Challenging Andie Page 9

  He felt the smile on his lips as he sat back and trailed a finger across her stomach in a feather-light caress, removing it quickly before she swatted it again.

  In her stupor, she was unaware of him. A situation that couldn’t be allowed to continue.

  Ryan brushed his lips against hers.

  Her breath quickened, and she sighed softly. One hand snaked across his chest, reaching up to stroke the hair at his nape.

  “Mmm.”

  Her dreamy murmur sent blood rushing south.

  He took off her sunglasses, folding them carefully and placing them on the ground next to their drinks.

  “I wondered where you’d got to.” Her voice was rusty with sleep.

  He handed her the drink, and watched her throat ripple as she drank deeply.

  Ryan’s heated gaze burned every inch it touched.

  Andie’s nipples firmed into peaks under the shielding fabric. To cool her flushing face, she trailed the icy glass over her forehead. His gaze swept lower.

  The intense sensual focus sent tingles to her core.

  “All you need is a knife strapped to your thigh and you’re every man’s fantasy,” he murmured in a voice so low she barely heard him. “You’re my fantasy, whatever you’re wearing.”

  Andie’s heart picked up pace.

  His gaze met hers, the dark emerald almost swallowed by his pupils. Slowly, deliberately, he eased off his loafers with his long, tanned fingers.

  Andie swallowed.

  Not breaking eye contact, Ryan stood and pulled his T-shirt off, tossing it onto the grass.

  Andie’s hand covered her midriff, pressing down to still the butterflies fluttering inside. Would she ever tire of looking at him? Shadowed against the sky, he looked like an ad for something, with strong, wide shoulders and a bare expanse of tanned chest. Andie swallowed as her gaze drifted lower.

  Ryan’s hand undid one button, then the rest. Andie sucked her bottom lip in. Surely he wasn’t going to…

  Ryan shoved his jeans and boxers down, and stepped out of them.

  Panic flared. Andie glanced around.

  “We’re alone. There isn’t another person for miles.” Ryan’s voice pulled her attention back. Her mouth dried as she stared helplessly at every impressive, aroused, inch of him. Her body flooded with heat.

  “I don’t think the lounger will hold our…”

  “Honey, I think you should stop thinking.” Ryan leaned down and slanted his mouth over hers. Whatever thoughts she had took flight at his familiar taste. The sun-lounger creaked as his body settled over hers.

  A warm breeze teased Ryan’s dark hair against her cheekbone as their mouths melded. The sound of birdsong and white clouds scuttling across the blue sky high above caught Andie’s eye, and joy bubbled from her like water bubbling from a spring.

  “What’s so funny?” Ryan pulled back, a mock frown on his face. “Aren’t I doing it right?”

  Her stomach dipped in and out as she laughed. “I’m just happy.” She felt the sappiest of smiles stretch her face, and didn’t care how stupid she must look.

  “Happy, huh?”

  Andie waved a hand in the air. “The sun, the garden,” her voice lowered as she tilted her face to his. “You.”

  “I’ve never had a woman laugh when I was making love to her before.” Ryan touched the dimple in her cheek with his index finger, trailed his lips in its wake.

  “It’s new for me too.” The knot of attraction tightened.

  His hips moved in a sinuous flex that stole her breath. “Kiss me.”

  As his mouth joined hers, all thoughts of where they were faded away into nothingness, leaving only one thing—Ryan, and the way he was loving her.

  Chapter Nine

  Ryan sliced red peppers and added them to the pile of mushrooms he’d chopped into thin slivers, grateful for the distraction of preparing dinner. He’d slipped out of bed, leaving Andie sleeping after a long, lazy afternoon discovering everything about each other’s bodies. By the time they’d climbed in to the shower, he was sure the driving need for her must have abated—until he’d picked up the soap and lathered his hands…

  The oil in the frying pan started to spit, and Ryan turned the heat down. If only it was so easy to turn his heat down. What gave Andie such power over him? His previous sexual partners had been arousing, sure, but Andie…his mind tangled around scattered images of her hair, her face, her curvy body. Her laughter while she stared up at the sky had shot a bolt of surprise through him. When she’d said, so simply, that she was happy, and cited him as the reason, warmth mixed with tenderness had swelled within, killing stone-dead the words on his tongue.

  The words that would tell her of Ben’s telephone call.

  With savage intensity, he fired the contents of the chopping board into the sizzling oil.

  “What are you making?”

  Ryan started at Andie’s soft voice from the doorway. Dressed in his shirt, all long legs and tousled hair, she made an enchanting picture.

  “Dinner.” He strode to the fridge to extract the carton of eggs. “I hope you like omelets.”

  “Oh, yummy.” She yawned widely, and pushed her hair from her face, then perched on a chair. “I’m starving.”

  “All that exercise.”

  “Mmm.”

  The open shirt front revealed the soft swell of breasts naked beneath.

  Ryan turned away before his body got any more ideas, and picked up the block of cheese, grating it furiously into a bowl.

  “Can I do anything?”

  Ryan glanced up. “You could crack the eggs.”

  “Right, and maybe pour some wine?”

  In Bekostan, Ryan avoided alcohol like the plague, fearful of allowing its numbing effects to become a crutch, but a glass of wine sounded good. “There’s red in the wine rack.”

  She stooped to pull a bottle from the rack under the table, flashing another curve or two.

  Ryan’s jaw clenched tight.

  “You okay?” Andie straightened, looking at him with concern in her bright blue eyes. “You look sort of stressed.”

  “Pass the eggs over.” He accepted the bowl from her outstretched hand, and stirred them into the vegetables. “I need to talk to you about the phone call I got earlier.”

  Andie put the wine bottle on the table, still holding the neck. “Was it bad news?”

  The eggs were beginning to set, Ryan edged around them with the wooden spoon, to stop them from sticking. “Not exactly.” Silence stretched. Ryan cleared his throat. “Arnat is coming to London for a fundraiser on Monday. I thought we could both go and meet him.”

  “Both go?” Andie’s gaze sharpened. “As in, you and me?”

  “Yup. It’s a formal dinner to raise money for the camp.”

  “The camp Emily was so involved with.” A shadow of pain chased across her face at the thought of Emily.

  Ryan silently cursed. She’d been so happy, and with one careless sentence he’d thrust her back into painful memories.

  “Will people be there who knew her?” she said quietly. “Because I’d like to meet them. They’ve been so brave.”

  “Arnat is travelling with a contingent most of whom knew her well.”

  With a tilt of her chin Andie gifted him a shaky smile. “Well in that case, I’ll go. Be warned though, I’ve nothing to wear, so I see shopping in your future.”

  *****

  When she’d floated up from a deep and dreamless sleep, it had been with a smile inside. Sunlight trickled in through the open window, bringing with it a soft breeze smelling of summer, which billowed the lace curtains. Andie’s hands slipped over her stomach, and she rubbed the back of her head into the pillow’s soft warmth.

  Then the slash of pain lanced through her as memory slammed back.

  Andie’s eyes clenched tight, as the numbing wave of grief swelled, pain tugging her under with its destructive force. With a whimper, she curled onto her side, pulled her knees tight to her stomach and
surrendered to the tears that would not be denied. Tears for a mother—lost.

  When the storm of grief had blown over, offering a respite, she walked to the bathroom. A hollow-eyed ghost stared back from the mirror, pain evident in the dull blue eyes. Andie gazed at her own reflection without emotion, all of it washed away by her tears.

  Guilt stabbed like a knife. What sort of a woman would forget, could forget her mother’s death? Even for a moment? She splashed cold water over her hot face. Ryan had lit a spark of genuine joy within her. Offered a moment’s escape from the numbing, horrible re-run that left her wrung out and exhausted since her mother’s death.

  She dried her face. The fist of pain squeezed her heart.

  Ryan was a distraction. One that let her live not in the pain of the past, or the uncertainty of a future that stretched into forever without the two women who had shaped her. Ryan let her live in the present. In the now. The only place she could bear to live.

  She brushed her hair with long, regular strokes that soothed.

  Then followed the enticing aroma of cooking food to the kitchen.

  With each mouthful of the omelet she felt strength returning.

  In the now, she thought, pushing the past aside. She tried for flirty. “You could get a job cooking, you know. I’d employ you.” She half expected him to growl, yeah? And how would you pay me?

  Instead, he pushed a hand through the dark hair springing at his temple. Eyed her with such care and concern that she placed her fork carefully on the plate.

  She felt her lip wobble.

  With quick strides, he made it around the table. He helped her from the chair, walked her to the large sofa in the sitting room, and pulled her down on his lap.

  Ryan’s arms went around her, surrounding her with his warmth. One hand stroked through her hair as she buried her face against his chest.

  She hadn’t thought she had any tears left, but one trickled down her cheek, soaking into the soft fabric at his neck.

  “I just…my mother…” she whispered.

  His arms tightened. “I know.”

  The simple words, deeply spoken, released Andie from the forced pretense of happiness, allowing her to surrender to the overwhelming wave of grief.

  In grief’s aftermath, she breathed in his familiar scent, and focused on his slow regular heartbeat. She hadn’t meant to reveal so much of herself, hadn’t meant to color their fun with her pain, but somehow the look of care on his face had shattered the wall she’d built around her heart.

  “It hits you at unexpected moments.” His deep voice rumbled through her. “After my mother died, I never knew what would trigger the sadness. Maybe a snatch of music, a familiar smell that reminded me of her.” His hand traced her jawline. “The only thing to do is put your feelings and your pain into a box deep inside, and lock it.”

  “I can’t do that. When Gran died, I had to let grief in, had to feel the pain of loss. I couldn’t deny it, and I can’t hide from the pain of Emily’s death either. I know it’ll take time, but I want it to be over.”

  Ryan’s thumb brushed against her lip. “It’ll never be over, but its sharpness will fade to a dull ache over time.”

  There’d just been him and Brianne left after his mother’s death. They were barely more than children. At least she’d had her mother until she was older. Even if Emily wasn’t physically with Andie, the fact that she was alive somewhere else on the planet, had been a comfort.

  “When your mother died…” Andie hesitated. Swallowed. Could he talk about it? His body was relaxed, perhaps he could. “It must have been so difficult. Brianne was younger, dealing with her grief as well as your own.”

  Ryan leaned back. His fingers tilted her chin up so his gaze met hers. “I let Brianne down.” His mouth tightened. “I did the basics, organized the funeral with the help of a funeral director, and supervised the selling of the house and the packing up of her possessions. Then I bought this place for Bri with the proceeds—and ran.”

  His eyes glittered. “I knew she was hurting, but I was hurting too. Throwing myself into work was about all I could manage.”

  Andie’s fingers gripped his forearm. “How is Brianne doing now?”

  Ryan’s eyes closed. The corners of his mouth turned down. He shook his head. “I don’t know.” Bleakness tinged his tone. “I guess I’m afraid to find out.”

  Andie stroked the soft hairs under her palm. “She’ll understand. If she’s anything like you, she’ll understand. It must have been a horrific time…”

  Ryan’s eyes opened. He gazed down with pain evident in the emerald depths of his eyes. “When she needed me, I wasn’t there. I can’t forgive myself for that. I don’t expect her to forgive me for that.”

  She felt the muscles of his upper arm tense, saw a nerve flex in the corner of his jaw.

  “She’s your sister. She loves you.” She could tell by his stillness he was listening, even if he didn’t agree with her words. “Try to reconnect, Ryan. You need each other.”

  She leaned her head onto his chest again, and after long moments, the tension eased from his body as he held her close.

  *****

  Later that afternoon, Ryan admitted that right now, work wasn’t acting as a distraction. He leaned back on the office chair abutting the antique desk in the corner of the sitting room, then angled his legs to the left, swiveling to glance out of the French doors.

  Sun beat down in the garden, illuminating the flowerbeds in a fierce blaze of color, and at its periphery, the woman he couldn’t force from his mind lazed on the sun-lounger.

  She lay on her stomach, the soft curve of her bottom clad in the white bikini bottoms. One hand rested on the book she was reading—he’d been amused to see she had a thing for vampires.

  “They’re not just vampires, they’re sexy vampires,” she’d teased with an edge of defensiveness in her tone.

  “I don’t see the attraction. Unless you’re into bloodsucking?” His heart jumped in his chest as she smiled. “Because if you’d like me to run my teeth down your neck…”

  She shivered, and her darkening eyes hinted that she might not be too adverse to the idea. Who knew?

  “They’re very complex characters,” she insisted, folding her arms over her chest, and inadvertently pulling the bikini top taut across her gorgeous breasts. She didn’t notice his attention snag. “They’re condemned to eternal life–and if they love a human, they have to watch that human age and die while they remain forever young. They’re doomed to be lonely, to walk through the ages alone.”

  “Couldn’t they just fall in love with other vampires?”

  Andie’s head tilted to the side. Her eyebrows rose. “Are you making fun of me?”

  Ryan felt his mouth twitch. “I’m just looking for an easy out.”

  “That’s not how love works.” Andie reached up on tiptoe to plant a kiss square on his lips. She slipped her sunglasses on. “Love’s tricky.”

  With that pearl of wisdom, she’d turned and walked out through the open glass doors. She’d glanced back over her shoulder. “I’ll see you later. Stop looking at my bottom.” She grinned, then sashayed across the garden, hips swinging in a way that ensured he couldn’t look anywhere but.

  With a swift exhalation of breath, Ryan snapped his attention back to the laptop. When she’d given in to the overwhelming flood of grief earlier, he felt the undertow’s tug too. He was a war correspondent. Surrounded by grief and pain every day on the frontline of human misery. He’d always been able to coat himself with a thick veneer of dispassion. There was no way of doing the job without being detached. Otherwise you’d be a complete basket case.

  Ryan ran a hand over her forehead, rubbing the ache that bloomed at his temples. The turmoil that bled out only in his tortured dreams had managed to seep through into his everyday reality. While they’d been talking, he’d felt the full force of the pain of his mother’s death pound into him, and hadn’t been able to stop it.

  And Briann
e… He clenched his eyes tight shut. His little sister had never asked for help. Had never told him in words that she wanted more than his detached big brother routine. She’d never complained when he jetted in to the country and met her for a brief lunch, before retreating alone to his apartment. Her face always lit with pleasure at seeing him, and the light faded every time that he made his excuses and left.

  She deserved more. It was becoming evident that there was no way he could live his life without opening his heart to his sister, and exorcising at least one of his demons. Maybe Andie was right. Maybe it was time to retreat from the shadows, and step onto the frontline. He fished the cell from his pocket and called Brianne.

  “Ry?” Surprise, mixed with something like delight colored Brianne’s tone. “I was just thinking about you. How are things going?”

  Ryan swiveled 45 degrees to gaze out of the window.

  Andie’d flipped onto her side, the curve of her hip pointing skyward and her hand holding the book as she read.

  “Things are good, Bri.”

  “Is Andie still with you?”

  He swallowed. The hours were ticking down to the moment this snatched oasis of time would be over. For now… “Yes, she’s lying out in the garden, enjoying the sunshine.”

  “Oh.” Interest spiked in her voice. “She looks pretty in the pictures I’ve seen.”

  “She is.”

  “Is something going on between you two?”

  Andie sat up and smoothed sun-cream over her long legs.

  “Yeah, something’s going on.” His voice sounded curt. He pushed his hair back, and tried for more. “I like her a lot, Brianne, she’s a good person. You’d like her too.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “That’s why I’m calling. Can you come down and spend a few days?”

  Ryan held his breath, waiting for his little sister’s answer.

  “We’re really busy—Carl has me working on a big show at the gallery. Hang on.” He heard the sound of the phone being dropped onto the desk, and Brianne’s muted voice in the background. After a couple of minutes, she spoke again, “Ry?”

  “Still here.”

  “I’ve got some time off, how about I come down on Friday and spend the weekend?”