Challenging Andie (22 page)

“Ah, same old Ry.” Brianne arranged her fork and knife on the plate. “Always reticent to commit himself.”

“Huh,” Ryan muttered. “If you don’t behave yourself, they’ll be no apple pie for you.”

Brianne’s eyes widened. She patted her flat stomach with a ring-bedecked hand. “You mean there’s more?” She reached for the plates, stacked them and stood from the table. “Come on, let’s get it.”

“Glad to see you haven’t lost your appetite.” Ryan stood too, and picked up the empty vegetable bowls. He cast a final aside Andie’s direction as he followed his tiny sister into the kitchen. “She eats like a horse.”

Andie wandered to the fireplace and added a couple of logs, breathing in the smell of wood smoke as a flickering spark leapt when the wood settled. She stretched her arms out and felt the heat seep into her palms. She’d miss this place. She’d miss Ryan. Her home was filled with echoes of another time, and with people who would never return. Even though Emily had been absent, there was always the hope of her, the expectation that one day she’d return for a fleeting visit, and they could be a family again. Now, that prospect was gone, and the future in the house once shared with her grandmother felt empty and lonely.

She wrapped her arms around her torso, as if trying to capture the heat of the fire and force it into the coldness that crept through her body. While she’d been so busy with school, and later, her mother’s funeral arrangements, there hadn’t been time to merely think. Her mind had been focused on the past, and dealing with the present.

Perhaps it was time to re-evaluate the future.

*****

They finished the evening in front of a roaring fire. Ryan snagged the large armchair, while Brianne and Andie sat on the sofa with legs outstretched to its warmth.

“Gosh, it feels good to be doing nothing for a few days,” Bri said, pulling the wrap from the back of the sofa and spreading it across their legs. “I’ve been working every hour, and Carl has even insisted I bring my laptop so he can email me while I’m away.”

“That’s hardly a holiday,” Ryan said, hearing the disapproval in his voice, and unapologetic for it. “It sounds like your boss is taking advantage. He must be a real slave-driver.”

“Not so much a slave-driver, just needy,” Bri said. “And it’s hardly his fault I’m so good at my job I’m irreplaceable.”

He’d thought he was so good at his job and he was irreplaceable too, but the fact of the matter was that any hard-boiled journalist with the burning drive to ignore all other aspects of life would be equally valuable. Somewhere along the line, his hard edge had softened. Normally, he’d be totally focused on the unfolding events in Bekostan, stalking the television and internet for hints of the upcoming coup, and burning up the wires to Ben with every new story strand that broke, evaluating its relevance.

He ran a hand through his hair. He should really tune in to the twenty-four news channels…

Andie got up and walked to the log basket.

Ryan leaned forward to hand her a log, his fingers brushing hers as she took it and put it onto the smoldering flame. He breathed in the smell of her hair, mixed with the lingering scent of wood-smoke that perfumed the air.
God, I’m getting so damn domesticated, I’ll want cocoa next.

“Anyone want some cocoa?” As if reading his mind, Brianne glanced over and delivered the line.

“Ummm. Me!” Andie murmured.

“Ry?”

“Sure.” Events in Bekostan would be front and center early enough. For now, there was good company, the heat of the fire, and living to do. There was no way he could deny himself any of it.

Later, with the embers glowing in the grate, Ryan put the spark-guard up in front of the fireplace, while Brianne carried in her stuff from the car. In consideration of the bigger bed, they were staying where they were in Brianne’s bedroom, while she stayed into the spare room.

Guilt tugged at the fact he hadn’t interrupted while Bri was enthusing about all the time they’d have together, and told her the truth—that he’d be leaving much sooner than expected. She’d been so happy to see him, so glad he wasn’t running for the hills, he hadn’t been able to countenance watching all that bubbling joy evaporate.

With any luck, Andie would stay for the rest of the weekend and the two of them could have fun without him.

Leaving with things in limbo between him and Andie held little appeal too.

The front door slammed. “Right, I’m off to bed,” Bri announced.

“I’ll carry your bag up.” Ryan took the hold-all from her hand.

She slanted him a look, accentuated by a slow smile that started at her lips and made it all the way up to her sparkling eyes. “There’s practically nothing in it,” she teased. “But if you insist…” She gripped his arm as they walked slowly up the stairs. “I’m so glad we’re together, Ry. Especially now.” Her hand squeezed his bicep. “I’ve missed you.”

Before he had a chance to question her about why
now
was so important, she disentangled herself, reached for the bag, and slipped into the spare room with a quiet “Goodnight.”

Puzzling over his sister’s words, Ryan closed the bedroom door. She’d made some mention previously about being glad he’d remembered.
Remembered what?

A voice from the bed said, “You’re frowning.”

Andie lay under the duvet, her long hair golden in the muted light.

“It’s nothing.” He sat on the edge of the bed, and bent to take off his shoes and socks.

Andie scooted up in bed, revealing bare shoulders and a dove grey slip of silk that cupped her breasts in a way that stilled his fingers from their task, and dried his throat.

Her forehead creased. “Are you sure?”

Why did women always want to talk when there were so many other more interesting things to do? He trailed a finger down her upper arm, watching her lips part.

“Yes, I’m sure.” He undressed quickly climbed into bed, banishing the last lingering hint of question from her eyes with a kiss.

The slide from soft skin to slippery silk was unbearably erotic. The spaghetti straps fell easily from her shoulders, allowing him to push the nightgown to her waist. She sighed at his touch. Arched up, and entangled her fingers in his hair.

As their mouths met, and their bodies moved in perfect sync, Ryan breathed in her scent, totally attuned to her every breath, as it came faster and faster. With one tug, she was on top of him, silky strands brushing his chest for a moment before she straightened.

Love
. The word echoed in his heart, demanding release.

He clamped his mouth shut to deny it. He liked her, needed her, but it couldn’t be love. He’d seen the devastation loving and losing delivered again and again. Not only his mother’s pain but the heartbreaking sorrow of Laila Jalludin when her husband was killed.

The bar in Rexa was filled with hardened men who’d lost their wives’ love in their relentless pursuit of a story. They’d replaced love with alcohol and hookers. Killed hope with cynicism. Love didn’t last.

Her gentle undulation above him banished thought. Except for one. Their time together wasn’t over. When his visit to Bekostan was done, he’d tell her.

Chapter Fourteen

Another beautiful day. Andie sat at the mosaic-top table in the early morning sunlight and tilted her head up to the sun’s warming rays. Closed eyes blocked one of her senses, sharpened the others.

The scent of lemon thyme, crushed underfoot on her journey to the table moments ago, wafted in the air, and if she concentrated, she fancied she could also discern the scent of lavender and stocks planted in the large terracotta pots next to the table.

Hearing too, was accentuated. Footsteps on the patio.

“Sun worshipping?” Ryan’s deep voice murmured.

Eyes flickered open. “Who knows how long this weather will last? I’m enjoying it while I can.” The words echoed in her mind.
Enjoying it while I can.
Just like the moments ticking down to Ryan’s departure. Before clouds occluded the perfect brightness. She straightened, forcing the small of her back into the chair. “No sign of Brianne yet?”

Ryan laughed. “We’ll be lucky to see her before noon. She loves her sleep.”

Lucky her. Andie had wakened the moment light streamed through the lacy voile curtains. They lay closely entwined, Ryan’s hand on her hip and her head cradled against the juncture of his shoulder and chest. She’d rested there for long moments, listening to his steady breaths, reveling in the sight of his face relaxed in sleep. Long eyelashes rested against his cheek, and morning stubble darkened his jaw line. Her fingers flexed, and her palm flattened, feeling the heart within pounding against her hand.

Tomorrow, he’d be gone. Andie’s heart had clenched as though constricted in a vice. She’d pulled in a shaky breath, pulled back, and, grabbing her clothing from the chair, had retreated into the bathroom to dress.

Escaping Ryan had been self-preservation.

Now, the perfection of the day was topped with the bitter knowledge that their time together was draining away, like flowing sand in an hourglass.

“I’ve made breakfast, are you coming in?”

Andie stood and smoothed a hand over her shorts. “Bacon sandwiches?” She raised her eyebrows in an exaggerated arc.

“Toast?” Ryan took her hand. “You ate all the bacon yesterday, remember?”

“Toast will have to do.”

Seated at the table, with toast spread with marmalade and a large mug of coffee, Andie spoke. “Does Brianne know you’re leaving tomorrow?”

Ryan’s eye’s narrowed. “No. I told her I had to leave early, but she doesn’t know…”

“She doesn’t know what?” Brianne’s voice sounded from the doorway. She was dressed in rose-covered pajamas that were way too big for her. Her hair stood up at the front, but was flattened on one side. She rubbed her fists into her eyes, like a sleepy child. There was no censure in her tone, just curiosity.

“You’re up early.” Ryan stood and pulled another cup from the cupboard. “Toast?”

“Yeah, that’d be good.”

As Ryan slotted another couple of slices of bread into the toaster, Brianne wandered to the table, feet encased in fluffy socks.

“Well? What don’t I know?”

Ryan put a cup of coffee before her, and snatched the hot toast from the toaster.

“You could walk and talk at the same time you know,” Brianne snapped. “Come on, Ry, you know I’m grumpy in the mornings.”

Ryan shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, and perched on the edge of the chair. “I haven’t told you yet that I have to leave earlier than I thought. I have to fly to Bekostan tomorrow.” His gaze leveled on hers.