She released his shirt with a push, barely enough to move him. But Ryan took a step back anyway. And when he stared at her, his eyes glittered with a mix of shock and anger and, she could swear, a touch of admiration. Admiration that sent a thrill straight to her belly.
Strange yet familiar sexual sparks flared between them. Sparks that told her they’d had this argument before. Not this exact one, but this face-off. This sexually charged confrontation. She didn’t need memories to know the chemistry between them was combustible. She could feel it. Could feel it had always been combustible. But unlike arguments of the past, this one wouldn’t end in sweaty, sexy, passionate sex. She wouldn’t let it.
After everything she’d already been through, she wasn’t setting herself up to get burned again. Especially not by a man like Ryan Harrison.
She stepped past him and headed out into the backyard.
Chapter Eleven
“Don’t worry.” Mitch squeezed Kate’s knee as she leaned against the side of his desk in his home office. “They’re not going to freak out.”
She raised her brow and crossed her arms.
A sly smirk tugged at his mouth. “Okay, they’ll freak a little. But not that much.”
“I still don’t know why I have to be here,” Kate said.
“Moral support.” He picked up the phone and dialed. “I’ve had to deal with them by myself for five years. It’s time you started pulling your weight again.”
He swiveled away and began speaking into the phone.
Kate glanced at Ryan, who was leaning against the doorjamb. She wanted to be outside with Simone and the kids, not shut up in here with Ryan and Mitch. “Is he always this pushy?”
“Pretty much,” Ryan said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Did I used to like it?”
One side of his lips quirked up in a winsome smile. The first inkling of smile she’d seen on his face. “Not a bit. You pushed right back. Just like you did with me in the kitchen.”
She turned away from the way Ryan held her gaze, looked back to Mitch and tried to tamp down the thrill Ryan’s words sent through her body. Mitch was doing his best to explain the situation to his mother. A frown tugged at Kate’s mouth. “It doesn’t sound like it’s going well.”
“Mom,” Mitch said into the receiver, “I’m putting you on speaker.”
Kate’s eyes grew wide, and she nudged him with her knee and shook her head, but it didn’t stop him.
“Okay, Mom,” Mitch said, “we’re all here.”
The line was quiet. Then Kathy Mathews’s voice chirped through. “Is Ryan there?”
“I’m here, Kathy,” Ryan said, stepping into the room.
“Ryan, is he telling the truth, or is this one of his jokes? Because if he’s kidding on this one, he’s definitely out of the will. You got that, Mitch?”
Ryan glanced at Kate. “No, Kathy. He’s not kidding. She’s real.”
There was silence again. “Is…is she there?”
Kate glared at Mitch. Oh, he was in so much trouble for this. “I’m here, too. He’s not lying.”
The line seemed to go dead. Then they heard sobbing. Followed by Roger’s voice. Mitch picked up the handset, turned off the speakerphone, and patted Kate’s knee. He went through the story with his father a second time.
When Mitch hung up, he let out a deep breath. “They’re coming down tomorrow. I managed to convince them to give you a day instead of jumping on the first plane out of Sea-Tac.”
“Fabulous,” Kate muttered. “That was really sweet of you, by the way, throwing me under the bus like that. Remind me to return the favor.”
“You’ll feel better once you have some food. You always were a grump when your blood sugars dropped.” He pushed out of his chair and headed toward the kitchen.
Kate knew Ryan was still behind her. How, she wasn’t sure. She just sensed him. “How do you think they’re going to react to all of this when they get here?”
“They’ll be fine,” Ryan said. “They’re good people. I’d be sure Reed’s with you tomorrow when you see them, though. That’ll give you a buffer.”
“Good idea.” She looked his way. “Will you be there?”
“I think I’ll sit this one out. Mitch will be with you.”
She nodded. But why did that bother her?
“I guess this is the last big shocker for awhile,” she said quietly.
Ryan looked down at his feet. “Yeah, I guess so. I told my parents this morning. They’re coming down later in the week, but you don’t have to worry. They’ll want to see you, but they’re mostly coming down to see me and Julia, and to meet Reed.”
“Okay.” The whole conversation was just awkward. Meeting her parents, meeting her in-laws, it was bizarre. “Just let me know when they get here. I’ll bring Reed over.” She tried to read his thoughts. Couldn’t. Doubted she ever would. “Did they not like me?”
“What?”
“Your parents, did they not like me? It doesn’t sound like they’re overjoyed at the thought of seeing me again. Not like Mitch’s parents.” She frowned. “My parents.” It was still a hard idea to get used to. She actually had parents.
“Yeah, they liked you.” His voice turned soft, the tenderness in it tugging on her. “They loved you.” He shook his head. “They know this is awkward for me, for us. They don’t want to make you any more uncomfortable than you already are.”
No matter what anyone did or didn’t do, it was still uncomfortable. She didn’t know what to say in response. She desperately wanted to do something to make this better, though.
“Come on,” he said, breaking the silence before she could. “Let’s go get some food and see what the kids are doing.”
Thankful for the distraction, she followed him out into the kitchen, vaguely aware he was trying to keep the sarcasm and anger out of his voice. Since their moment in the kitchen, he’d been trying a lot harder to treat her with some sense of compassion, or at least with a little less hostility.
When they walked into the room, Mitch and Simone were working in the kitchen together, getting hamburger fixings ready to go, while Julia and Shannon set out chips and condiments. The girls had already struck up a fierce friendship. Reed just ran around getting in the way, like he was a regular fixture in the group. They looked normal. Like two families hanging out for a backyard barbecue.
It was only when you looked closer you saw it was just one giant mess.
The flickering lights of the TV in the corner of the room caught Kate’s attention. No one seemed to be noticing it, so she moved to turn it off, but her hand paused on the power button when the reporter mention Ryan’s name. Then her face flashed on the screen. And she sucked in a gasp.
Ryan stepped up next to her. The reporter was standing outside Ryan’s downtown office building.
“Channel Two News has recently learned that pharmaceutical giant Ryan Harrison, whose wife died aboard U.S. Airlines flight 1466 which crashed shortly after takeoff from San Francisco five years ago, received shocking news earlier this week. His wife may still be alive.
“Sources confirm this woman, Kate Alexander, agreed to undergo DNA testing to verify suspicions she is Harrison’s estranged wife. A source close to Ms. Alexander also confirms she suffers from a rare form of amnesia, which has blocked out virtually all of her long-term memory, making this discovery even more amazing.
“Harrison, shown here in video from the Governor’s Ball last winter, and his lawyers are not commenting at this time, but sources do tell us it is highly likely Ms. Alexander is in fact Anne Harrison. Ryan Harrison, CEO of AmCorp Pharmaceuticals, has very rarely spoken publicly about his deceased wife. His company has been involved in several questionable take-over mergers lately…”
“Fucking press.” Ryan flipped off the TV and headed for Mitch’s office.
Kate sank down onto the couch and covered her face. With trembling fingers she tried to rub away the headache already pounding away at her brai
n. As if things weren’t bad enough, now the story was all over the news.
Simone ushered the kids outside and sat next to her. Mitch followed Ryan into the office.
“Talk to me, Counselor,” Kate said.
“Well, I want to hear what Ryan’s PR people have to say, but I’m thinking you’re both going to have to make a public statement. It’s the only way we’re going to get the press off your backs. Odds are good they’re at your house right now, and at Ryan’s. I think you lucked out today by being here. As of yet, they haven’t found you, but they will.”
“Fabulous.”
She pushed off the couch and walked into Mitch’s office. Ryan was pacing with the phone pressed to his ear. Mitch stood in the corner of the room listening, his hands on his hips.
A chill spread over Kate. Ryan had definitely been frustrated and angry with her before, but this was different. His voice was icy, his face hard and rigid, and whomever he was talking to—and she assumed it was one of his lawyers—was taking the brunt of his fury.
“I don’t give a damn what they want,” he said into the phone. “My personal life is my own fucking business. I’ve never commented on it before. I’m sure as hell not going to start now.”
Kate listened to his end of the conversation, not feeling any better judging by the number of times Ryan swore. When he was done, he tossed the cordless phone on the desk, dropped into Mitch’s leather chair, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes. “What do you want to do?”
The question was meant for her. Kate looked to Simone, then back at Ryan’s hard face. “If we ignore it?”
“They’ll hound us until we break.”
Kate caught Simone’s nod of agreement. “So we face them head on.”
He met her gaze with steely eyes. “I don’t want my personal life strewn across the front page of the National Star.”
“Ryan,” Simone interjected for the first time, “I don’t think you have a choice in the matter right now. Either we give them something to print, or they’re going to do their damnedest to make up something much worse. I realize your need for privacy, but it’s the lesser of two evils we’re concerned with now.”
Ryan turned his icy gaze on Simone. “I hate the fucking press.”
She smiled at the confrontation. “I’m sure they feel the same way about you.”
Simone slipped an arm around Kate’s waist. “I think we need to go over our game plan. We make it clear the children are off limits. You make a joint statement, act like you’re on civil speaking terms” —she shot a speculative glance at Ryan— “then answer a few brief questions. The whole thing will be over in a few minutes.”
Ryan let out a huff.
“And you, Mr. Multimillionaire,” Simone said. “You’ll be polite and courteous. The press will tear Kate to shreds if you’re an ass to them. I know it’s worked for you in the past, but this time you have other people to think about. This time, the press isn’t interested in your business. They’re interested in your family. It’s a whole new ball game.”
***
Not even a torrential downpour could keep the press away. Kate glanced out the window of the penthouse suite in the Hawthorn Hotel at the sheets of rain slamming the city. Dark and gray, much like her mood, no end in sight to the depressing day.
Turning away from the rain, she tried to refocus on what was about to happen, but every time she looked at Ryan, she was startled by the image he created. Surrounded by a group of men and one woman, he looked every bit the power player he was. He wore an expensive navy suit with a crisp white shirt and blue-checked tie, and somehow, dressed like that, in this environment, she could easily see why people were so intimidated by him.
She wished Simone was with her but she’d already gone downstairs to herd the press. While Ryan continued to ignore her and talk to his team instead, Kate’s anxiety amped. She’d seen how angry he was yesterday when the story had broken, but he had to know this wasn’t a normal event for her. Would a little humanity right now be too much to ask from the man?
A member of Ryan’s team peeked his head in the door. “It’s time, Mr. Harrison.”
Kate’s stomach fluttered. Here we go. She dropped her arms, straightened her jacket, all the while wondering how the hell her life had gotten so complicated. Before she could take a step toward the door, the lone woman in Ryan’s group approached her.
“Ms. Alexander, I’m Hannah Hughes, Vice President of Public Relations for AmCorp. Ryan’s brought me up to speed. I realize this is probably a lot to deal with right now and if there’s anything AmCorp can do to make you more comfortable, please let us know.”
Kate was about to respond when Hannah stepped past her and out into the hallway with the rest of Ryan’s team. Okay, so much for chitchat. That felt scripted.
Kate turned when Ryan walked up beside her.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded and swallowed the growing lump in her throat.
He stayed next to her as they walked down the hallway, the expression on his face blank and emotionless. For the first time since she’d met him, Kate wished desperately he’d say something, anything to her. Even yelling at her was better than this.
They rode the elevator in silence. No one—not a single member of his team—spoke. When the elevator pinged and the door opened, though, they were instantly swarmed by the press, by cameras flashing and reporters hollering questions. Ryan reached for her elbow and guided her into the conference room. TV cameras were shoved in their faces, blinding lights and microphones. For the first time, Kate caught a glimpse of Ryan’s public image, of how frustrating it must be to be in the spotlight. She didn’t like it. And she didn’t want it.
At the far end of the room sat a long table and a podium with a bank of microphones. Ryan’s team of lawyers filtered to the mikes where Simone was already waiting. Kate and Ryan stepped up behind them.
Simone leaned over. “You okay?”
Kate nodded, though what she really wanted to do was throw up.
Hannah Hughes spoke first, bringing a hush over the fifty or so reporters gathered in the room. “Good morning,” she said in a firm and confident voice. “I’m Hannah Hughes, Vice President of Public Relations for AmCorp. I’d like to lay some ground rules before we get started. Mr. Harrison and Ms. Alexander have asked me to read a statement, during which we request you refrain from asking questions. Afterwards, Mr. Harrison and Ms. Alexander will open the floor up for a brief question-and-answer session.”
She slipped on her glasses and glanced down at the prepared statement. “Five years ago, Mr. Harrison’s wife of seven years, seismologist Anne Harrison, boarded flight 1466 bound for Denver, Colorado.” What followed was a vague description of the events that brought them together.
Hannah didn’t seem to miss a beat as she read through the statement. She kept right on going, her gaze steady across the sea of reporters, never looking at any one person for very long, never showing a hint of emotion. The reporters listened intently, jotting notes and focusing on her words. Hannah glanced up when she finished, then stepped back and let Kate and Ryan approach the mike. Nervous tension ran through Kate, but she did her best to smile when the cameras turned on her.
“Good morning,” Ryan said. “If we’d have known there was going to be a three-ring circus here today, we’d have booked a clown for the festivities.” He flashed a mesmerizing smile—one Kate had never seen before—and several people in the audience laughed.
“Unfortunately,” he went on, his face hardening, “this situation is anything but a laughing matter. I don’t think I need to tell you that we’re just as shocked by recent developments as you are. Upon completion of this press conference, neither Ms. Alexander nor myself will be answering questions regarding our personal lives. I’d appreciate your cooperation in this, and request that you give us the space we need to deal with this situation on our own.”
As soon as he paused, a wave of arms shot into the air, followed by voices tr
ying to be heard. Ryan pointed to one reporter and waited. “Can you tell us who recognized Ms. Alexander?” the man asked.
“Yes. Simone Conners, a lawyer here in the city.”
“Ms. Alexander,” another reporter asked, “can you explain how your memory has been affected since your accident?”
“I can try,” Kate said with a smile. “I’m not able to remember anything before waking up from that coma. My memory basically started eighteen months ago.”
Hands went up all over the room, and Kate pointed to a young female with red hair. “Ms. Alexander, how did you end up in Houston?”
“If I had the answer to that question we wouldn’t be standing here right now, would we?” She smiled and called on another reporter.
“Ms. Alexander,” a bald man with thick glasses asked, “did you recognize Mr. Harrison when you saw him?”
“No. I’ve seen plenty of pictures of Mr. Harrison, his reputation is legendary, but I never recognized him.”
“Ms. Alexander,” another reporter asked with a smile. “What do you think of Mr. Harrison’s renowned and somewhat ruthless reputation?”
For reasons she’d never understand, the press seemed to be focusing in on her. Kate tried to keep a calm outward appearance, but inside her stomach flopped all over the place like a fish out of water. Working for a smile, she said, “Mr. Harrison appears to be a shrewd business man, but I assure you he’s human just like everyone else.”
Her response garnered a wave of laughter from the crowd and raised brows from Ryan.
Kate pointed to another man. “Mr. Harrison,” this one asked, “how does it feel to see your wife again after five years and not have her recognize you?”
Ryan ignored the question, pointing instead to a young blonde in the front row. Kate shifted her feet, recognizing the tension pulsing from Ryan.
“Ms. Alexander,” the female reporter asked. “What are your intentions at this point?”
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