Challenging Andie (14 page)

Hardly Ursula Andress hot, Andie thought as she gazed at her reflection in the full-length oak cheval mirror that graced the corner of the bedroom. Her hips were too curvy, and her smaller chest lacked Ursula’s va-va-voom factor, but the clever cut emphasized the length of her legs. She put on oversized shades, and added a quick slick of lip-gloss.

She’d do.

Andie laced up white espadrilles, and went downstairs.

In the sitting room she opened the full-length red and gold brocade curtains that covered the far wall, to reveal French doors that led out into a glorious back garden. She gasped a delighted breath at the view beyond the glass, threw the doors open wide, and stepped into the warm sunshine.

A colorful mosaic table with matching café chairs graced one side of the patio, with a large weatherproof box behind it, against the cottage wall. Striding over, she lifted the lid to peer inside.

Lanterns to light the mosaic table. Two long cushions, printed with muted smudges of color, like impressionist paintings, and long, tapering yellow candles. She leaned in and sniffed. Citronella. Brianne obviously spent a lot of quality time out here.

Two long, teak loungers sat in the shade of a large oak. On breathing in the scented air, Andie felt her spirits rise with every inhale.

Brianne was obviously a keen gardener. Long borders were planted with herbaceous perennials, lending a Monet-burst of color to the acres of close-cropped green lawn. She must have a gardener who kept it well tended in her absence. A brick barbeque in the corner was surrounded by plantings of fragrant herbs.

Andie pulled a cushion from the box and stepped over warm sunken flags interplanted with lemon thyme. Bees buzzed lazily from flower to flower. Reaching a sun-lounger she dropped the cushion, then sat to unlace her espadrilles.

She hummed out a breath as her bare feet flexed in the cool grass.
Paradise on earth.
Sinking on the cushion, she lay back to gaze into the leafy green canopy above. This was so much better than hiding inside her house. A thousand times better. One hand rested on her stomach, and the other cupped her head. A small, blue butterfly flittered from flower to flower, adding another vibrant touch to the masterpiece.

Her eyes drifted shut.

*****

 “So, what’s the deal?” Ryan took a carton of orange juice from the fridge, swung the door closed, and propped his butt against the counter.

Ben Fitzgerald had sounded hassled beyond belief when he started this conversation, and Ryan felt tension grip, waiting for Ben’s answer.

“Arnat is flying into London this weekend for a fundraiser that ‘Friends of Bekostan’ are holding on Monday. I’ve tried to get you an interview, but he’s adamant there isn’t time. He’s flying out straight after.”

“He needs the publicity.” Ryan picked two long glasses from the cupboard above the counter. “If he wants to push for support, he’ll need—”

“There’s talk of a coup. He can’t leave the country for long.”

The hairs on Ryan’s arms stood up. “How soon?”

“Days.”

“I need that interview.” Every correspondent worth his salt would be heading to Bekostan to document the handover of power. Once the stricken country got around to granting its citizens the right to vote, Arnat would be the logical choice for leader—if he lived that long.

“You’re the only man to get it. You’ll have to go to the fundraiser, meet him, and persuade him to talk.”

“Hold up.” Ryan strode to the dresser, pulled open the drawers and found paper and pen. “Give me the details. You better send two tickets.”

He could go alone, but the thought of leaving Andie alone in the cottage while he travelled to London for the party tightened his gut into a knot. He spooned the glasses half-full with crushed ice from Bri’s huge American fridge, and filled them with orange juice. Ben had revealed that a contingent, including some of the leaders of the camp that Emily had supported, would be making the journey too. Maybe meeting the people behind the story would have the same impact on her as it had on him.

Bekostan and its struggle had been part of his everyday reality for such a long time. The things he’d seen, the brave fortitude of the people had affected him profoundly. He hadn’t shared his experiences with anyone he cared for. Had always been able to keep the two sides of his life separate. Up until today…

A remembered vision of Andie in the field earlier flickered through his memory. When she’d challenged him to declare his feelings, his first instinct was to change the subject. He hadn’t been able to. She deserved to know, so despite his forebodings, he’d spoken the truth. Ryan cared, and wasn’t ready to let her go. Where they would go from here was anyone’s guess. The thought of trusting her, being the man that a woman like Andie needed was a challenge. His job was in Bekostan. He couldn’t give it up, couldn’t settle for life in a quiet village in the back of beyond. That just wasn’t how he was made. Ryan groaned, and picked up the glasses.

Sunlight dazzled as he stepped out onto the patio. He glanced around, feeling the adrenalin still flowing strongly in his veins in the aftermath of Ben’s call. He itched to retreat to his computer. To scan the chat-rooms, and see what his contacts on the ground could reveal of the upcoming struggle. Then there’d be preparation—the list of interview questions would need to be updated in light of recent developments.

He clenched the frigid glasses, and blinked. Across the belt of green, under a spreading oak, a barely dressed vision lay on a sun-lounger in dappled sunlight.

Snow-white fabric covered her breasts, and her hand rested on her stomach, over white bikini bottoms accentuated by a belt with a large silver buckle. She looked so damn delicious that all thoughts of conflict in a country on the other side of the world were knocked straight out of his head.

In quick strides, he was at her side.

Large sunglasses shaded her eyes from view, but she was breathing deeply. Asleep, or close to it.

Ryan sank onto the grass, placing the drinks next to him.

She was too pale to be lying under the sun’s rays without protection. He leaned close, and brushed his lips to her shoulder.

A lazy hand rose, flicking at him.

He felt the smile on his lips as he sat back and trailed a finger across her stomach in a feather-light caress, removing it quickly before she swatted it again.

In her stupor, she was unaware of him. A situation that couldn’t be allowed to continue.

Ryan brushed his lips against hers.

Her breath quickened, and she sighed softly. One hand snaked across his chest, reaching up to stroke the hair at his nape.

“Mmm.”

Her dreamy murmur sent blood rushing south.

He took off her sunglasses, folding them carefully and placing them on the ground next to their drinks.

“I wondered where you’d got to.” Her voice was rusty with sleep.

He handed her the drink, and watched her throat ripple as she drank deeply.

Ryan’s heated gaze burned every inch it touched.

Andie’s nipples firmed into peaks under the shielding fabric. To cool her flushing face, she trailed the icy glass over her forehead. His gaze swept lower.

The intense sensual focus sent tingles to her core.

“All you need is a knife strapped to your thigh and you’re every man’s fantasy,” he murmured in a voice so low she barely heard him. “You’re my fantasy, whatever you’re wearing.”

Andie’s heart picked up pace.

His gaze met hers, the dark emerald almost swallowed by his pupils. Slowly, deliberately, he eased off his loafers with his long, tanned fingers.

Andie swallowed.

Not breaking eye contact, Ryan stood and pulled his T-shirt off, tossing it onto the grass.

Andie’s hand covered her midriff, pressing down to still the butterflies fluttering inside. Would she ever tire of looking at him? Shadowed against the sky, he looked like an ad for something, with strong, wide shoulders and a bare expanse of tanned chest. Andie swallowed as her gaze drifted lower.

Ryan’s hand undid one button, then the rest. Andie sucked her bottom lip in.
Surely he wasn’t going to…

Ryan shoved his jeans and boxers down, and stepped out of them.

Panic flared. Andie glanced around.

“We’re alone. There isn’t another person for miles.” Ryan’s voice pulled her attention back. Her mouth dried as she stared helplessly at every impressive, aroused, inch of him. Her body flooded with heat.

“I don’t think the lounger will hold our…”

“Honey, I think you should stop thinking.” Ryan leaned down and slanted his mouth over hers. Whatever thoughts she had took flight at his familiar taste. The sun-lounger creaked as his body settled over hers.

A warm breeze teased Ryan’s dark hair against her cheekbone as their mouths melded. The sound of birdsong and white clouds scuttling across the blue sky high above caught Andie’s eye, and joy bubbled from her like water bubbling from a spring.

“What’s so funny?” Ryan pulled back, a mock frown on his face. “Aren’t I doing it right?”

Her stomach dipped in and out as she laughed. “I’m just happy.” She felt the sappiest of smiles stretch her face, and didn’t care how stupid she must look.

“Happy, huh?”

Andie waved a hand in the air. “The sun, the garden,” her voice lowered as she tilted her face to his. “You.”

“I’ve never had a woman laugh when I was making love to her before.” Ryan touched the dimple in her cheek with his index finger, trailed his lips in its wake.

“It’s new for me too.” The knot of attraction tightened.

His hips moved in a sinuous flex that stole her breath. “Kiss me.”

As his mouth joined hers, all thoughts of where they were faded away into nothingness, leaving only one thing—Ryan, and the way he was loving her.

Chapter Nine

Ryan sliced red peppers and added them to the pile of mushrooms he’d chopped into thin slivers, grateful for the distraction of preparing dinner. He’d slipped out of bed, leaving Andie sleeping after a long, lazy afternoon discovering everything about each other’s bodies. By the time they’d climbed in to the shower, he was sure the driving need for her must have abated—until he’d picked up the soap and lathered his hands…

The oil in the frying pan started to spit, and Ryan turned the heat down. If only it was so easy to turn
his
heat down. What gave Andie such power over him? His previous sexual partners had been arousing, sure, but Andie…his mind tangled around scattered images of her hair, her face, her curvy body. Her laughter while she stared up at the sky had shot a bolt of surprise through him. When she’d said, so simply, that she was happy, and cited him as the reason, warmth mixed with tenderness had swelled within, killing stone-dead the words on his tongue.