, but his warm hand stroking her cheek held her captive.
‘But that’s OK,’ he whispered his warm breath caressing her face, ‘because you scare the hell out of me too.’
Her eyes widened in shock and then closed in surrender as his lips claimed hers and his arms enfolded her.
Kate had no idea how long it took for the lift to reach the penthouse suite. When the doors opened silently she was still lost in the magic of Paul’s kiss. A polite cough barely registered on her consciousness. Only the electronic voice declaring ‘Doors closing’ pierced the sensual fog.
Paul moved first, uttering a curse as he raised his head and shot out a hand to stop them from being enclosed again. He wasn’t quick enough, but the owner of the cough was, and a beefy hand prevented the doors from closing.
Kate barely glanced at the grinning face that appeared as they slid fully open. One minute alone with that … that man! How on earth was she going to survive three long months if he was going to keep on kissing her? With burning cheeks, she raised her chin and exited the lift with as much dignity as she could manage. Paul followed behind, muttering that he would see the other man later, before ushering her into the main room of the suite.
With a feeling of déjà vu, Kate looked around at the beautifully appointed room. Somewhere in the suite she could hear voices, but the room in front of her was empty. She jumped slightly as Paul closed the door behind them.
‘You OK?’ he asked quietly.
‘Not really,’ she responded tartly. ‘I’m a serious journalist, and every time I’m near you I’m in danger of being labelled a mindless groupie.’
Paul moved into the room, circling round to face her. ‘I don’t think you need worry about Jake. He’ll rib me for a while, because he’s known me for ever and we’re friends. But he’s discreet and he’ll show you nothing but respect, I promise you.’
‘That makes me feel so much better,’ she purred. ‘But it’s not the first time we’ve been caught like this, and it can’t happen again.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean,’ she advanced on him, poking a finger at his chest, causing him to retreat, ‘that some sleazebag paparazzo spotted you outside my office on Friday and I’m now being blackmailed by my boss. If he doesn’t like what I produce about this tour, he’s going to publish a picture of … us …’
‘Kissing?’
‘Oh, is that all it was? From the look of it, we were about to do the dirty deed right there in the street! I’ve worked so hard to be accepted as a serious journalist, and in a matter of seconds you’ve ruined my reputation.’
‘Kate …’
‘Do you have any idea what you have done? The whole office thinks I’ve come up here to finish what you started!’
‘Shit! Kate, I’m sorry … I …’
‘In that case, do me a favour, Brand. Keep your lips to yourself, OK?’
‘Shall I come back later?’
Paul and Kate swung round. Kate wanted the ground to swallow her up as Johnson walked into the room.
‘Hey, Dad.’
‘Son,’ he nodded, his expression thoughtful. ‘Kate, it’s good to see you again.’ He offered his hand, which she took silently, wondering just how much of their conversation he had heard. ‘Has Paul offered you a coffee? Or would you prefer tea?’
‘Er…no. I’m OK thanks. I … I … Would you mind if I freshen up a bit?’
‘No problem. Your room is just down the hall over there. Third on the right.’
‘I’m staying in your suite?’ she asked, eyes wide. Oh no! No, no, no!
‘Just for tonight. When we move tomorrow you’ll be allocated a room like the rest of the team.’
‘Thank you.’ Still blushing, Kate headed across the room to the corridor he indicated. She didn’t dare look at either man, as they both watched her silently. If the first few minutes were any indication, this assignment was going to be pure hell. Or pure heaven, a tiny voice inside her suggested. She gritted her teeth to stop herself from moaning out loud. How on earth had she ended up in this mess?
‘Kate?’ Johnson’s voice stopped her. She turned slowly to face him, avoiding his son’s gaze. She needn’t have worried. Paul had turned towards the window and was busy looking out at the traffic below. She gave his father what she hoped was a professional smile. ‘Yes?’
‘We’ll have an early dinner, and then leave for the arena at seven. You’ll travel with me. OK?’
‘OK. No problem. I�
�m looking forward to it.’
‘Good. You rest up until dinner, and we’ll see you then.’
With a nod, Kate fled the room, relieved to have some breathing space. She knew she ought to call her mother, but needed to calm down first. The more time she spent in Paul Brand’s company, the more she understood her own mother’s teenage romance with his father. There was something in the Brand genes that was pure dynamite!
Behind her, father and son turned to face each other.
‘Want to tell me what that was all about, son?’
‘To tell the truth, Dad, I’m not sure I can.’
‘Is having Kate with us on the tour going to be a problem? I’d hate to have to explain a difficult situation to her mom.’
Paul blew out a breath and rubbed the back of his neck with a weary hand. ‘Hell, I don’t know. We only just met, but she’s already driving me crazy. I don’t know whether to kiss her or strangle her. I just don’t know what to make of her.’
‘Can I make a suggestion?’
Paul frowned at his father. ‘Why do I get the impression I’m not going to like this?’
‘Because you know I’m going to ask you to back off.’
‘It’s a long time since you tried to give me advice on dating, old man.’
‘And I’m not going to try now. I’m just asking. Give Kate and yourself some space. It’s obvious something’s going on with the two of you. But it’s also obvious neither of you is comfortable with it.’
‘What’s this all about, Dad? You worried I’m going to upset her and she’ll give us a bum rap in the paper?’
‘You know me better than that, son. Quit being a jerk.’
‘Or is it that you’re trying to figure out whether her mom – your Dream Woman – will give you a second chance? You’ve been looking mighty uncomfortable yourself since your visit to Wiltshire.’
Paul hadn’t liked having the spotlight on his own unresolved feelings for the green-eyed temptress now resting a few doors away. But, realising that his father’s concern probably had more to do with his own recent reunion, put the conversation in a different light. The fact that Johnson didn’t respond to his jibe told Paul that he was right. ‘Come on, Dad, what’s going on?’