Ryan Armstrong,” the voice intoned. “There’s no comment as yet from Miss Harte on the news that the charred and mutilated body has been identified…” Ryan turned off the radio.
He pulled into a lay-by and turned to Andie, who covered her mouth with both hands, as if to hold back whatever sound wanted to escape.
His heart sank as the passionate miasma enveloping them dissipated like mist. “I’m sorry.”
Tears threatened in the blueness of her eyes. She rolled in her bottom lip, and clenched down on it for a moment. “Hearing it again…the way she died…” Arms crossed over her torso, hugging tight.
“I know.” A deep sense of loss filled Ryan. Loss for the stolen moments yet to come. He forced the feeling away. Damped down his emotions. She needed him to be practical, to deal with this situation. Silence stretched for long moments. “We’ll go in to my office. You should make a statement.” Once the press heard from Andie, their blood lust would be satisfied. The photographers waiting outside her home would drift away, and they’d both be able to get on with their own lives.
Ryan turned the car, and headed towards London.
“I have to cancel my appointment.” Andie pulled her large black handbag from the floor and rummaged around in it, then unzipped a pocket at the front and retrieved a small white card.
She tapped in a number. “Dr. Stern? Hi, it’s Andie Harte.” A quick glance revealed she was turning the card over and over between nervous fingers. “I’m sorry for the short notice, but I have to cancel my two o’clock.”
She listened, then gave a shaky smile. “No, I’m not avoiding it. Things are crazy here…yes, the press is everywhere. I just need a few days, I’ll call next week to reschedule.”
She hung up and stuffed the things back into the bag.
Was she sick? Ryan waited for her to reveal more about the meeting she’d just cancelled, but she stayed silent.
Mere moments before they’d been preparing to go home and tumble into bed, to be as intimate as it is possible to physically be with each other. Asking about the phone call was a different type of intimate. A line he couldn’t cross.
They joined the motorway.
He called the news network through his hands-free as the powerful car ate up the miles.
“She’ll need a jacket for on-air. Navy, size ten,” he stated, acknowledging Andie’s nod with a tight smile. He glanced at his wristwatch. “Yes, schedule the segment for the three o’clock news bulletin.”
Ryan disconnected the call, and reached across to squeeze Andie’s hand briefly before returning it to the wheel. “It’ll be over soon, and tomorrow…”
He stared through the windscreen. “Let’s deal with tomorrow when it comes.”
Starting an affair with Andie when he had to get back to Bekostan and organize the interview with Arnat was crazy.
All it could be was a stolen few days of passion. He couldn’t offer more than that, but the thought of ending this before it had properly begun chewed at his gut. The sensible thing was to walk away before they got in any deeper. Before this burning inside blazed out of control, and her emotions got scorched.
But dammit, walking away was not an option.
*****
Ryan was quite something in his native environment. As they strode through the large glass double doors of the television station, many people acknowledged his presence with a nod and the occasional smile, but it wasn’t until the door swung into an inner office that anyone actually approached.
“Joe.” Ryan shook the hand of an elegantly tall, thin interviewer Andie recognized from the news. “This is Andie.”
“Hi, Andie,” Joe said. “We’re going to do a five minute segment. I’ll ask you a couple of questions and we’ll film your answers. It won’t be live, so don’t worry about messing up. We can always re-shoot.” His warm smile was sympathetic. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Andie nodded.
“Karen here will take you
He pulled into a lay-by and turned to Andie, who covered her mouth with both hands, as if to hold back whatever sound wanted to escape.
His heart sank as the passionate miasma enveloping them dissipated like mist. “I’m sorry.”
Tears threatened in the blueness of her eyes. She rolled in her bottom lip, and clenched down on it for a moment. “Hearing it again…the way she died…” Arms crossed over her torso, hugging tight.
“I know.” A deep sense of loss filled Ryan. Loss for the stolen moments yet to come. He forced the feeling away. Damped down his emotions. She needed him to be practical, to deal with this situation. Silence stretched for long moments. “We’ll go in to my office. You should make a statement.” Once the press heard from Andie, their blood lust would be satisfied. The photographers waiting outside her home would drift away, and they’d both be able to get on with their own lives.
Ryan turned the car, and headed towards London.
“I have to cancel my appointment.” Andie pulled her large black handbag from the floor and rummaged around in it, then unzipped a pocket at the front and retrieved a small white card.
She tapped in a number. “Dr. Stern? Hi, it’s Andie Harte.” A quick glance revealed she was turning the card over and over between nervous fingers. “I’m sorry for the short notice, but I have to cancel my two o’clock.”
She listened, then gave a shaky smile. “No, I’m not avoiding it. Things are crazy here…yes, the press is everywhere. I just need a few days, I’ll call next week to reschedule.”
She hung up and stuffed the things back into the bag.
Was she sick? Ryan waited for her to reveal more about the meeting she’d just cancelled, but she stayed silent.
Mere moments before they’d been preparing to go home and tumble into bed, to be as intimate as it is possible to physically be with each other. Asking about the phone call was a different type of intimate. A line he couldn’t cross.
They joined the motorway.
He called the news network through his hands-free as the powerful car ate up the miles.
“She’ll need a jacket for on-air. Navy, size ten,” he stated, acknowledging Andie’s nod with a tight smile. He glanced at his wristwatch. “Yes, schedule the segment for the three o’clock news bulletin.”
Ryan disconnected the call, and reached across to squeeze Andie’s hand briefly before returning it to the wheel. “It’ll be over soon, and tomorrow…”
He stared through the windscreen. “Let’s deal with tomorrow when it comes.”
Starting an affair with Andie when he had to get back to Bekostan and organize the interview with Arnat was crazy.
All it could be was a stolen few days of passion. He couldn’t offer more than that, but the thought of ending this before it had properly begun chewed at his gut. The sensible thing was to walk away before they got in any deeper. Before this burning inside blazed out of control, and her emotions got scorched.
But dammit, walking away was not an option.
*****
Ryan was quite something in his native environment. As they strode through the large glass double doors of the television station, many people acknowledged his presence with a nod and the occasional smile, but it wasn’t until the door swung into an inner office that anyone actually approached.
“Joe.” Ryan shook the hand of an elegantly tall, thin interviewer Andie recognized from the news. “This is Andie.”
“Hi, Andie,” Joe said. “We’re going to do a five minute segment. I’ll ask you a couple of questions and we’ll film your answers. It won’t be live, so don’t worry about messing up. We can always re-shoot.” His warm smile was sympathetic. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Andie nodded.
“Karen here will take you
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