by Nan Ryan
Kay knew it was hopeless.
Sullivan’s jaw tightened. “Good luck, Kay,” he said, turned away and hurried out of the production studios.
Her heart breaking, Kay followed him from the room and left the station.
Sullivan went directly to his office, closed the door and walked to the chinning bar. Shortly after three in the afternoon, after several sessions of his incessant chinning and two showers, and with another headache starting behind her eyes, Janelle Davis knocked on Sullivan’s door.
Not waiting for an answer, she stepped inside, closed the door and leaned back, her arms folded across her chest. Sullivan, shirtless, perspiration glistening on his shoulders and in his hair, lowered himself to the floor.
“She leaves on United’s 7:00 p.m. flight for New York.” Janelle looked straight into his eyes. Sullivan said nothing. “I checked,” Janelle continued, “there’s seats available.” She smiled at the silent Sullivan, turned and left without another word.
Eleven
Kay, looking cool and sophisticated in a well-tailored suit of cream wool, brown silk blouse with its mandarin collar fitted tightly around her long, elegant neck, silver hair plaited into a thick coil and pinned atop her head, stepped into the first-class cabin of the New-York-bound jetliner.
Smiling absently to the stewardess who took her ticket, Kay located seat 3A and took the four steps down the aisle toward it, glancing around at the few passengers already seated. A middle-aged couple sat in the front two seats, the woman already reaching inside a big, floppy bag to pull out her knitting. Behind them, two tired-looking businessmen, one already dozing, held briefcases on their laps.
In the last row of seats, a pair of long legs encased in gray flannel slacks was crossed beneath a copy of the Wall Street Journal, which covered the face of its absorbed reader.
Kay took her window seat, buckled the belt tightly and fought the foolish fear already clawing at her stomach. Heartache was temporarily forgotten as passengers boarded, the front door was locked and Kay felt the movement of the big plane beginning to taxi out toward the runway. Palms perspiring, heart fluttering, Kay paid no attention to the stewardess’s canned speech.
Checking one last time to be certain that her seat belt was as tight as she could get it, Kay licked dry lips and gripped the armrests as the big jet turned onto the runway and she felt the dreadful roar of the powerful engines drowning out all other sound.
Eyes wide with fright, Kay looked out the tiny window, her small body tensed, her fingers curling over the chair arms in a death grip. Just as the heavy plane began to speed ever faster down the runway, evenly spaced blue ground lights sliding past the window so rapidly they were becoming a blur, Kay’s head snapped around.
A lean brown hand gently covered a white-knuckled one upon the armrest and Sullivan Ward buckled his seat belt with his other hand. Kay blinked at him in confusion that changed almost immediately to relief.
“I seem to recall you being a little nervous on the takeoff.” His deep, soothing voice had never sounded more wonderful to Kay. Sullivan plucked tight little fingers up from the chair arm, bringing her cold, stiff hand up to the warmth of his sweatered chest. Both his hands closed over hers and when she swallowed and tried to speak, Sullivan leaned close and said, smiling understandingly, “Darling, wait until we’re up, then we’ll say it all.” Dark eyes caressed her and he added, “You’re safe, sweetheart. I’m here with you. Everything will be fine.”
A soft little gasp escaped Kay’s parted lips. Blue eyes thanking him, Kay leaned her grateful head on his shoulder, took a deep breath and heard the captain saying from the cockpit, “On the climb out, you can see the lights of the Mile High City twinkling up at you just as we skim the very peaks of the Rockies rising to a height of fourteen thousand feet above sea level.”
Kay smiled. She made no move to look out her window at the lights the captain spoke of. She looked instead into the shining dark eyes of the man clinging to her hand.
Sullivan was smiling down at her and Kay felt her fear of flying evaporate. If she remained a little short of breath, it no longer had anything to do with fear. It was pure, unexpected happiness.
“The captain has turned off the seat-belt signs,” the voice over the intercom said, “you may now feel free to move around the cabin, but for your safety…”
Sullivan squeezed Kay’s hand and said, “I suppose you’d like to know what I’m doing here.”
Kay said honestly, “Yes, but whatever your reason, I’m glad you’re here.”
“You’re sweet, and that will make it easier to say what I have on my mind.” Sullivan nodded yes when the stewardess asked if they’d like a drink. “Champagne,” he ordered for them both. Then he turned back to Kay and said, “Promise me that when you’ve heard me out, you’ll give me a truly honest answer.”
Brilliant blue eyes were wide. “I will,” she told him and meant it.
“Kay, I love you. I want you to stay with me, but only if you’re sure that you’d never regret it.”
“Sul, the only thing I’d ever regret is losing you again. Don’t you know that?”
“Then why are you at this moment bound for New York?”
“Because,” she admitted, “I suppose I’m almost as stubborn as you.”
“Kay, you’re very sweet, but are you certain you don’t really want the job in New York?” His eyes held a warmth and understanding she found achingly appealing. “I mean, believe it or not, darling, I love you enough that I want you to have—”
Kay interrupted. “Sul, you must believe me. I don’t want the job in New York. I want nothing but to be your partner on the air in Denver.”
“That’s all you want? Sure?”
“Positive,” she assured him.
“You don’t think a year from now you’ll wish you’d—”
“Never.”
A broad grin lifted the corners of Sullivan’s lips. “In that case, I’ve a suite reserved at the Hotel Pierre on the park. What would you say to a honeymoon in the Big Apple?”
Kay stared at him, speechless. Sullivan laughed and teased, “Does that mean yes or no, sweetheart?”
“Sul,” she whispered breathlessly, “are you serious? How could we…I don’t see how…”
“Kay, after this miserable week I knew I couldn’t live without you; don’t want to, refuse. That decided, I knew I’d have to swallow all my pride and come after you. Here I am, darling. I want you, I want to marry you this week in New York and spend a honeymoon with you at the Pierre. I told Sam Shults we needed a week off. He agreed. Now it’s up to you.”
“The answer is yes!”
Sullivan laughed. “You don’t want to think about it for a day or two?”
“Sul, you’ve told me what you want; know what I want?”
“Tell me, sweet.”
“I want to marry you just as soon as it is legally possible. I want us to spend an entire week inside that suite at the Pierre. I want to be on the morning show at Q102 in Denver with you as my partner for the next twenty years. I want to have your babies and—”
“Sweetheart—” Sullivan leaned closer “—would you be terribly embarrassed if I kissed you right now?”
Kay’s answer was to turn parted lips up to his. Sullivan, his dark eyes filled with love, lowered his mouth to within one inch of hers and murmured, “Kiss me like there’s no one else here.”
“Is there?” she breathed and felt the sculpted male lips gently fit over hers. Kay’s left hand came up from her lap to go behind his head and pull him closer. Her mouth opened beneath his and her tongue drew a heated line along his lips. Sullivan’s mouth opened wider and his kiss deepened as he softly moaned.
Forgetting entirely where they were, Sullivan kissed her with rapidly increasing intensity and Kay clung to him and returned his ardor. The deep, drugging kiss was interrupted by the stewardess, clearing her throat just above them.
Sullivan reluctantly lifted his head, his black eyes still
on the soft, parted lips he’d been kissing. Kay looked guiltily up at the red-faced stewardess and said, “I’m sorry, you see—”
“You see—” Sullivan grinned and accepted the stemmed glasses of champagne from the stewardess “—this woman has just agreed to become my bride and I felt that warranted a little kiss.”
“I wholeheartedly agree.” The stewardess nodded. “And may I offer congratulations.” She flashed Kay a smile and made her way on down the aisle.
“Sul?”
“Hmm?”
“Will you kiss me again?” Kay took a sip of bubbly champagne.
“No, sorry.” He lifted his glass to his lips.
“No?”
“You know what your sweet kisses do to me.”
“Sul?”
“Yes?”
“Have you any idea how much I love you?”
“If it’s half as much as I love you, I’m satisfied.
Kay’s sleepy eyes slitted open. Disoriented, she looked out the tall window across from where she lay. Cold rain streaked down the panes. Kay slowly turned her head.
A handsome face was smiling warmly just above hers. Dark, sultry eyes were looking down at her. Sullivan pushed a shock of tangled hair back off her cheek and said in a low, warm voice, “My sweet, beautiful wife.”
Kay lifted a slender hand to his jaw and started to speak. He stopped her. “Kay.” Sullivan brushed his lips to hers. “I know you don’t like to talk when you first waken. Doesn’t matter. I love you and conversation is not what I want anyhow.”
Kay smiled at him and murmured, “Good morning, husband,” and lifted her head for his kiss.
Sullivan shuddered. He pulled her bare body closer to the warmth of his and whispered huskily into her ear, “I had all kinds of things planned for today. You know, the museums and galleries and the Statue of Liberty, but damned if it’s not raining.” He began to nuzzle the softness just under her ear.
Kay sighed happily, wrapped her arms around his broad, bare back and closed her eyes. “I’m terribly disappointed. Think you can find some way to amuse me?”
Sullivan opened his lips and nibbled a path down the side of her warm, fragrant throat. “I’ll need your help.” His voice was growing heavy with desire.
“You have it, my love.” She turned her face toward his.
Sullivan lifted his head, looked for a long, loving minute into his new bride’s beautiful blue eyes, groaned and took her mouth with his. He kissed her passionately, devouringly, and Kay sighed into his mouth and felt her naked body being pressed closely to the long, lean body of her husband.
When finally Sullivan lifted his dark head, Kay looked into his eyes and said, “Promise me something, Sul.”
“Anything,” he murmured.
“You won’t make me go see any museums or galleries or Broadway shows on this trip.”
Heart hammering in his chest, Sullivan said happily, “Baby, that I promise.” His mouth came back down on hers. Blood heated, hearts sped, bare bodies molded to each other.
Sullivan and Kay Ward, the hottest morning radio team of Denver, Colorado, enjoyed total anonymity in New York City. They could have gone wherever they chose and no one would have recognized or bothered them.
However, they took no chances. While cold winter rains drenched the huge, teeming city, the newlyweds stayed safely ensconced in their suite. Room service provided all meals.
Kay, who’d never before been to the city, smiled and stretched lazily in their big rumpled bed and had not the slightest curiosity about the sights spreading out below their top-floor suite. All she wanted was in this room with her.
Kay clasped her husband to her, bit his ear playfully and said, “You know something, Sul?”
“What?”
“Someday we’ll have to come back to New York and look around.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, kissing her throat, “we’ll have to do that.”
More from Nan Ryan
C.C.'s Daughter
C.C. McCarthy had a gift. His beautiful singing voice captivated the women who heard it, including Valentina Trent, owner of Bluebonnet Records. But when C.C. turned down Valentina’s offer of a contract—and herself—he had no idea that he’d ignited a feud that would outlive both his career and his life.
Years later, Laura McCarthy has just lost her beloved father, C.C., to drugs. Devastated by his death, she finds herself on a wayward path that steals her innocence and shatters her illusions. But with steadfast determination and her father’s memory to give her strength, Laura vows to overcome the shadows of C.C.’s mistakes and restore his legend, against all odds.
Love in the Air
Kay Clark and Sullivan Ward were once the hottest radio duo in the city. But when Kay left Denver—and Sullivan—to continue her career in Los Angeles, their romance wilted before it ever had its chance to fully bloom.
Now, five years later, Kay is back and though she’s changed, her feelings for Sullivan haven’t. As they take the air together once again, an old flame sparks anew and blazes hotter than ever—on and off the air.
The Last Dance
Lucy Hart sets out on an adventure. On the verge of spinsterhood, she is determined to venture out of her world of comfort and responsibility, and to make lasting memories in the fading glory of Atlantic City.
Blackie LaDuke has had enough adventure. In Atlantic City, looking to escape New York City—and matrimonial—heat, he is instantly intrigued by the prim Lucy.
Soon, an unlikely friendship blossoms and before long, Blackie finds himself wanting to be the man worthy of Lucy’s affection. Hoping to leave their old lives behind, can Lucy and Blackie start a new one together?
Wanting You
Anna Regent Wright, the long-lost Regent heiress, has finally returned. With no memories of her life before being captured by the Apaches, she is suddenly given a name and a past, and thrust into a new world that holds a future beyond her wildest dreams.
Brit Caruth is positive that Anna is an imposter, and he’s determined to prove it before Anna inherits the fortune that is supposed to be his. But his attraction to the beautiful stranger is undeniable, and as love blooms, resentment fades.
But when the truth finally does out, whose future will it put in jeopardy?
Wayward Lady
When her fiancé is killed, Suzette Foxworth is left devastated, but not alone. It is Austin Brand, a rich and powerful rancher, who takes her as his wife and secures her future. Though their marriage is one of kindness and security, it lacks the passion Suzette yearns for.
It isn’t until Suzette is taken captive by the bandit Kaytano, long-time enemy of Austin, does she feel the spark of heat her longing heart had been missing. Before long, Suzette willingly becomes Kaytano’s prisoner of love, with no desire to ever be freed from the shackles of his embrace.
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