Heartfire

Home > Other > Heartfire > Page 13
Heartfire Page 13

by Karen Rose Smith


  Max clasped it, then lifted her hair to let the necklace slide properly in place. The pads of his thumbs along her nape under her coat collar, his tall presence behind her, his caring, caused her breath to come in short puffs.

  Gently, he turned her around. Gazing into her eyes, he said, "Beautiful."

  She leaned closer to him, wanting an intimacy that scared her to death because she'd never wanted it before—not like this. As he bent to her, their lips touched and clung. The kiss was so tender that a longing and yearning and aching greater than Tessa had ever known swept through her. Breathless from the impact, she parted her lips.

  Max caressed the small of her back, bringing her slightly closer. Everything about Max excited her, intensified the desires that had lain dormant for so long. He was stability and comfort and safety, but passion and adventure, too. And she loved him. Irrevocably.

  Max gauged his response, called on his self-discipline and restraint as his tongue glided against hers. He'd known her kiss would arouse him easily, just as dancing close to her had. But tonight he'd wanted to steal whatever he could get without going too far. Now he was at his limit. Why couldn't Tessa want the same things from life he did? Why couldn't she be...more like Leslie? No. Then she wouldn't be Tessa.

  He slowly ended the kiss, wishing, hoping, dreaming. But when he opened his eyes, he had to face reality—Tessa standing at a hotel room door. Tessa's life.

  Her cheeks were rosy, her mouth shiny from his kiss. Clearing her throat, she reverently touched the necklace. "Would you like to come in?" She quickly added, "We could make coffee...or call room service...or something."

  If he stepped into that room, they'd both regret it in the morning. "It's late. I'd better not."

  Her fingers hadn't left the chain. "Thank you, Max."

  All the sensations rushing through him were bittersweet, both enjoyable and painful. "You're welcome. Do you have your key card?"

  Taking it from her purse, she slid the card into the lock. The green light flickered, and she opened the door. "Good night, Max."

  "Good night, birthday girl. Sleep well."

  Her shy smile, her just-kissed expression, the longing in her eyes, almost led him to throw caution and reality to the wind by hauling her into his arms again and carrying her to the bed. But his conscience and his discipline took him a step back.

  Tessa went inside and let the door close behind her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dancing in New York was but a dream as Tessa sat on one of the sets at WHBT, waiting for the camera to roll. Since this was a live show, the host, Mark Thompson, watched the monitor, waiting for his cue after a briefing of news and weather.

  Tessa hadn't met Mark before this morning, but he seemed personable enough and eagerly interested in her career. They'd had a brief discussion about her past experiences and the upcoming Summit, and he'd told her he'd stick to those topics.

  Tessa smoothed her skirt over her knees. The dress she'd worn to the school dance had seemed appropriate. Because of the flared skirt she wouldn't have to worry about too much leg showing. Not particularly nervous about the interview, she was nervous about Max sitting in the audience watching. Ever since they'd returned from New York, his regard had been penetrating, his silences disturbing. Even as she'd blown out her candles on the birthday cake Ryan and Flo had baked for her, his gaze hadn't missed a pucker of her lips or the tears that had collected in her eyes as the familial feeling of belonging overwhelmed her.

  One of the cameramen gave her the signal they'd be "on" in ten seconds. She took a deep breath.

  Smiling, Mark introduced Tessa then led her through a brief résumé of her career, from her first job in New York to the break when a fellow correspondent had gotten the flu and Tessa had been offered the assignment to travel overseas to cover a government coup in his place. Using her wits and daring, she'd discovered where the deposed leader had been hiding and obtained an exclusive interview. Her freelance career had been launched and her articles demanded attention.

  As the station broke for a commercial, Tessa's gaze met Max's. His frown cut deep into his cheeks. Because of his attitude about her lifestyle, she'd never told him much about her career. She supposed he was hearing a lot of this for the first time. Evidently, he didn't approve. A deep sadness filled Tessa's heart. If Max couldn't accept who she'd been, who she was now, they'd never have a chance at a—

  Readjusting his microphone, on cue Mark Thompson looked into the main camera and reintroduced Tessa and the segment. But this time instead of proceeding to the subject of the Summit as Tessa expected, he took an entirely different tack.

  Facing her more squarely, he asked, "So what do you see yourself doing ten years from now?"

  She kept from glancing toward Max. "I don't plan that far ahead."

  Thompson smiled again disarmingly. "Give it a shot."

  With a small shrug, she said, "I love my work. I wouldn't have taken the chances I have or traveled so much if I didn't. Even when I'm sixty, I hope I'll still be involved in this business somehow."

  The host shifted in his chair, obviously not expecting her to be so vague. "I imagine your career makes a personal life difficult."

  "It does." She didn't elaborate.

  "Have you managed close relationships? Exciting affairs? Cross-country romances?"

  Tessa thought about Ryan sitting in the audience and could have slugged Thompson gladly. But that would only increase his ratings. "People outside of my profession like to glamorize it. I do my job. Whatever happens along the way, happens." Tessa was aware of Max in the audience. His scowl. His tense posture. Was he perturbed with her or Thompson?

  "But, Ms. Kahill, I'm sure the viewers want to know exactly how your profession affects your personal life."

  Hoping to throw him off-guard, she retorted, "Inquiring minds want to know?"

  He accepted the jibe and grinned. "Of course, they do. Tell us about at least one of your experiences. It would be something for a young journalist to think about if he or she were considering doing what you do."

  She'd give Thompson what he wanted and hopefully he'd move on. "Once I met another journalist in a foreign country under siege. We turned to each other when the going got dangerous. I thought I'd found someone who could share the excitement and the travel. He thought..." She sighed. It didn't hurt any more but reminded her how naive she'd been. "He didn't care about sharing his life, just the six weeks while he was there."

  "So...are you saying to have a career like yours, a woman would have to put her personal life on hold?"

  She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "That's for each individual to decide. My career is important to me. To have a relationship, I'd need someone special in my life who could understand that and give me the freedom I need."

  Her serious, honest answers stopped Thompson from probing any further. He went to commercial.

  ***

  Max didn't say much as he and Tessa and Ryan toured the television station. Tessa didn't like silence between them, the uncertainty it caused. But she also knew from experience that Max would tell her what was on his mind when he was ready.

  They stopped at a family diner for lunch where Ryan chattered about everything he'd seen at the station. When they returned to the house, Tessa was halfway up the steps with the intention of changing her clothes when her cell phone beeped. She stopped mid-step to reach into her purse for it.

  From the foyer Max said, "You could wait till you get to the top."

  She scrunched her nose at him and answered it.

  "Tessa, it's Linc. I know you said you're tied up. I know you're..." He hesitated, "...involved. But I didn't know if you'd want to pass up this opportunity, too. Unfortunately, brushfires in California are out of control. I'd like you to cover what's happening for at least a few days. I have people lined up for interviews."

  Slowly she descended the steps. "I need to think about it."

  "You realize I need someone on this ASAP. I can give
you an hour."

  Linc was the consummate businessman and she knew he was doing her a favor by allowing her that amount of time to make her decision. "I'll get back to you in an hour," she promised him.

  Ryan had run out to the kitchen but Max was watching her. He said, "You'll let who know what in an hour?"

  "It was Linc Granger." She explained to Max what he'd wanted.

  "I think you should go."

  Tessa couldn't have been more surprised. "What?"

  Max stuffed his hands in the pockets of his khaki slacks. "You want to go, I know you do. You missed that last opportunity. You've given me and Ryan five weeks. We can't expect you to put your life or your career on hold."

  He was saying all the right words, but something about them didn't ring true. "What about Ryan?"

  A glittering hardness entered Max's eyes that allowed no glimpse into his emotions. "You'll be leaving in two weeks, anyway. He might as well deal with it now."

  She dragged her hand across her forehead. "I don't know, Max."

  "It's best for everyone if you go. All our lives have to get back to normal."

  If Max didn't want her here, if he thought this would be best for Ryan... She could use some time away to consider what she wanted, too. Before she had the opportunity to think about it longer, Max decided, "I'll go tell Ryan. You call Granger back."

  "Maybe I should tell Ryan."

  Max pulled his hands from his pockets and strode to the kitchen without even looking over his shoulder. "If you have time, you can talk to him, too. But I imagine you'll have to get to the airport." And with that he disappeared from sight.

  What was wrong with Max? What had she said that had made him so...distant? Or had he finally realized she had a career and she'd never be the type of woman he wanted, the type of woman Leslie had been?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Tessa's suitcase stood ready by the door. A weight much heavier than that travel bag lay on Max's chest. Brushfires. Why the hell had he encouraged her to go?

  Because she'd wanted to go. He'd seen it in her eyes. Tessa's wanderlust couldn't be cured by him or anyone else. Her TV interview had made that abundantly clear. She wanted freedom. What kind of relationship could two people have if one of them was always traipsing off to God knew where? Let alone raise a child, or children. Watching Ryan now with his wide, questioning brown eyes, Max suspected his son was as unsettled by this trip of Tessa's as he was. But they both had to get used to the idea that nothing about Tessa was permanent.

  Tessa came down the stairs looking uncertain, her trench coat hung over her arm. Ryan sat on the sofa next to Max, quietly fidgeting with his fingers. Even when he heard Tessa, he didn't move.

  She crossed to the sofa and knelt down beside him, kissing his forehead. "I'll only be gone a few days. A little longer than when I went to New York."

  He looked up at her with quiet, sad eyes and didn't say anything.

  Tessa rose to her feet.

  Max pushed himself up. "I'll walk you to the car."

  As soon as they stepped outside, she laid her hand on his arm. "Max, maybe I shouldn't go."

  Her hand on his arm felt too good, too right. "What good will that do? You'll be leaving for the Summit. Eventually he has to accept the fact that you're not staying."

  "But maybe we didn't prepare him enough. Maybe this was too quick after New York—"

  The front door pushed open, and Ryan came tumbling out. "Tessa, Tessa. What did I do wrong? Please don't go away again." Tears ran down his cheeks unchecked.

  Max's heart twisted and he lifted Ryan into his arms. "You didn't do anything wrong. Why would you think that?" When Ryan ducked his head and wouldn't answer, Max looked at Tessa. All the color had drained from her face. Holding Ryan in one arm, Max cupped her elbow. "Tessa?"

  Tessa tried to absorb the full impact of Ryan's question. California was much farther away than New York City. Just as when she'd gone to New York, she'd shown the state to him on an online map, hoping it would be a another learning experience. But this time, she wasn't exactly sure when she'd be back. She hadn't been able to mark the day on the calendar for him as she had when she went to New York. Bits of conversation she'd had with him fell into place. Her own unresolved hurts from childhood flooded in and she suddenly understood exactly what was bothering Ryan, what had been bothering him for a long time.

  She dragged up her voice. "Let's go inside."

  "But you'll miss your plane..." Max began.

  "Let's go inside," she repeated.

  Once in the house, she sank down on the second step of the stairway and held out her arms to Ryan. "Come here, honey."

  Max lowered him to the floor, and Ryan didn't hesitate to come to her. She patted the step next to her and he sat. Curving her arm around his shoulders, she asked, "Do you know why your mom died?"

  Max's brows arched and he looked as if he was going to protest when Ryan said, "She got sick and went to the hospital and never came back. When I get sick and go to the doctor's, I come back home!"

  Tessa's arm tightened around his shoulders. "Your mom got a kind of sickness that doesn't get better. She wanted to come home, honey, honest she did." Tessa's voice caught. "Because she loved you so much. But the sickness made her weak and tired and it took her away. Her dying had nothing to do with you. If she could have come home and been your mom forever, she would have."

  Ryan focused on one point. "She still loved me? Even after she went away?" he asked, his gaze and voice hopeful.

  "Yes, she did. And she still loves you now. Mommies love their children forever, even if they have to go away." Tessa squeezed his shoulder. "You did nothing wrong. Her getting sick, her not coming home, had nothing to do with you. It was just an awful thing that happened."

  Ryan looked down at the strings of his sneakers. "But one of the kids at school, his dad left and didn't come back. Brian said it's because he was bad and his mom and dad yelled about him all the time...and I thought I did something to make my mommy go away..."

  Tessa laid her head against Ryan's and hugged him tighter. "You are the best little boy anybody could want. Sometimes things happen and we can't do anything about them."

  Max crouched down in front of Ryan. "What did you think you did wrong?"

  Ryan shrugged. "I thought and thought and thought. But I don't 'member Mommy very much."

  Tessa lifted Ryan's chin. "Ryan, if I tell you I'm going to come back, will you believe me?"

  He glanced away into the living room and murmured, "California is way far away. Not like New York." Then he faced her again and studied her. "Can you promise?"

  Feeling her heart lift a little, she smiled. "Yes, I can promise. And I can call you from California. I can't promise to call every day. I don't know where I'll be and I might not have a signal some of the time. But for sure I can call you when I get there and I can call you before I come home. If I can call in between, I will. Do you believe me?"

  He hesitated, then nodded.

  "Good. And I'd like you to do something for me. Every day I'm gone, you draw me a picture of something you did and you can tell me all about it when I get back. Okay?"

  Ryan's grin spread from one side of his face to the other.

  Max brushed Ryan's hair from his forehead. "We love you, Ryan. No matter what you do or what you say or how old you get, we'll always love you." Max gave his son a hug, and Tessa brushed a loose tear from her cheek.

  Ryan hopped up and ordered, "Don't leave 'til I come back. I wanna get something." Turning, he ran up the stairs.

  Tessa said to Max in a low voice, "I should have known."

  He frowned. "How could you know?"

  Her eyes lifted to his slowly as the pain rose up and spilled over. "Because I wondered the same thing for many years. I figured for my mother to leave me, I had to have done something terribly wrong. My father left, my mother left...how could I possibly think I was all right? And because I thought something was wrong with me, I didn't make friends, eith
er. I was afraid to risk becoming attached...afraid of loving. I bet that's why Ryan isn't making friends."

  "But he's attached to me and you."

  "You're the constant in his life. And like you said before, I was more like Santa Claus. But this time I stayed longer, and he got attached. Sometimes we can't help getting connected even though we're trying to protect ourselves from it."

  Max's hands clenched at his sides, but his voice was even. "It sounds as if he's been thinking about all this quite a bit. That could be why he's distracted at school. I'll talk to Mrs. Bartlett so she knows what's going on."

  Pounding feet down the stairs brought Tessa to her feet. Ryan hopped down the last step and held out his hand to Tessa. It was his favorite car, a red Ferrari. "You take this along so you don't forget about us."

  Tessa realized Ryan still needed reassurance, and probably the best thing she could do was to leave and then return as she said she would so he'd understand he could trust her. She took the car and put it in her purse. "I'll take very good care of it." Leaning down, she kissed him on the cheek and gave him a final hug.

  But she realized she didn't like leaving...she didn't like it at all.

  ***

  Away from the fires, bustle and confusion Friday in her hotel room, Tessa wrapped a fluffy white robe around her after her shower and checked the bedside clock next to where Ryan's miniature Ferrari sat. Too early to call Max and Ryan. They wouldn't be home from school yet. She'd managed a call to them Wednesday evening. Picking up Ryan's small car and turning it over in her hand, she smiled. When she'd called the night she'd arrived, he'd still seemed somewhat anxious. When she'd called Wednesday, he'd jabbered to her for a good fifteen minutes about school and Scruffy.

  Now Max...he was another story.

  He'd been civil...polite...as if nothing had happened between them in the past six weeks. Didn't he care at all what she was doing? Didn't he care if she came back? He certainly didn't sound as if he did. So much had changed during her stay with him this time. She had changed. Because right now she didn't care about what had been going on around her...or her interviews. All she cared about was getting back to Max and Ryan. She felt like a different person. Even Linc had noted a change and commented on her lack of enthusiasm for a story that would engender publicity and add another distinguished notch to her career belt.

 

‹ Prev