Asher pressed a kiss to her wrist. “Nervous, Ms. Stamper?”
Before Riley could answer, she heard a woman’s voice cry out Asher’s name. She and Asher stood to greet the handsome couple approaching them in the quiet upstate bistro where they were meeting for dinner. Seconds later, she was being introduced to Jones and Cassell Hudson.
“I’m sure meeting me is very sudden for you both.” Riley decided to bite the bullet once the elder Hudsons had lavished compliments on her, telling her how lovely she was.
“Nonsense,” Cassell scoffed while they took their places at the table. “I’m eager to meet anyone who can get my son to visit her more than once every other year.”
“Especially when she’s as beautiful as you are and we see our son so smitten,” Jones added.
“So how long will it be until you ask her to marry you, Asher?” Cassell inquired while coolly reaching for the drink menu.
Riley would have choked had she been eating. Genuine laughter scrambled up her throat as she looked to Asher for encouragement. The choking sensation overwhelmed her again when she saw nothing but seriousness in his eyes.
“Asher, why didn’t you correct them?”
“About?”
“Marriage, Asher,” she ranted while they stood in the corridor outside her loft.
Asher, however, was too interested in unbuttoning Riley’s coat to give much explanation. “I just made my mother’s whole year,” he said when she slapped his shoulder. “Any kid worth a damn lives for that.”
“Even if it’s not true?”
Asher’s jaw clenched. “Isn’t it?” With effort, he managed to keep his voice soft.
For what had to be the tenth time that night, Riley felt the need to laugh. “Have you lost your mind? You hardly know me.”
“I know enough.”
Riley bristled, trying to dismiss the tingle when his fingers grazed her breasts. “There’s more to this than physical attraction.”
“Damn right, but it’s the part I’m having the most fun with just now.” With those words, he held her against the wall next to her door and nuzzled her neck.
“What am I doing?” Riley sighed.
“You’re falling in love with me,” he growled close to her ear.
“And what are you doing?”
“Falling right back.”
He kissed her deeply then, and she didn’t even notice when he took her key and urged her past the doorway to the loft.
Chapter 7
Riley added more lemon to her tea and savored the warmth coursing through her body. Frosted air rushing from the vents made the treat utterly enjoyable even at the height of summer.
She’d told herself she was out of her mind visiting Phoenix in July but accepted that the time of year was of no consequence. Besides, somehow she and Asher had braved the storminess their unorthodox relationship had created. They’d become a media sensation almost overnight. Once word got out about the relationship between the columnist and the sports agent, Riley and Asher’s celebrity status had rocketed to new heights.
The media apparently loved them. An article on the Stamper/Hudson romance was a sure bet for high sales. Everyone marveled at their long-distance relationship, which had survived almost a year, with love and passion intact.
Riley couldn’t imagine her life without him in it. She found herself thanking God daily that Asher had bulldozed his way into her life and forced her to grab on to what she wanted without concern for the unexpected.
They were having a wonderful visit, but there was no surprise there. If she wasn’t in Phoenix, he was in New York. Mini-vacations with the man she loved had done wonders for her body and soul.
The present visit was a perfect example. They’d been thoroughly enjoying one another and making lots of love. It’d been one wonderful experience after another. Still, Riley had to acknowledge that there was something different this time. His desire for her hadn’t cooled a bit, she mused, studying the tangled covers of the king-size bed across the spacious room. However, he was in a strange mood, and she couldn’t figure out the best way to coax him out of it.
She’d gotten up a bit earlier that morning and decided to eat alone to ponder that very thing. Part of her wondered if her insecurities were rearing their ugly heads. Was she overreacting? She was finishing up her light breakfast when he found her in the sunroom.
“What’s wrong?” were his first words to her.
Riley shrugged. “Just wanted to get an early start.”
“What for?”
“I was hungry.”
Asher cast a skeptical look at the half-eaten toast and the corner of a beef sausage patty on her tiny plate. “Obviously.”
Deciding to bite the bullet, Riley pushed back from the table. “I’m trying to figure out how to do something.”
“Mmm…” Asher’s attention was focused on fastening his shirt cuffs.
“Wondering how to ask about this mood of yours.”
She had his attention then. Asher finished with the cuffs and frowned her way.
“Mood?”
“Mmm…”
“Why do you believe I’m in a mood?”
She detected that dangerous tone in his voice and could tell she’d grazed a nerve. Good. She’d get him to be honest with her far more quickly if he was angry rather than calm.
“Just a feeling. You’ve seemed kind of distant.” She cleared her throat when he came to tower over her.
“Distant?” He toyed with the clipped locks of her hair, loving the way the new hairstyle flattered her lovely face. “Distant,” he repeated, trailing a lone finger across her collarbone. “And how many times have we been together since you got here? I’ve lost count.” He sighed, bringing a hand to his jaw, as though he were trying to recall.
Riley pursed her lips at his sarcasm.
He leaned close, dipping his head to hers. “Sorry, but I can’t remember. All I can lock in on is that this is the first day I’ve put on clothes since you’ve been here.”
“All right. Look—” she jerked away from him “—it’s clear you’re in a mood, so don’t even try to act like I’m imagining things here.”
“Dammit, maybe I’m tired of having to plot schedules and meetings to see you.” He finally lost his temper. “Maybe I’m tired of having to book a flight to see my girlfriend.” He raked a hand over his neck and turned away. “Hell, maybe I’m tired of you being my girlfriend,” he muttered.
Riley heard him as clear as if he’d said the words through a bullhorn. The chime of his cellular phone caused a break in the conversation.
Devastated, Riley shuffled to the rear of the sunroom and stared unseeingly at the beautiful expanse at the rear of the estate. She blinked tears away and put anger in their place. She had seen it coming, after all. It’d been fun while it lasted, and she certainly couldn’t blame him because she’d gone and let herself fall in love with him while he’d been planning to end things. Is that what had been happening during all the time they’d spent together? When had it stopped being about fun and lust and become true emotion?
She had a nagging feeling that she was misjudging him yet again, but she wouldn’t let herself dwell on the fact that his feelings could be even the tiniest bit similar to hers. Especially when she could be wrong. Especially when she was probably very wrong.
“Baby, I gotta go,” Asher said as he shut the phone and shoved it in his trouser pocket. As though nothing had happened between them, he pulled her against him and pressed a lingering kiss to the crook of her neck.
Jerkily, Riley turned to watch him sprint for the door. Her mouth fell open when he had the nerve to send her a wink before he disappeared.
“And he left, just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“And there’s no way you misunderstood what he said?” Misha asked.
Riley flexed her fingers around the phone receiver. “I heard him, Misha.”
“Honey, it’s been almost a year. The man
is obsessed with you. I think he loves you.”
“That’s what I thought—what I hoped.”
“Riley…” Misha could hear despair in her voice. “Honey, why do you do this to yourself?”
Riley closed her eyes in hopes of warding off the demons of insecurity that had plagued her since childhood. This time, however, it was much worse. This time the insecurity was causing her to ruin things with the man she was falling in love with.
“Riley—”
“No, Misha. I need to get back, anyway. I can imagine what my desk looks like.”
Misha sucked her teeth. “Vic and the crew have it all under control.”
Riley tossed a few more articles into the suitcase lying open on the bed. “I need to get out of here, honestly. All this heat’s starting to fry my brain.”
“You’re hurting.”
“As long as I stay here.” Riley held the phone in the crook of her neck and quickly tossed more items into the suitcase. “I’m sure my crew left me enough work to dig into.”
“Well, Bastian won the sports writers award this year. You know how many years he’s been drooling over it.” Misha was referring to Bastian Grovers, one of the New Chronicle’s senior writers. “Maybe you could cover his acceptance and give yourself a change of pace.”
Riley was satisfied. “Sounds like a plan.”
“The time away should help you see how rash you’re being.”
The connection ended before Riley could argue with her best friend.
“What the hell?” Asher whispered when his Pathfinder rounded the curve in the driveway. He spotted one of his limos parked before the front door, trunk open and suitcases waiting to be loaded. “Riley…” He sighed.
After parking the SUV haphazardly on the grass, he hopped out and met Riley as she was coming down the front steps.
“What are you doing?” he asked, out of breath and wearing a look of fearful disbelief.
She fidgeted with the gold chain at her neck. “There’s a story. I need to—”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Not all of it.”
She blinked, unable to hide the guilt in her eyes. She was beginning to see why he was so good at his job. “It’s enough.”
He caught her arm when she tried to pass. “Why are you doing this?”
“I’m in your way here.”
Asher almost laughed, while casting a fleeting glance toward his home. “You’re gonna have to do a lot better than that.”
She tried to wrench away from him. “You know what I mean.”
“’Fraid I don’t.”
“‘Maybe I’m tired of you being my girlfriend.’ Sound familiar?”
His light eyes confessed all as memories of their conversation earlier that day filtered through his brain. He ran a hand across his neck. “I’ve never been so misjudged by anyone in my life—even when I’ve deserved it.”
He’d released her arm, but Riley didn’t bolt. “You’re trying to tell me I’m wrong?”
“Very,” he said on a weary laugh. “I don’t want you to leave.” He never wanted her to leave.
She’d prepared herself to hear anything but that.
“I love you,” he whispered.
Correction. She’d prepared herself to hear anything but that.
“You don’t know what you’re saying.” Her brown eyes were saucer wide as she stood before him and shook her head.
Her complete confidence in his ignorance stoked his frustration like a poker to a dying flame. Riley could see it in his eyes but steeled herself against believing that his feelings had truly turned down the road hers had taken long ago.
Asher took a moment to calm himself. “What’s going on here, Riley? The truth.”
“I’m just waiting for the bubble to burst and for you to tell me that this is over.”
“Is that what you want?”
She was suddenly cold beneath the light cotton fabric of the petal-pink blouse she wore. “It could be for the best. We’ve been at this longer than either of us expected. You said it yourself that you were tired of booking flights to see your girlfriend.”
“That was an expression, Riley, dammit.” He felt the extreme urge to shake her then. “Hell, Riley, when I want to see you, I can hop on my own damn plane. I don’t want you to go. But I won’t force you.”
She managed to move past him at last. “I’ll call when I get back.”
“Riley, please—”
“I promise I’ll call.” She pressed her hand to his chest, relishing the warmth and power there.
“So, it’s that easy for you to walk away from me?” he snapped.
Riley curled her fingers into the front of his shirt. “It’s not easy for me at all.”
“Be honest, Riley. It’s you who doesn’t want this.”
“No! No. Asher, I love you.”
“Prove it.”
“What?”
“Marry me.”
Riley was blinking so rapidly, it was a wonder one of the long lashes didn’t wind up in her eye. “You said you were tired of me being your girlfriend.” She sounded lost.
He shook his head at her bewilderment. “Because I want you for my wife.”
“But…why?”
“You mean, aside from the fact that I love you?”
“You don’t know what you’re saying…You can’t.”
His jaw clenched. “I do.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Asher, we wouldn’t even be living under the same roof.”
“And?”
Her heart lurched. “You’re crazy.”
He smiled, looking down at the ground. That was quite possibly true, but during the time they’d been seeing each other, she had banished more than a few of his ghosts. Part of him prayed that as his wife, she would silence the rest. He believed that she loved him, but in the end, the decision would have to be hers. She would have to come to him as he’d come to her.
“You know, Riley, you’re probably right…Having a wife I hardly see is sure to be ten times worse than having a girlfriend I don’t see.”
Stunned, Riley let him escort her to the limo. “But—”
“Call me soon, okay?” he asked softly, brushing the back of his hand across her jaw while she looked up at him in dumbfounded amazement.
“Asher—”
“No, Riley, you’re right. Took me a while to finally admit that, I guess.” He shrugged and favored her with a crooked grin. “I’ve never been one to admit when somethin’ was a lost cause.” Asher nodded to the driver, who’d finished loading Riley’s things in the trunk.
Riley felt her heart sinking with every word he uttered.
He leaned inside the limo and kissed her cheek. “Take care of yourself, all right?”
Riley just blinked. Asher closed the door and knocked on the roof of the car to instruct the chauffer to drive on.
Riley was halfway to the airport when her shock subsided and tears filled her eyes.
Chapter 8
The annual New York Sports Writers and Editors Association banquet was held on a rainy Saturday evening. Luckily for Riley and Misha, the blinding rainstorm began an hour after the event began. Consequently, the duo was able to preserve their dazzling hairstyles and party in style on the top floor of the five-star Shallot’s Tavern.
“Then he just told me to go.”
“Just like that?”
“Mmm-hmm…”
Misha smiled and accepted a fresh drink from the bartender. “Disappointed you, huh?”
Riley stopped toying with the lock of her hair and let her hand fall to her shoulder. “Disappointed?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Not disappointed. Surprised.”
Misha sipped and savored her potent margarita. “Surprised, huh?”
“Yes, Misha, surprised,” Riley groaned, losing her taste for the beer she’d requested. “One minute he’s proposing, and the next
he’s bidding me a safe return to New York.”
“Yeah…” Misha dangled her pump-shod foot. “I guess you were surprised and…devastated when the man you love called your bluff and told you to go.”
Misha was right, and she sauntered off before Riley could tell her so. No matter, because moments later one of the evening’s honorees was offering to buy her a drink.
“So I guess I can assume you already have the spot picked out for your award?” Riley was asking as she and Bastian twirled around the crowded dance floor.
He was already nodding. “Polished, with a big spotlight over the top.”
Riley laughed. “Congratulations. Seriously, Bastian, I know how long you’ve wanted this.”
“Just make sure this story of yours makes me look better than I already do.”
Riley scrunched her face into a skeptical expression. “You know, my column’s known for wiping the floor with folks.”
“Ever thought of changing your pace?”
While she playfully contemplated the suggestion, the smile Bastian wore grew brighter, and moments later he released Riley’s hand and slipped his hand from around her waist.
“Congratulations, man,” a male voice said.
Everything flew from Riley’s head as she stared up at Asher. Dressed in a beautifully tailored tuxedo, he was even more dashing than usual. She was rooted to her spot while he and Bastian carried on a light conversation. She was still in an absent state of mind when Bastian placed her hand in Asher’s.
“Sorry about this,” Asher said after Bastian left them alone to dance.
Riley snapped to at last. “It’s not a problem, really.”
His smirk was a mix of humor and something…almost dangerous. “Maybe not a problem for you, but I don’t think Grovers would agree.”
“Bastian? We didn’t come together, Asher.”
“I wasn’t prying.”
She was already shaking her head, suddenly feeling desperate to explain. “It’s not like that between—”
“I wanted to apologize.” There was humor in his expression, and something else…something dangerous.
Hudsons Crossing Page 6
