Читать книгу The Bridal Chronicles - Lissa Manley, Lissa Manley - Страница 11

Ryan watched Anna clomp across the grass, her dress held high and her chin shoved into the air. A hearty dose of admiration overrode the puzzled irritation caused by her refusal to stay for the shoot. Most people saw him as a formidable foe and got the hell out of the way when he wanted something. She obviously had no problem crossing him. She was something else, all right, with her sassy threats and mule-headed refusal to cooperate.

He liked that. She was up-front and to-the-point.

Unlike any of the other women he’d known.

A vision of Sonya, the rich man-eater who’d burned him, thudded into his head. He’d met her through a mutual friend, and they’d hit it off right away. Quickly becoming inseparable, they’d become engaged after six months. He’d been happy and confident of their future, and had been totally unprepared for her calling off the wedding a month before the date. Apparently she’d determined—with quite a bit of help from her snooty parents—that despite his recent business success, he wasn’t rich enough for her taste. She’d left him almost standing at the altar, and had married a “trust funder” like her a week after she was supposed to marry Ryan.

Her cutting, unexpected betrayal had left him shell-shocked, hurt and pretty damn determined to avoid her kind—wealthy princesses who chewed up and spit out men they deemed unworthy.

But this Anna, well, she seemed to be a hardworking girl and nothing like the heiress who’d dumped him on his butt. Not that her being down-to-earth and normal really mattered. What did matter was that he wanted to keep needy little kids from having the kind of lonely, neglected childhood he’d had. He wanted the publicity for the foundation. Unfortunately it looked like Anna wasn’t going to help him out and sign that release.

And that was really a shame. If any woman could help him win Best Wedding Couple, she could. Man, what a beauty she was, all fiery auburn hair, big, gorgeous brown eyes the color of aged brandy, and smooth, pale skin. He’d need to start being solicitous, something he wished he’d thought of earlier. He impatiently unbuttoned his coat and loosened his bow tie, still feeling warm.

He had to convince her to help him out.

He stared at the tent for a second, his mind firing up. How could he change her mind to his way of thinking? Maybe he could turn her around if he knew what he was up against.

Maybe not.

Either way, now that the picture had been taken, he would do his best to make sure the paper published it. It was time to make use of his well-developed sales skills, honed from having to battle for every inch of his business success, to make Anna see the light.

A nice, conciliatory lunch seemed in order.

He headed toward the dressing tents, consisting of temporary rooms created by draped black fabric and wood frames. Anna was nowhere in sight, but he figured she was still changing, unless she’d taken off in full wedding attire.

He moved closer to the opening in the fluttering material, spying the reporter—was her name Colleen?—as he drew near. The tall, attractive blonde stepped out, looking as frustrated as he felt.

“She still changing?” he asked.

She nodded and gave a tiny roll of her blue eyes. “She’s pretty mad.”

“I know.” He loosened his tie more, which was beginning to strangle the life out of him.

She gave him a wry smile. “You must have really gotten under her skin.”

Before he could react to that regrettable assessment, Anna’s head popped out from between the sheets. “I can hear every word you’re saying, you know.”

He stared at her for a long second, knocked speechless again by her lush auburn hair, clear, stunning brown eyes, arched eyebrows and creamy, flawless skin.

What a looker.

Recovering, he gave her a lopsided grin and winked, determined to keep things light. Maybe humor would gain her cooperation. “Then we’ll have to save any secrets for later.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “How can you joke around?”

He shrugged. “Maybe we both need to lighten up.”

She looked at the reporter. “Can’t you get rid of him?”

The other woman backed away, waving her hands in front of her. “I’m not getting involved in any of this.” She took her keys out of her purse. “I gotta go.”

“Traitor,” Anna said under her breath, her face screwed into a frown.

The reporter laughed. “Hey, I’m not helping either one of you out.” She raised a brow. “You backed out on our deal, so you’re on your own, although I would like you to reconsider and sign the release. Think how good it would be for your business.”

Anna’s scowl faded, but the tiny crease between her brows remained. “I’m really sorry, Colleen. I lost my nerve.”

“I know. But my editor is expecting to go ahead with the whole thing, especially since you’re the last photo to be taken and the spread’s almost ready for production.” She turned to leave. “Why don’t you think about it and contact me later, all right?” she said over her shoulder. “And keep in mind how hard it will be for me to find someone else on such short notice.”

Anna half nodded and Colleen left. Ryan mulled over how Joe Capriati, the supervising editor, had stressed the importance of the photo-release waiver. According to Joe, the Beacon required the release because some woman had sued the paper after they’d printed her picture without her permission the year before. They weren’t taking any chances now.

He looked to Anna, gearing up to do a little steamrolling to convince her to change her mind and sign that release.

She had pressed her glossy, pink lips into a firm line and was glaring at him, something he didn’t get the impression she did very often.

“Please leave me alone,” she said.

He raised his brows. “Oooooh, that’s real scary.”

She sniffed and yanked her head back into the dressing room, rattling the curtain. “I can be scarier, I assure you.”

His smile grew. Even though she could blow his whole plan for damage control and good publicity for the foundation sky-high, he liked her gumption. “Yeah, you’re a real scary gal,” he said, searching for levity.

He then took out his handheld, electronic planner and consulted it. No meetings until four o’clock. Plenty of time to convince her to sign the release. “How about lunch?”

She popped her head out and blinked owlishly. “You’re asking me out?”

“Well, yeah. Is that a problem?”

“Maybe.” She disappeared again. A moment later, she emerged wearing a light pink cotton sweater and figure-hugging, dark blue designer jeans that showed off her trim but curvy body. She had her wedding dress, covered by a garment bag, draped over one arm and an oversized straw tote bag in the other hand.

He snagged another look at her curves without being too obvious, his blood percolating. Damn, she was hot.

“I don’t usually go out with guys like you,” she said.

Guys like him. His hackles raised. Could she somehow smell the dirt poor of his childhood on him? He was sure that was one of the reasons Sonya had dumped him.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you mean, ‘like me’?”

“You know.” She waved a hand in the air. “Good-looking. Dimpled. Don’t make me go on.”

His hackles relaxed and her compliment filled him with a sense of pleasure. “Oh, so you’d rather spend time with an unappealing man without dimples?”

“Quite frankly, yes.” She ran her hands through her heavily styled, dark red hair, loosening the stiff strands. “I’ve found that most really charismatic men are selfish, manipulative, and—” she shrugged “—hurtful.”

Ryan instantly wanted to know what selfish jerk had hurt her. But he was pretty sure she wouldn’t share that sort of information with him. She barely knew him. “How about if I promise to behave? Then will you go? Quite frankly, I’m starving.” And he hated that feeling. It reminded him how often he hadn’t had enough to eat during his childhood. Now, eating was his favorite pastime.

She sighed heavily and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Look,” he said, taking another tack to convince her to go. “What’s the harm in an innocent lunch? You have to eat, right?”

She looked at him, an odd worry clearly reflected in her brown eyes. She chewed on her lip, glanced away, then looked back. She then rummaged around in her tote bag. “Can we go somewhere vegetarian?”

He cringed. He’d been a meat and potatoes man, and whatever else he could get his hands on, after he’d spent his childhood living off nothing but his mom’s stale sandwiches made with a layer of peanut butter so thin he could barely taste it. “How about a compromise?” he suggested. “I know a place where you can go veggie and I can get a thick steak.”

She drew out a large pair of dark sunglasses and put them on. “You eat steak? For lunch? That sounds wonderful.”

He stared quizzically at the shades for a moment. Why was she wearing such big, ugly sunglasses? He then cupped her elbow with his hand, appreciating the softness of her skin. “You don’t look like you need to diet.” Not with a body like that. And it surprised him that she liked the sound of steak. He figured her for a genuine legumes-for-lunch kind of gal.

“I don’t, but in the interest of keeping my body healthy, I make myself stay away from fatty food,” she said. She pierced him with her dark eyes. “Okay. You’ve talked me into it. Lead the way.”

“Let me change and we’ll go.” He headed toward the tent where he’d left his street clothes, inordinately happy she’d agreed to go considering this lunch was nothing but an opportunity to convince her to sign the release.

As he changed out of his tux, a vision of Sonya rose in his brain like a bad dream. Maybe he shouldn’t spend any time with Anna, who he was obviously attracted to.

He willed away the tiny lump of anxiety taking up residence in his gut. Relax. Lunch with Anna was no big deal. It was for his image and his pet charity, an organization that helped underprivileged kids. Two very good causes he was committed to. Yes, lunch with the delectable Anna was simply a casual meal designed to garner her cooperation.

Nothing more than that, right?

Anna followed the waiter through the posh restaurant to their table. She tried to calm her still fluttering nerves. What had possessed her to agree to this lunch?

Aside from her unacceptable fascination with the handsome man following behind her, his hand burning a hole in the small of her back, of course.

Actually, she’d agreed to appease her guilt, hoping she could help Ryan come up with another way to acquire the publicity he wanted for his charity. She’d had quite a bit of experience, through her mother, with charitable organizations and fund-raising.

And it certainly wasn’t a crime to enjoy a necessary meal with an attractive, charming male, something she hadn’t experienced since Giorgio had swept her off her feet.

A cold shiver slid up her spine. Giorgio had been oh-so-attractive and charming at first, blinding her to his true nature and intentions. Like a total ninny, she’d forgotten all of the other men who’d burned her and she’d fallen for him faster than a bear stock market. She couldn’t let down her guard and make that mistake again.

Thankfully, this was a simple lunch to discuss Ryan’s charity, not a date. Forcing her thoughts away from Giorgio, she swallowed and tried to focus on her goal—to find another way to help Ryan so he would leave her alone, ensuring her secret identity would be safe.

She pressed her large straw hat lower on her head and adjusted her sunglasses when every woman they passed turned to watch Ryan walk by. At what she guessed to be well over six feet two inches, he was hard to miss. Especially since his tall, broad body was impeccably presented by the well-cut designer business suit he’d changed into. He moved with an easy, loose-limbed male grace that all women probably found hard to ignore.

Anna vowed to fly in the face of tradition.

Ryan was just a guy who had offered to buy her lunch.

No problem.

She would simply eat lunch, brainstorm about fund-raising, and that would be the end of their brief association.

The waiter seated them in a secluded booth at a table draped in white linen, set with lots of crystal and silver gleaming in the muted afternoon sunlight. People dressed in business attire talked in subdued tones and muted strains of Vivaldi floated to her ears.

The pleasant, earthy scent of cooking meat laced the air. Her mouth watered but she tried to ignore the feeling in favor of maintaining a healthy diet.

Did Ryan eat at such elegant places often? She usually avoided swanky restaurants because she’d spent too many hours of her youth stuck with the pretensions and dictates of society her father had drilled into her head.

She could make her own choices now, thank goodness.

Anna took the menu and opened it, pleased and surprised by the vegetarian selections, then glanced at Ryan. “Aren’t you going to look at the menu?”

“I already know what I’m having.”

“Oh. So you come here often?”

“All the time. Their steaks are the best in town.”

“You like to eat, don’t you?” she asked, smiling.

A shadow appeared in his eyes. “Yeah, I do,” he said curtly.

She drew her brows together, puzzled by his clipped answer, then turned her attention back to the menu. Even though her mouth was still watering over the smell of steak in the air, she suppressed a shudder at what his arteries must look like if he ate red meat all the time.

She then decided on a pasta and vegetable dish, and looked back at Ryan, who gazed at her with undisguised interest. “What?” she asked, ignoring the thrill that raced through her when he looked at her with his piercing blue eyes.

He kicked up the corner of his mouth. “I was just wondering why you’re wearing that hat and glasses. They don’t look like your style.”

She glanced away, then pushed her hair behind her ear beneath her hat. How could she possibly explain her outlandish disguise? The truth was, she couldn’t without giving away her real identity.

But Ryan had already seen her face, and hadn’t recognized her. Maybe her auburn dye job had thrown him off track. Since their booth was fairly well hidden, perhaps she could dispense with the hat and glasses during lunch to shove Ryan off the subject. “I…uh, well…” She removed her hat and glasses and put them in her straw tote bag. “No reason.” She gave him a brilliant smile.

He stared at her appreciatively and smiled back, shaking his head as if so say, “Yeah, right.” “Okay, you have your reasons, which you obviously aren’t going to share with me. What I want to know is why you agreed to pose for the spread in the first place.”

She held up her hands. “Look, I know it seems strange, but the regular model didn’t show and I needed my gown to be part of the spread.” She picked up her water glass and gave him a wry smile. “I know changing my mind might seem silly. But when you showed up…well, you weren’t what I was expecting.”

He leaned his forearms on the table and lifted a quizzical brow. “How so?”

“Oh, come on,” she said, smiling. “You must know that you’re an attractive man. I didn’t want to risk winning Best Couple and having to take part in any more…stuff.” Being in front of a camera had always terrified her. Or, rather, the results terrified her.

“Oh, so I’m a dangerous guy, then?” he asked, mischief glinting in his eyes. His dimple flashed at the corner of his mouth. “I’m wounded.”

Anna felt herself heating up, reacting to his teasing tone and appealing, lazy grin. “Yeah, I’ll bet.” She took a long swig of water, hoping to cool down. “You, Mr. Cavanaugh, are the kind of man who is inherently dangerous.”

His expression sobered. “You’re serious.”

“Absolutely. I’ve known men like you.” Men who made you trust, convinced you to believe, then broke your heart. “All flash and charisma. Nothing more.”

He leaned forward, his eyes intent. “Thanks a lot. And maybe I should mention that the wedding pictures were going to be fake, remember? You weren’t really marrying me, you know.”

No, she wasn’t. She was never going to have the kind of fairy-tale wedding she designed gowns for. She doubted she’d ever be marrying anyone or that she would ever be able to trust another man again. And that had to be fine. If she succeeded in meeting her father’s terms, her design business would be enough and, more importantly, would prove she had worth beyond her cash value or her banking skills.

She inclined her head. “You have a point, and I realize I may have…overreacted. But in my opinion, with you as my groom, winning Best Couple would have been a given.”

He glanced down and almost looked embarrassed by her compliment. “Well, I don’t know about that…” He trailed off and cleared his throat. “So you think you overreacted?” he asked, blatantly directing the subject away from himself.

She took a whole wheat roll from the basket on the table and eyed Ryan thoughtfully, wondering about the incongruity between his extreme good looks and polish and his almost blushing discomfiture over her flattering remark. “Maybe,” she hedged, hardly able to tell him that what other men had put her through had left a wound that affected all of the decisions she made. “Why all the questions?”

He rubbed his neck and looked sideways at her. “Other than the fact that you’re running around like a secret agent with a floppy hat and dark glasses on?” He opened one side of his jacket, cocked his head toward his shoulder and said, “Come in Double-O-Seven, come in.”

She grinned and held up her hands, liking this teasing, lighthearted side of him. “All right, all right,” she said, laughing. “I get the picture.” She sat for a long moment, gradually sobering. She had to remember why her disguise was so important—she wanted to succeed on her own. “I admit, what I’m doing seems strange, and maybe a little comical, but, trust me, I have a good reason, all right?”

He gazed at her for a moment, his expression turning serious, then nodded. “All right. And for the record, I was also asking questions because I’m curious about why you backed out. As I said, my charity is in the middle of a fund-raising campaign, and could really use the publicity the article would have generated. Seeing as how the Mentor A Child Foundation will suffer, I wanted to know what your reasons were.”

A bothersome sensation rolled around inside of her. Mentor A Child helped little kids and she might be keeping that from happening. “Are my admittedly nebulous reasons good enough for you?”

He lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “I guess, although I was hoping maybe you’d reconsider.”

A heavy load of guilt for not helping him smothered her. “Isn’t there any other way to get the publicity you need?” she asked, hoping to appease her guilt. She’d always been a pleaser, just like her mom, and it went against her natural instincts to do something that might hurt someone else—especially needy children.

“Maybe. But this article would reach a lot of readers and would be a great way to raise awareness for the Mentor A Child Foundation.” He paused and took a roll and put it on his bread plate. “Although there is a bungee-jumping stunt I was considering.”

Horror shot through her. “Bungee jumping? Are you crazy?”

“No, just driven to support this charity,” he said seriously. “Mentor A Child helps little kids who have nobody else in their lives.”

She was surprised that a flashy guy like him would care about little kids. Most didn’t. “Why don’t you just pay to run ads on TV or in the newspaper then? I’m sure you could afford to do that, right?”

He looked away. “I could,” he said, inclining his head, a new shadow lurking in his eyes. “And I will if I have to. But…this way the publicity wouldn’t seem so self-serving. You know what I mean?”

She nodded, studying him, sensing that there was more to this than he was letting on. But she wouldn’t press; she had her little secret, too, and the less said, the better.

The waiter arrived. Anna ordered, knowing she needed to eat, but the guilt and apprehension roiling around in her stomach like acid had killed her appetite. Was she overreacting and being selfish by saying no to the article? Or was she just being smart by keeping her distance from a man who seemed so much like the other men who’d scorched her, not to mention that she would be ensuring the success of her business? She’d never had something that she could call her own, something that wasn’t somehow given to her because of her connection to the Sinclair name. It was important for her dream to succeed on her own merits.

On the other hand, it was exceedingly difficult to ignore the fact that she was disappointing a lot of people, and possibly damaging Ryan’s charity, by backing out now. Should she reconsider? It had always been tough for her to put herself first, to stand up to other people, usually her dad, to get what she wanted.

Feeling torn, she eyed Ryan. “I feel really bad about all of this.”

He pinned her with his sapphire eyes. “Bad enough to change your mind?”

She let out a heavy breath. How had this become so complicated? Ever since she’d attended a fairy-tale wedding when she was a young girl, all she’d ever wanted to do was design wedding dresses. The fantasy of weddings had always appealed to her. To be able to do that, however, she had to meet her father’s terms, and that meant concealing her identity long enough to succeed on her own.

It didn’t help that, just like her dear mother, Anna had a soft streak a mile wide and a deep sense of altruism she was proud of. Her mother had always supported numerous charities.

Thinking of her wonderfully philanthropic mother clinched it. Anna simply couldn’t, in good conscience, ignore his charitable efforts. “Oh, all right,” she whispered, gripping the edge of the table, hoping she didn’t regret this decision. “I’ll sign the release.”

He reached over and put his hand on hers, then gently rubbed his fingers over the back of her hand. The contact made her jump, but she didn’t retract her hand. Warmth spread into every cell in her body, and she wanted to curl her fingers around his big, solid hand. She didn’t. Ryan was the wrong man for her to hold on to. She knew now that any man was.

“Thank you,” he said, his eyes warm with gratitude. “I appreciate it.”

She tugged her hand from his, needing to sever the connection between them. She might have overreacted to “The Bridal Chronicles,” but she wasn’t overreacting to Ryan. He was dangerous, everything she’d learned to avoid.

She reached for her water glass again and gulped some down. When she’d arrived at the restaurant, she hadn’t thought having lunch with Ryan would be a problem. But she’d been dead wrong. Not only had he talked her into signing the release, but she was also extremely attracted to a man she should stay away from.

Was history repeating itself?

A hollow pit formed in her stomach and she couldn’t help feeling that she was making another giant mistake.

Ryan stood next to his car and put up a hand to Anna as she climbed into her small car. She’d promised to meet him at the Beacon right away to sign the release.

Dragging his eyes away from the enticing curve of her hip as she slid into the seat, he focused on her gorgeous face, the lower part visible beneath the wide brim of the ridiculous hat she’d put back on.

What a beauty she was. He’d been spellbound by her creamy skin and how it had glowed in the muted lighting of the restaurant. Her thick, dark red hair had perfectly contrasted with her porcelain complexion and stunning, amber-shaded eyes.

Yeah, she was just the “bride” he needed. He frowned. For publicity, of course. After Sonya’s torching, posing for a fake wedding photo was as close as he’d ever get to being part of a wedded couple.

He sat down, turned on the ignition, and shifted his Porsche into gear, heading out of the parking lot.

Thank goodness his lunch date had turned out so well and Anna had changed her mind.

As he cruised toward the bridge that would take him over the Willamette River, he relaxed. Anna had agreed to sign the release, clearing the way for the picture to be printed. The Mentor A Child Foundation would get the publicity they needed and, hopefully, lots of neglected kids would be spared the kind of childhood he’d had. No thanks to Joanna, his image was well on the way to being squeaky clean again.

Smiling, he downshifted and zipped past another car, enjoying the sight of the Portland skyline, rising majestically in front of him against the spectacular, blue summer sky. He glanced down at the river running beneath the bridge. Sailboats and pleasure-craft bobbed like toys on the sparkling water. Casting his gaze right, he admired the other bridges connecting Portland’s east and west sides. Ahead of him loomed the West Hills, studded with evergreens glowing like emeralds in the sun.

Light-years from the ramshackle dump located in a podunk town in eastern Washington State he’d grown up in. Surrounded by poverty, constantly hungry, he’d dreamed of living in a city like Portland, a prosperous city full of tall buildings, sparkling rivers and opportunities for those, like himself, willing to work for them.

With those dreams driving him, he’d left his dirt-poor, horrific childhood and neglectful parents behind at seventeen. He’d worked his way through college digging ditches, scraped his way up and built his business from nothing. Now, ten years after he’d graduated, he was a successful businessman. He had the opportunity to promote an organization he believed in, an organization that helped kids who reminded him of himself.

When he reached the west side of the river, he swung a quick left and headed toward the office of the Beacon. Heady anticipation rose in him, carving away some of the worry that had been eating at him since Joanna had dumped her lies on the press about the kind of employer he was and his image had taken a nosedive, threatening his involvement with the foundation.

Tightening his hand on the steering wheel, he downshifted and jetted through an intersection, just making the light. He stopped at the next red light, looked in the rearview mirror and straightened his tie. Best Wedding Couple and free publicity for the Mentor A Child Foundation were just around the corner. Things were going exactly the way he wanted.

Within days, his problems would be solved.

And Anna’s problems?

Ryan shoved that niggling thought away. Anna might be a hardworking, normal woman he admired, but that didn’t make any difference. He needed to concentrate on what was important.

His business.

His charity work.

Keeping his heart safe.

After Sonya, he couldn’t let anything else matter.