Munro Family: The Deception Part 18

In an effort to cheer Andy up, Will changed the subject. "You missed a good time at the ball the other night. Too bad you couldn't make it."

Andy sighed. "Yeah, I'm sorry, but I didn't feel up to socializing."

"I understand, mate. Maybe next time. How's Nikki?" Will asked, referring to Andy's girlfriend.

"Yeah, she's good. It's still early days. She doesn't know about..."

"Your father."

"Yeah."

Silence fell between them. Andy's expression closed. Will could only guess at the terrible memories that bombarded his friend. Andy's father had battled with demons that eventually took his life. It was the reason Andy was so determined to become a negotiator.

Will cleared his throat and spoke again. "I checked the roster. I'm off on Friday. How about we take the boat out?"

Andy lifted his gaze and attempted a smile. "Yeah, that sounds great. I'm working a late s.h.i.+ft, but I'm good for the morning."

"Great. I'll meet you at the marina at ten."

Andy nodded. "Thanks, mate. For everything. I really appreciate it."

Will nodded solemnly. "You know I'm here for you."

"Yeah. I do."

"You'll be fine, Andy. You'll sit that test and pa.s.s with flying colors. In a couple of weeks, you'll be bouncing in here bragging about how you nailed it."

Andy gave him a grateful smile. "Yeah. Absolutely. It's not going to get the better of me." Andy pushed back his chair and stood. He held out his hand.

"Thanks, Will. Thanks for..."

Will nodded in understanding. "Anytime, mate. Anytime."

After seeing Andy out, Will returned to his seat, stacked his hands behind his head and sighed. Less than a minute later, the phone rang again.

"I'm sorry, Will. It's Carol again. I have Savannah O'Neill on line two. She says she's from the Daily Mirror."

His heart leaped into his throat and his pulse beat double time. His focus changed and his concerns about Andy dissipated. Ever since he'd seen Savannah at the movie premiere, he'd been unable to get her off his mind.

No, sc.r.a.p that. Ever since he'd first seen her, he hadn't been able to get her off his mind.

When he'd noticed her at the premiere, it was like he'd been kicked in the gut by a longhorn. He'd cursed silently when he realized the conclusion she'd draw when she saw Candi by his side.

He only hoped she'd understood his none-too-subtle message that Candi meant nothing to him. Savannah had left so abruptly, he hadn't had the chance to speak with her and clarify. As soon as the movie had ended he'd dropped Candi off at her condo. She asked him inside, but he'd let her know he wouldn't be seeing her again.

He regretted the brief look of hurt that had flashed in her eyes, but she'd recover from his rejection soon enough. It was part of what had appealed to him about girls like Candi-girls who were after a good time, not a long time. He couldn't believe how one redheaded woman had changed him so much.

Aware that he hadn't responded, he cleared his throat. "Thanks, Carol. I'll take it." Giving himself a few seconds to grapple with his racing heart, he drew in a couple of deep, calming breaths.

This was crazy. It was like he was sixteen again and about to talk to a girl he'd had a crush on all year. He pressed the flas.h.i.+ng line.

"Savannah, nice to hear from you." He hoped like h.e.l.l she bought the calm routine he'd managed to steal from some reservoir deep inside him.

"Will, thanks for taking my call." She hesitated. "I wasn't sure if I should."

"Should what?"

"Call."

The quiet, uncertain voice on the other end of the line tore pieces out of the calm facade he'd managed to fabricate. Where was the feisty, take-no-prisoners girl he'd come to admire and perhaps...even love?

Love? Did he really put Savannah O'Neill and love in the same thought? Was he mad? Before he could give it any further thought, she spoke again.

"Well, you know...you and Candi last night. And before that, at the brothel..."

He bit his lip. "I'm sorry about that. Candi-she's just a girl I know. We've been out a few times, but never anything serious."

Savannah sighed. "I'm glad to hear that."

He heard the relief in her voice and was pleased. She might care more for him than she was prepared to admit.

"About my job," he added. "I-I should have told you earlier. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to deceive you. I wasn't sure what was going on with you and..."

"It's okay. I-I'm not exactly without fault. I was a little too quick to jump to conclusions. I-I was hoping we could call a truce and maybe... I-I thought we might... That is, if you would like, um... I was wondering-"

"What is it, Savannah?" He was suddenly inordinately pleased she was having as much difficulty with their conversation as he was. She sounded...nervous. Her next words came out in a rush.

"What I meant to say was... I mean, to ask is whether you would like to meet me somewhere for a drink?"

Will's heart leaped with excitement. "Sounds good. When would you like to hook up?"

Savannah's heart skipped a beat at Will's quick response. With an effort, she controlled the sudden galloping sensation in her chest and answered. "H-how about after work today?"

She groaned inwardly as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She didn't want to sound too eager. He might think she was actually keen to see him again. Which of course, she was.

"This afternoon? Yeah, sure. I can probably get away by five. "Where would you like to get together?"

"Um... How about the Marble Bar at the Hilton?"

His voice was low and intimate in her ear. "The Hilton it is."

"Okay, good." She was anxious now to get him off the phone so that she could drag some oxygen into her deprived lungs.

"G-great."

"How will I know it's you? I mean, are you coming as an escort? A journalist? Or someone who's just looking for a f.u.c.k?"

She gasped in outrage. "How dare you? You are crude and rude and utterly without manners. I don't know why I even bothered."

"That'a go, girl! Glad to have you back. For a while there, I wasn't sure who I was talking to. See you at five."

The line went dead in her hand.

Savannah replaced the handset slowly, still in shock over his language and then his abrupt change of tack. She replayed the conversation and thought about it. Until he'd drawn attention to it, she hadn't noticed how subdued she'd been. She guessed it had stemmed from her concern that he wouldn't want to meet with her-that after walking away from him at the brothel, she'd worried he'd wiped his hands clean of her.

When she'd seen him with Candi, she was sure whatever might have sparked between them was well and truly over.

She couldn't deny how relieved she was that he seemed happy about their upcoming meeting. Surely, if he had no interest in her at all, he wouldn't bother? A man like Will was certain to have an endless choice of ways to spend an evening.

Glancing at her watch, she noticed it was just past four. In a little less than an hour, she'd meet him face to face. Her heart rate accelerated. A frisson of nervous excitement zigzagged down her spine like an electric charge. Her request that he meet her at the Marble Bar hadn't been a random choice. Apart from the fact she loved the intimate ambience of the gorgeous room that housed the bar, she was sure he'd remember the last time they'd been at the Hilton.

Did she intend to have pa.s.sionate s.e.x with him again?

She mulled the thought over. He'd told her Candi meant nothing to him. If she were honest, she'd have to admit, a repeat of their night at the hotel was far too appealing to ignore. Memories of their performance on the king-sized bed flashed through her mind. Heat immediately pooled low in her belly. She suddenly yearned to be naked and close to him.

She forced the desire from her mind and focused on the words on her computer screen. She tried to concentrate on the final aspects of the story she'd put together. She'd expected to submit it to Max the day before, but had lost some time preparing for the movie premiere and hadn't had a chance to finish it. She still hadn't caught up with him and only hoped that if she pretended his outburst hadn't happened, it might be forgotten so she wouldn't have to deal with his refusal to consider her follow-up story or worse, the unemployment line.

As if on cue, she looked up and saw Max lumbering toward her. Her stomach clenched with dread.

"Savannah? I'm glad I caught you. I meant to get back to you yesterday about this Black Opal thing."

"Ah, yes, Max. I'm almost finished. You're not going to believe-"

"Enough! I don't want to hear about it. I told you already. I'm not printing any more stories about that brothel. Not now, not ever. Unless you have something else in the pipeline, it looks like you won't have a story in tomorrow's paper."

"Max, I a.s.sure you, it's every bit as sensational as the first one."

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, as if trying to bring his temper under control. "Savannah, your last story was great. It was shocking; it was sensational-it was everything I like to see in a front page story. But there are plenty of other brothels out there. I'm sure it's not the only one pus.h.i.+ng the boundaries of the law. Go and do a story on one of those, like I told you to." He turned away and retreated toward his office.

With a sigh, Savannah stared at the words on the screen in front of her. It was a good story, just like she'd told Max. It wasn't fair that he wouldn't even look at it. She refused to accept the time and effort she'd put into it had been wasted.

With a determined set to her jaw, she quickly composed the final paragraphs and emailed it to her boss. Her brief burst of satisfaction was quickly replaced with fear that she'd just ended her short but ill.u.s.trious career at the Daily Mirror.

She glanced at her watch again and saw that it was now a few minutes to five. She'd have to hurry if she didn't want to be late. Shutting down her computer, she grabbed her handbag and walked quickly into the bathroom.

Pulling out a hairbrush, she ran it briskly through her hair, brus.h.i.+ng it until it fell in soft, loose waves around her face. She riffled in her handbag for her purse-size bottle of perfume and sprayed her neck and wrists. A quick slash of bronze lip gloss and she was almost done.

Smoothing out the wrinkles in her short, black tailored skirt, she gave herself a once-over. Her crisp, white blouse now looked more than a little tired, but it would have to do; she didn't have anything to change into.

Besides, one of the advantages of the Marble Bar was the discreet lighting throughout the room. It barely allowed for you to make out someone else's face, let alone the state of their clothing.

It made it the perfect meeting place. At the end of a hot, sticky day, she never looked her best. She didn't need to draw attention to it by meeting Will in a room with all the lights on.

With a final glance in the mirror, she picked up her handbag and left the room. As she waited for the elevator, she prayed silently she wouldn't run into Max. Making her way out of her building without incident, her breathing picked up its pace. Excitement and nervousness vied for attention. She was only a couple of blocks from where the hotel was located in George Street. In a matter of minutes, she'd be there.

With Will.

In the Hilton.

Again.

CHAPTER 20.

Will took a sip of cold beer from the gla.s.s in his hand and glanced at his watch. The beautiful bar, with its subtle lighting and elegant, but very masculine decor slowly filled with suits. It was five-ten.

She was late.

Her building was only a five-minute walk from the hotel. If she'd left at five, she should have been there by now. He couldn't help the unwelcome thought that perhaps she'd changed her mind.

A shaft of disappointment went through him and he frowned in annoyance. He shouldn't be having such a strong reaction to a woman he barely knew. He wasn't used to feeling so possessive, so primeval-like he wanted to claim her for his own. He didn't know if he was ready to deal with the emotions she stirred up in him. It had been a long six months since he'd allowed himself to feel anything other than icy determination to see those he held responsible for his brother's death, behind bars.

He didn't know what it was about this particular woman that had him agitated, nervous and excited all at once, but he couldn't deny it was true. Every time he saw her, he wanted to take her home, take her to bed and then take care of her for the rest of his life.

He sighed in disgust. He was a goner. He couldn't deny it any longer. He'd fallen for her. She was smart, feisty and beautiful. She did it for him. He only hoped the physical attraction she felt for him went deeper. He owed it to himself to find out and he wasn't above exploiting her attraction for him if it meant she'd come around to his way of thinking. He'd learned the hard way that life was too d.a.m.n short to waste time.

A whiff of exotic perfume drifted past his nose. A second later, he spotted her reflection in the mirrored gla.s.s on the wall behind the bar. She stood less than four feet away. Her gaze meshed with his for a long indefinable moment. His heart stuttered.

He swiveled around on the bar stool and shot her a slow, s.e.xy smile. His gaze paused very deliberately on her chest which, he noted with satisfaction, rose and fell in rapid succession. Yes, he knew where her Achilles heel was. It had everything to do with the sudden hardness between his thighs.

"Sorry I'm late." Her voice was soft and breathy. She moved closer and took a seat beside him at the bar.

"No problem. I hope you don't mind me starting without you?" He indicated the beer in his hand.

"Be my guest. It's not your fault I'm late." She smiled, her beautiful eyes wide and guileless. His heart tripped over.

Oh yeah, he was a goner.

"What are you drinking?" he asked. "My treat."

"Well, in that case, it's top shelf all night."

Will laughed. Warmth spread through him. The iceberg in his chest cracked under the pressure.

"So, what'll it be?"

"Mm, I'll have a Kahlua and milk, thanks. Plenty of ice."

"Kahlua and milk?" He smiled teasingly. "That's such a girlie drink."