Challenging Andie Page 8

  *****

  It was impossible to recapture the complicated feeling of freedom mixed with closeness. Andie tried, but in the close confines of the basket, there was no way to escape Ryan’s pity. She hadn’t got the strength to try and put a positive spin on the facts unwittingly revealed about the state of her relationship with Emily. Or lack of one.

  The bright bubble of joy had burst like a balloon at a children’s party, and even floating above the silent world, her mind wouldn’t shake off the memories

  Every time Emily’d climbed into the taxi for the airport, it was as if she was returning to her own private world. A world where the child Andie was powerless to follow. The fact that Ryan found this as incomprehensible as she had, made everything worse. She didn’t want to be an object of pity. Didn’t want to acknowledge the look of concern in his eyes. Deep inside, an ugly desire bloomed to punish him for knowing her secrets.

  The Captain pointed out the coast, so far below, and tiny villages, like toy houses from the air. Couldn’t she just live in the moment? She longed to spit out the bitter taste of anger and disappointment that seemed to poison everything. One of the things she’d loved about Ryan when they first met was the fact that she’d thought him a stranger. Someone who didn’t know her troubles, her losses. One night would never change things between them. A complete break was needed. A real chance at a new beginning without anyone holding the past up as a mirror to her own shortcomings.

  Her fingers tightened around the basket’s edge.

  She didn’t need pity. Didn’t need him. The Captain pointed as the familiar land came into view, the airstrip. They were nearly back. It was time to make a decision. She should leave him, before he left her.

  Free from the balloon, Andie and Ryan walked across the pitted field to the spot where the car was parked.

  Andie’s foot turned on the uneven ground. “Ouch.” She stopped dead, and bent to rub at her ankle.

  Ryan’s hand immediately gripped her elbow, sending a flash of electricity up her arm.

  Dammit! Why can’t my traitorous body get the message this man is off limits?

  “Are you okay?”

  She wasn’t okay, not by a long shot. She wanted to pound her fists against his broad chest, shout at him for being such a…

  “Andie?”

  Tears pricked, and she stared at the ground. “I’m fine. I just twisted my ankle, that’s all.”

  Firm fingers tilted her face up, and emerald eyes, filled with concern, gazed into hers. “That’s not all. You’re upset.”

  Anger flared, mixed with despair. “Yes, of course I’m upset,” she snapped. “I’m having a bad day.”

  She jerked her arm from his hold, and limped across the field. The sooner she got away from bloody Ryan Armstrong the better. She didn’t want to see his I-wish-we-hadn’t-done-that face in the morning ever again. Didn’t want to see his oh-poor-you expression when she revealed just how little she’d been loved, either. She didn’t want it, and she sure didn’t need it.

  “Wait up.” With long, loping strides he caught up. “Don’t walk away from me.”

  “I’m not the one walking away.” She tilted her chin up, defiantly. Daring him to deny it.

  “This is about this morning, isn’t it?” he muttered, looking like a man pinned down, and hating it.

  She could brush it off, but anger wouldn’t let her. “Yes, that’s part of it. That, and the pitying look when I told you I’d never visited my mother. I don’t need your pity, Ryan. If you’re stupid enough to think…”

  His mouth silenced the words on her lips in a punishing kiss. Hands speared through her hair, holding her in place.

  When he finally pulled away, they were both breathing heavily.

  “You don’t have my pity, you idiot.” His eyes flashed. “What I feel for you is a hell of a lot more complicated than that.”

  It wasn’t enough. She wanted more. Demanded more. “Find the words, Ryan. Find the words to explain what you want of me, or I’m walking away.”

  *****

  Walking away?

  Did she really think she had the strength to walk away and not look back? Ryan gazed into the azure eyes that matched the cloudless sky above. Her lips were reddened from his angry kiss, and her eyelashes were damp. Silence stretched as he struggled to put his feelings into words.

  She glanced away. “Okay.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. She took one step away.

  His words stopped her mid-step. “I know what it’s like to have a parent who walks away,” he managed through a throat that felt gravel-rough. “Your mother left because she cared about people who needed her unique skills to tell their story.”

  “I needed her too.”

  Ryan nodded. “I get that, and maybe she was wrong to choose them over her daughter.” He shoved his hands deep into his jeans’ pockets. “My father walked out into the arms of another woman. Made a new family, and never looked back. My mother loved him blindly—never saw it coming. It almost destroyed her.”

  Andie bit her lip.

  “I can’t tell you I’m in love with you,” he continued. “I can’t tell you I’m going to stay around—I have a job to do on the other side of the world.”

  He clasped her hand. “But I can tell you I feel more for you than I’ve ever felt for a woman before. I don’t know where this thing is going, but I know I won’t let you walk away.” He forced his voice to soften. “It will take a couple of weeks for the interview with Arnat to be arranged. Why don’t we spend those two weeks together, and see how things pan out?”

  “You were so cold this morning. You regretted our night together.” Her gaze was accusing.

  “You threw me for a loop.”

  The fact that he’d been thrust back into the nightmare, this time while wide awake, wasn’t something to share.

  He brushed his thumb across her bottom lip. “Let’s try again.” Lungs burned with his held breath.

  A myriad of emotions flickered across her expressive face.

  “You feel it too. I know you do.”

  Andie’s head jerked in a brief nod. “I don’t want to be hurt.” Her hushed words were barely audible. She was grieving and shocked by her mother’s death. Battling a barrage of churned up feelings as she read through her mother’s letters and struggled to come to terms with a new reality that left her alone. A decent man would see her vulnerability and leave her alone to sort things out. Being that decent man wasn’t an option. He couldn’t let her go—because if he did, she might recognize what a screwed up disaster of a man he was. When she did, she’d walk.

  Their gazes locked. “Two weeks, but don’t regret any of our time together ever again. Because…”

  She didn’t need to finish the sentence. He made sure she didn’t get the opportunity, wrapping arms around her and stealing the words from her lips.

  Chapter Eight

  Andie’s emotions careened like a weathervane caught in a tornado. First, she’d been caught up in the joy that had soared with the balloon’s flight. Next her ebullient mood had crashed to earth with the reminder of how insignificant she had been in Emily’s life. Finally, the confrontation with Ryan, ending with his declaration he felt more for her than he ever had for a woman, had left her washed out and exhausted.

  The thought of walking away vanished the moment the words left his mouth. He’d looked so serious, so torn. Now the decision to give their relationship a chance had been made, the possibilities lit a spark of hope within.

  She wasn’t in love with him. There was no way this feeling could be love, not when tempered with all she knew of war correspondents. He’d leave. His father’s abandonment had closed him off from the possibility of love, making him the worst person in the world with whom to fall in love. The only way to guard her heart from heartbreak, was to understood that. However there was no reason why she shouldn’t enjoy a brief romance was there?

  With a sigh, Andie rolled the window down as the car sped through the le
afy lanes towards the cottage that would be home—for the next couple of weeks anyway. She breathed in the warm breeze, redolent with the smell of grass and the cow parsley that billowed in abundance at the verges. The sunshine slanted across the windshield, bathing her knees and thighs with its warmth.

  Keep it light. “I don’t suppose there’s a hidden swimming pool somewhere in the garden?” Luxuriating in cool water would be a delicious way to spend the afternoon. Especially if Ryan stripped out of his clothes and spent the day dressed only in swimming trunks.

  An X-rated rerun of the night before fizzed in her mind. Or dressed in nothing at all. Her skin heated with a flush, and she pressed her hand against her cheek, and squeezed her thighs together. Somehow, light had just shifted to steamy.

  “Unfortunately, no.” His deep rumble was laced with laughter. “I could spray you with the hose, if that helps.”

  It just might. She sure could do with something to cool her down.

  She shot him a glance from underneath her lashes.

  He raised a dark brow, mouth curving into the sexy smile that had stopped her heart when he’d turned it her direction on the rollercoaster ride.

  Heat flashed, deep and primal. She undid the top button of her shirt and watched his eyes widen.

  “Stop distracting the driver.” He returned his attention to the road.

  “I’m hot!”

  “I know you’re hot. You’re very, very hot.” His hands gripped the steering wheel. “But if you start taking your clothes off in the car, I won’t be to blame if we crash.” He slanted her a look. “I’d much rather watch you than the road.”

  Andie smiled, happiness filling her chest with the knowledge she had the power to affect this powerful man so. “Okay, I won’t strip in the car, but when we get back to the house I’m changing into something cooler.” She fanned her face with her hand. “I’m melting.”

  “So am I,” Ryan growled. “When we get home, I’ll help you.”

  The temperature in the car rose, despite the air-conditioner’s valiant attempt to blast frigid air. It was a heat borne of desire, and by the time they pulled up outside the secluded cottage, the air was so charged that flashback was a distinct possibility.

  The sun blazed down. Andie’s throat was scratchy-dry. “I could do with a drink.”

  Ryan stroked a hand across her cheek. “Why don’t you go and change. Brianne has sun-loungers set up in the back garden. We could soak up some rays.”

  Her skin tingled with one touch—she really had it bad.

  “I’ll make us something cool and bring it out.”

  As Ryan climbed out of the car, his cell phone rang. He tugged it from his pocket, and glanced at the display. “It’s the station.”

  Andie’s heart lurched. He’d leave. She must remember this was just a snatched moment in time. A casual fling without a future. She noted the tight line of his mouth as he spoke rapidly into the phone.

  His deep voice faded as Andie hurried into the cottage. A couple of years ago, she’d bought a bikini when she and Suz had decided to go on a girls-only holiday to the South of France. She’d been forced to cancel when Gran got sick, and the white bikini and matching wrap had been stuffed into the back of her knicker drawer ever since. They’d been dragged out and tossed into the bag at the last minute, and the heat pounding off the cottage’s whitewashed walls proved her the decision had been an inspired one.

  In the bedroom, she stripped off her jeans and changed into the scraps of white, coiled her hair up into a twist secured with a couple of hair chopsticks.

  She remembered how Suz had teased in the department store. “Come on, Andie. It’s the Dr. No bikini—imagine how hot you’ll look striding out of the ocean in it!”

  Hardly Ursula Andress hot, Andie thought as she gazed at her reflection in the full-length oak cheval mirror that graced the corner of the bedroom. Her hips were too curvy, and her smaller chest lacked Ursula’s va-va-voom factor, but the clever cut emphasized the length of her legs. She put on oversized shades, and added a quick slick of lip-gloss.

  She’d do.

  Andie laced up white espadrilles, and went downstairs.

  In the sitting room she opened the full-length red and gold brocade curtains that covered the far wall, to reveal French doors that led out into a glorious back garden. She gasped a delighted breath at the view beyond the glass, threw the doors open wide, and stepped into the warm sunshine.

  A colorful mosaic table with matching café chairs graced one side of the patio, with a large weatherproof box behind it, against the cottage wall. Striding over, she lifted the lid to peer inside.

  Lanterns to light the mosaic table. Two long cushions, printed with muted smudges of color, like impressionist paintings, and long, tapering yellow candles. She leaned in and sniffed. Citronella. Brianne obviously spent a lot of quality time out here.

  Two long, teak loungers sat in the shade of a large oak. On breathing in the scented air, Andie felt her spirits rise with every inhale.

  Brianne was obviously a keen gardener. Long borders were planted with herbaceous perennials, lending a Monet-burst of color to the acres of close-cropped green lawn. She must have a gardener who kept it well tended in her absence. A brick barbeque in the corner was surrounded by plantings of fragrant herbs.

  Andie pulled a cushion from the box and stepped over warm sunken flags interplanted with lemon thyme. Bees buzzed lazily from flower to flower. Reaching a sun-lounger she dropped the cushion, then sat to unlace her espadrilles.

  She hummed out a breath as her bare feet flexed in the cool grass. Paradise on earth. Sinking on the cushion, she lay back to gaze into the leafy green canopy above. This was so much better than hiding inside her house. A thousand times better. One hand rested on her stomach, and the other cupped her head. A small, blue butterfly flittered from flower to flower, adding another vibrant touch to the masterpiece.

  Her eyes drifted shut.

  *****

  “So, what’s the deal?” Ryan took a carton of orange juice from the fridge, swung the door closed, and propped his butt against the counter.

  Ben Fitzgerald had sounded hassled beyond belief when he started this conversation, and Ryan felt tension grip, waiting for Ben’s answer.

  “Arnat is flying into London this weekend for a fundraiser that ‘Friends of Bekostan’ are holding on Monday. I’ve tried to get you an interview, but he’s adamant there isn’t time. He’s flying out straight after.”

  “He needs the publicity.” Ryan picked two long glasses from the cupboard above the counter. “If he wants to push for support, he’ll need—”

  “There’s talk of a coup. He can’t leave the country for long.”

  The hairs on Ryan’s arms stood up. “How soon?”

  “Days.”

  “I need that interview.” Every correspondent worth his salt would be heading to Bekostan to document the handover of power. Once the stricken country got around to granting its citizens the right to vote, Arnat would be the logical choice for leader—if he lived that long.

  “You’re the only man to get it. You’ll have to go to the fundraiser, meet him, and persuade him to talk.”

  “Hold up.” Ryan strode to the dresser, pulled open the drawers and found paper and pen. “Give me the details. You better send two tickets.”

  He could go alone, but the thought of leaving Andie alone in the cottage while he travelled to London for the party tightened his gut into a knot. He spooned the glasses half-full with crushed ice from Bri’s huge American fridge, and filled them with orange juice. Ben had revealed that a contingent, including some of the leaders of the camp that Emily had supported, would be making the journey too. Maybe meeting the people behind the story would have the same impact on her as it had on him.

  Bekostan and its struggle had been part of his everyday reality for such a long time. The things he’d seen, the brave fortitude of the people had affected him profoundly. He hadn’t shared his experiences with an
yone he cared for. Had always been able to keep the two sides of his life separate. Up until today…

  A remembered vision of Andie in the field earlier flickered through his memory. When she’d challenged him to declare his feelings, his first instinct was to change the subject. He hadn’t been able to. She deserved to know, so despite his forebodings, he’d spoken the truth. Ryan cared, and wasn’t ready to let her go. Where they would go from here was anyone’s guess. The thought of trusting her, being the man that a woman like Andie needed was a challenge. His job was in Bekostan. He couldn’t give it up, couldn’t settle for life in a quiet village in the back of beyond. That just wasn’t how he was made. Ryan groaned, and picked up the glasses.

  Sunlight dazzled as he stepped out onto the patio. He glanced around, feeling the adrenalin still flowing strongly in his veins in the aftermath of Ben’s call. He itched to retreat to his computer. To scan the chat-rooms, and see what his contacts on the ground could reveal of the upcoming struggle. Then there’d be preparation—the list of interview questions would need to be updated in light of recent developments.

  He clenched the frigid glasses, and blinked. Across the belt of green, under a spreading oak, a barely dressed vision lay on a sun-lounger in dappled sunlight.

  Snow-white fabric covered her breasts, and her hand rested on her stomach, over white bikini bottoms accentuated by a belt with a large silver buckle. She looked so damn delicious that all thoughts of conflict in a country on the other side of the world were knocked straight out of his head.

  In quick strides, he was at her side.

  Large sunglasses shaded her eyes from view, but she was breathing deeply. Asleep, or close to it.

  Ryan sank onto the grass, placing the drinks next to him.

  She was too pale to be lying under the sun’s rays without protection. He leaned close, and brushed his lips to her shoulder.

  A lazy hand rose, flicking at him.