Читать книгу Kissed By a Stranger - Valerie Parv, Valerie Parv - Страница 7

CHAPTER TWO

A WEEK later, Sarah joined Kitty for cappuccino at the Oasis on Broadbeach. Aware of the curious glances they were receiving, she tried to ignore them. It was part and parcel of having your face on television every other week.

Kitty leaned closer. ‘Have the powers-that-be decided on a permanent anchor for Coast to Coast yet?’

Sarah played with the froth on her coffee. ‘Richard seems to have the inside running, simply because he happens to be male. If only I could come up with a real attention-grabber of a story.’

Kitty grinned. ‘I can think of one.’

‘You mean Luke Ansfield?’ Sarah shook her head fiercely. ‘I gave him my word I wouldn’t mention that he was the man who rescued me.’

‘What if it comes down to Luke’s privacy or your job?’

Sarah shook her hair back. ‘I wish you wouldn’t ask awkward questions, Kit. Maybe I’m not much of a journalist if my word means more to me than a story, but I only know it does.’

A Ulysses butterfly hovered over the table and Kitty watched it before she said, ‘What about Luke himself? What does he mean to you?’

Sarah started so forcefully that the butterfly swooped away. ‘He doesn’t mean anything to me. We’ve only met twice, and one of those times I was in no condition to appreciate the experience.’

Kitty nodded sagely. ‘You were so much in shock you made a beeline for my office to find out who he was.’

‘All right, he made an impact. But he hasn’t called me since I went to his place to thank him.’

Cradling her cup in both hands, Kitty met Sarah’s eyes. ‘Do you want him to call?’

‘Of course not . . . Well, maybe.’ Yes, definitely, sang an inner voice so loudly that it was a wonder Kitty didn’t hear it. Sarah had hoped that Luke would contact her. She hadn’t misread the sparks which had charged the air between them. It was a stronger feeling than anything she’d ever know. His role in rescuing her didn’t begin to account for it.

He didn’t have her telephone number but he could easily have reached her at the studio. His silence rankled more than she cared to admit, even to her best friend.

Kitty startled her by slamming the cup down hard on the mesh tabletop. ‘For goodness’ sake, woman. Move into the present. You don’t have to wait by the phone any more. What’s stopping you from calling him?’

Kitty was right, and Sarah had asked men out on occasion. But with Luke it was different. It wasn’t that she thought he would object to her calling so much as fear that he didn’t want to hear from her at all. As long as she did nothing, there was still a chance he would get in touch.

She was interrupted by a middle-aged couple, tourists judging by their cameras and travel company hand luggage, asking for her autograph.

She gave it with a smile, earning their gratitude. ‘Wait till we tell our daughter. She lives up here,’ the woman explained.

They left and Sarah released a pent-up breath. ‘I still don’t understand why Luke hides away in the Hinterland. I know that public attention can be difficult, but there must be more to his decision.’

Kitty shrugged. ‘I only know there was something in his past which made him want to escape the limelight. Maybe he just got tired of the adulation.’ She grinned. ‘You must be the only woman for miles who wouldn’t recognise him on sight.’

‘Motor racing was never my sport,’ Sarah said. ‘He looked familiar, but I was too groggy from the accident to wonder why. So many people look familiar to me in my job; it didn’t strike me as unusual.’

‘But they don’t all knock you for a loop,’ Kitty said with a smile. ‘Admit it, Sarah, he got to you.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Not surprisingly. Having the kiss of life performed on you by Luke Ansfield would bowl any woman over.’

‘He did not bowl me over,’ Sarah insisted with less than total honesty. ‘Why are we having this conversation anyway? I’ll probably never hear from the man again.’

She should have known better than to tempt fate when a low voice said close beside her, ‘Good morning, Sarah.’

Her throat dried and it was all she could do to summon the one word. ‘Luke.’

‘We were just talking about you,’ her friend said, earning a sharp kick under the table.

‘Luke Ansfield, this is Kitty Sale. Kitty runs a photo library,’ Sarah explained.

He regarded Kitty with interest. ‘Haven’t we met before?’

Kitty nodded. ‘I’m amazed you remember. I used to date Gavin Corcoran who was . . . ’

‘One of the pit crew when I raced with Team Branxton,’ he supplied. ‘Do you still see Gavin?’

‘We broke up a couple of years ago. I’m kind of available right now.’

Sarah wanted to kill her friend there and then, until she saw what Kitty was up to. Well, it wasn’t going to work. She didn’t know Luke well enough to care whom he dated. Nor was she likely to reach that exalted state. He was already making restless moves. ‘Nice seeing you again, Sarah—Kitty.’

‘Join us for coffee,’ Kitty invited. He seemed about to refuse until she added, ‘I have to go, but Sarah would be glad of the company.’

Yes, she would definitely have to kill Kitty later. What was the matter with the woman? Matchmaking wasn’t usually her style, unless it was on her own account. ‘You said you weren’t busy this morning,’ she hissed.

‘Just remembered an urgent job,’ Kitty said cheerfully, picking up her satchel. ‘See you two later. Have fun.’

Have fun, indeed. A panicky sensation gripped Sarah as Luke slid into Kitty’s vacant chair and signalled the waiter to bring more coffee. He ordered his long and black, she noticed, with the odd awareness she seemed to be developing about him. Small things, such as the way his dark chest hair curled invitingly around the open neck of his polo shirt, seemed to leap out at her unbidden.

‘You don’t have to keep me company if you have other things you’d rather be doing,’ she offered around the tightness constricting her throat.

‘If I had other things to do, rest assured I’d be doing them,’ he stated. ‘Right now, this has a lot of appeal.’

‘It is a lovely day,’ she agreed, choosing to misunderstand. He was only being polite, she assumed.

His eyes rested on her, their sea-depths compelling in the sparkling Broadbeach sunshine. ‘Beautiful,’ he said, in a deep voice redolent with double meanings. He took a sip of coffee, and the way the steam curled around his sensuously full upper lip hammered through that strange awareness.

‘What are you doing in Broadbeach?’ she asked, finding her tongue at last.

‘I had business in town,’ he said dismissively. ‘Are you fully recovered from the accident?’

She frowned. Was she ever going to get a direct answer from this man? ‘I’m fine, thanks,’ she said tautly. ‘The studio wasn’t thrilled about their car, though, and I’m stuck using cabs until they get around to giving me a new one.’ Thinking of the accident reminded her of her amazingly lucky escape. If Luke hadn’t pulled her clear . . .

‘You’re alive, that’s the main thing,’ he said, as if reading her thoughts.

‘Thanks to you. Of all people, you knew the risk of the car exploding, but you didn’t hesitate.’ It was the first time anyone had risked their life for her.

‘Anyone would have done the same,’ he insisted.

‘But they didn’t.’ She gathered her courage in both hands. ‘Why didn’t you want your face seen on television? Was it something to do with why you gave up racing?’

‘Maybe I’ve had enough of celebrity,’ he said, although she felt certain it wasn’t the whole answer. The feeling nagged at her, but he deflected it by asking, ‘Doesn’t it bother you to have people stare at you wherever you go?’

She glanced down at the table. ‘It’s part of the job,’ she said, disliking the defensive note which had crept into her tone.

He gave her a studied look. ‘You enjoy it, don’t you?’

She tossed her hair back, meeting his gaze defiantly. ‘I worked damned hard to get where I am now. Why shouldn’t I enjoy it?’

He drained his cup. ‘You’re right. There’s no reason you shouldn’t enjoy it—for now. But when you find you can’t go anywhere or do anything without attracting attention, and it becomes impossible to tell if your friends like you for yourself or your celebrity, then tell me how enjoyable you find it. I have to go. Nice seeing you again, Sarah.’

A knife-life sensation stabbed through her. He was about to walk out of her life as swiftly as he’d entered it, and every fibre of her being shrieked a protest. Without thinking, she said, ‘Don’t go, please. At least not like this.’

‘Believe me, Sarah, it’s better if I do.’

‘Better for whom—you?’

It was said so bitterly that a flame ignited behind his dark eyes. He raked a hand through his hair and the silver streaks glinted in the sunlight before he smoothed them down again. ‘I’m thinking of you, Sarah, not myself. You’re correct; you do have a right to enjoy your hard-earned fame. My opinion on the subject shouldn’t influence you.’

She managed a shaky laugh. ‘I think we just had our first fight.’

After a moment’s pause, he laughed too. The sound was unexpectedly warm, diffusing some of the tension radiating out of him. ‘It probably means we’re engaged,’ he said.

A strange thrill shot through her, setting thousands of nerve-endings on fire. It took every bit of self-control she possessed to match his jocular tone. ‘Let’s see, we’ve kissed—in the line of duty, of course—we’ve shared coffee, and now we’ve had a minor disagreement. These days that practically constitutes a relationship.’

He regarded her gravely. ‘I can hardly walk out on such a long-standing relationship, can I? Have you had lunch yet?’

She glanced at her watch. It was well past noon. ‘I’ll have to do something about it soon. I’m due at the studio at two.’

‘Your show isn’t on air until tonight,’ he said.

‘But there are promos—promotional commercials—to be recorded, stories to edit and scripts to write,’ she pointed out, adding with a sigh, ‘You aren’t the first person to think that just because the show lasts an hour I work only an hour a day.’

‘I’ve had enough contact with the media not to make that mistake,’ he assured her. ‘But I thought Richard Nero was tonight’s presenter. I gather you take turns.’

It thrilled her much more than it should have to think he kept up to date on her career. It was common enough knowledge, and probably meant nothing, but for some reason the discovery pleased her. ‘Tonight’s show is part of a charity fund-raising telethon, so we’re doing it together for once,’ she explained.

‘You don’t relish the experience?’

She looked away. ‘I can’t stand the man. He wants the job of permanent anchor and will do anything to get it.’

‘And you?’

She felt herself flushing. Surely he didn’t think she was as ruthlessly ambitious as Richard Nero? ‘I want it,’ she admitted frankly. ‘But I’d rather win it on merit than play corporate politics to achieve it.’

‘You don’t think Nero has merit?’

‘Of course he does. But ethics should play a part in getting stories.’

‘Then it’s just as well it was you and not Richard Nero I pulled out of the car,’ Luke observed.

She couldn’t help smiling. ‘Would you have given the kiss of life to Richard so readily?’

His assessing gaze lingered on her face. ‘Let’s say it wouldn’t have been so . . . pleasurable.’ There was a wealth of meaning in the way he said the word. He knew, she thought as warmth pervaded her limbs. He knew exactly his effect on her from the moment his mouth had touched hers.

She felt the blood scorch her face and wished for a concealing layer of television make-up. As it was, she wore almost none when she wasn’t working, so her discomfiture blazed like a beacon for him to see.

‘Sarah?’ he queried softly.

‘I . . . uh . . . let’s have lunch,’ she said, taking refuge behind the café’s menu. For a small beachfront establishment, it boasted an amazingly large menu—for which she was grateful as she hid behind it.

From her hiding place she heard the throaty growl of his laughter. The wretched man was mocking her. She lowered the menu, her eyes flashing fury at him. ‘What’s so funny?’

‘You,’ he said pointedly. ‘The case-hardened TV reporter can still blush. It’s quite a contrast.’

‘I’m not blushing,’ she denied fiercely. ‘It’s the sun. It’s...’

‘The sun,’ he echoed flatly. ‘Not the thought of me holding you, kissing you, breathing into that delectable mouth of yours.’

‘Stop it,’ she hissed, looking around to be sure no one could hear him. It would be all over the local newspapers next day. Luckily there was no one close enough to eavesdrop. ‘If you recall, I did you a favour, helping you conceal your identity from the cameras. I could have screamed the place down, you know.’

He steepled his hands on the table in front of him. ‘Why didn’t you scream?’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Yes, you do. You enjoyed it. Both times. And now you’re wondering how soon we can do it again—preferably without having to write off a couple of vehicles first.’

She felt her eyes widening. ‘You’re unbelievable. You don’t, by any chance, subscribe to the theory that a life you save becomes yours, do you?’

‘It would never occur to me,’ he said mildly. ‘But you didn’t answer my question. Do you want to repeat the experience, Sarah?’

Confusion rocketed through her. Now that he was actually asking if she wanted to see him again, she wasn’t sure of the answer herself. He had haunted her thoughts ever since he’d pulled her from the wreckage, but they were poles apart in beliefs and value systems. ‘I thought you hated the limelight,’ she said, avoiding a direct answer.

‘This has nothing to do with limelight. I want a place in your life, not on your show.’

She drew a taut breath. ‘My show and my life are pretty much intertwined.’

‘They don’t have to be.’ He took the menu from her hands and set it to one side. ‘You’re more than your work, Sarah. Once, I believed I was nothing unless I was in the cockpit of a Formula One car, beating the field at San Merino. Four years off the circuit, living an ordinary life, has shown me it isn’t true. Your own valuation of yourself is what counts, not world championships or the centre seat on some television show.’

‘Tell that to my parents,’ she said sourly. ‘For the first time in my life they’re actually proud of me, because I’m doing this job.’

He gestured dismissively. ‘Then more fool them. They should have been proud of you the moment they set eyes on you, just for being you.’

She gave a hollow laugh. ‘It’s a nice theory. But when you have sisters like mine you need a lot more to hold your own in the family. My sister, Leanne, is a top model, and Isabel, the oldest, is the new political wunderkind in Canberra.’

He nodded, recognising the names. ‘So you have a super-model and possibly Australia’s first woman prime minister in the family. So what?’

‘So the only way I can keep up is to get this job,’ she said, recognising the note of despair in her voice. ‘Haven’t you ever wanted something so much you could practically taste it?’

A tightness gripped his features. ‘You obviously know little about the Grand Prix circuit or you wouldn’t need to ask. The world championship is a heady prize, no matter how many times you win it. The point is, I went after it for my own reasons, not to prove my worth to anyone. Your worth as a person is a given, Sarah, not something you need to earn.’

She sighed. ‘Intellectually, I know you’re right. The problem is remembering it when I’m around my family.’

In the last few minutes she had told him more about herself than she usually told anyone, she thought with astonishment. It was just as well he spurned the headlines. He could have a field day with her confession if he chose. Instinctively, she knew he wouldn’t, but it didn’t stop her feeling embarrassed as she thought of how much of herself she had revealed to a man she barely knew.

Except that she did know him, she thought in amazement. Maybe there was some truth in the idea that there are no strangers in the world. Kitty believed that it was no accident who sat next to you in a crowd, that you had probably been close to them in an earlier life. Sarah wasn’t sure she agreed, although she was in no position to argue, but there was no denying that being with Luke felt oddly right—as if they did, indeed, have a long history behind them.

At the same time she realised he had revealed almost nothing significant about himself. ‘What do you do now you’re not racing?’ she asked.

He frowned. ‘Do I have to do anything? Of course—your yardstick for acceptability. Very well, I’m a consultant on computerised car design to several international companies.’

His answer felt like a rebuke, as he’d probably intended. She felt renewed stirrings of uncertainty. They saw life very differently. Was the attraction between them, however magnetic, enough of a counterbalance?

‘Yes,’ she said decisively, out loud.

The sea-dark eyes held hers until she had to fight a sensation like drowning. ‘Yes?’ he queried.

‘You asked me a question. The answer is yes.’

He chose to misunderstand. ‘Yes to what?’

Damn him. She felt another blush starting and fought it. ‘Yes, I’d like to repeat the experience,’ she said through clenched teeth. ‘Yes, I want to see you again. Are you satisfied?’

He took his time responding. ‘Not yet, but I’ve no doubt I will be. And so, my dear Sarah, will you. I’ll collect you from the studio after you finish work.’

She should have been annoyed at his assumption that she had no other man waiting for her. Instead she felt a disturbing sense of exhilaration at the thought of walking out of the studio to find him waiting.

Under the table she felt his knee nudge hers. It was a casual, almost accidental touch, but it sent a tremor all the way along her spine. She had a feeling tonight’s show was going to seem endless.