In Love and War (3 page)

Say what?
Ariela’s eyebrows rose so high she felt her hairline shift. “I think I need a translation. What is it you do?”

He had a great laugh
. “I’m a journalist. I just finished a stint in Iraq, but I’m back now. It’s nice not having to deal with body armor and helmets.”

Looking skeptically back at him, she assumed he was putting her on.
“Is that right?”

“Actually, yes.”
He shifted onto one butt cheek and pulled out his wallet. A second later, he handed her a press pass from a recent event. “I’m working out of my house now—mostly covering the political side of the war.”

She read the pass
, her doubts dissolving. “You actually live around here?” She handed the card back and he put it away.

“Sure, why not?”

Shrugging, she said, “Well, Lewiston isn't exactly Washington DC.”

“With the internet and a telephone, you can
stay connected from pretty much anywhere. Still, I do plenty of traveling and Washington is only a two hour drive. I can be there and back before Max even notices I'm gone.”

“Max?”

His blue eyes were dancing again. Hello tinkling bells. “My retriever.”

“Ah
yes, I remember him now.”

Dylan grinned.
“He’s probably the reason you woke up wanting a wet wipe.”

She laughed and his smile deepened.
That dimple of his was growing on her.

“Listen,” he
said, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “How about going out with me sometime? We can do something gentle—bumper cars maybe?”

She waited for her retreat mechanism to kick in
. It was strangely silent. “Here I was, hoping you’d suggest hang gliding or bungee jumping.”

“Anything you want. I’m flexible.”

Another perfect smile flashed at her and Ariela’s heartbeat spiked. “Sure, why not?”

“Good.” He stood
and pulled the business card out of his front pocket. “Here, before I forget.”

Ariela
unfolded her legs and reached for the floor with her bare feet. When she rose he was right there with the card. Taking it, she noticed he was taller than she’d initially thought. She supposed that made sense. How well can you judge anyone’s height when you’re on your back?

She walked him to the door.
Opening it before she could, he turned and asked, “When?”

“When what?”
She watched his eyes move as he took an unabashed tour of her face.

“When can I take you out?”

The birds in her stomach were back, fluttering away. Good thing they were keeping the noise down. “Whenever?”

Dylan gave her a meaningful look, full of promise. “Expect a call.”

Ariela closed the door behind him and fell against it. If she hadn’t locked her knees, she would have been a puddle of melting woman on the floor. As Dylan’s footfalls faded out and the back door shut, she pressed a hand to her excited heart. Something told Ariela that she was in for a wild ride with this one. Hell, just sitting in a quiet room with Dylan was exhilarating. Now she knew it wasn’t just the concussion. There was far more at play here. Scary.

She was about to find out whether Dylan’s hands were capable and steady on the wheel, because he was already in her driver’s seat. She knew it, and judging by the look he gave her on the way out, he knew it too. Suddenly the Beatles were singing
Drive My Car
in her head.

Ariela pulled herself up and wobbled on shaky legs into the kitchen for a cold drink of water with loads of ice.

Chapter 3

Ariela was startled awake by the
ringing telephone at her bedside. She peered blearily out from behind heavy lashes and read the clock. Six-thirty? The phone had beaten her alarm by thirty minutes.

Her hand landed heavily on the receiver, and she yawned through a deep, “Hello?”

“Did I wake you?”

A man’s voice?

Confused, Ariela gave a cautious, “Yeah…who is
this
?”

She heard
soft chuckling on the other end. “It’s Dylan. Dylan Bond.”

“Dylan?
Is there something wrong with you? Why would you call anyone this early? What were you thinking? And FYI, I
never
get up before seven.” He might be hot, but she needed to establish some ground rules with the guy.

“
What?
I called to see if you’d like to have dinner with me tonight.”

Now she was
completely lost. Tonight? “What time is it?”

“It
’s six-thirty—p.m.—Friday night. Are you hungry?”

She pulled herself up and
smoothed back her messy hair. “Six-thirty in the evening? Really? Wow.” She tried to get her head around that information.

“Maybe I should just let you sleep.”

His suggestion zapped a hit of adrenaline into her sluggish bloodstream. “No!” Calming herself, she went on. “I mean, I’ve been sleeping for hours, but I haven’t eaten since breakfast, so yes, I’d love dinner.”

“How much time do you need?”

Her shrug was automatic. “Thirty minutes?”

“Done.
I’ll be waiting outside.”

She stifled another yawn. “Use the alley. I’ll be coming out the back.”

“Got it. See you soon, Ariela.”

She hung up and swung her legs out from under the covers. Walking like a stiff zombie over to the window, she raised the blinds.

“Oh my god,” she gasped as brilliant light pierced the room, making her squint in pain. She let go of the cord as if it had stung her, and the blinds dropped back into place, shutting out the searing sunshine. It was too soon for that.

There was a note from Jean stuck to the television. She didn’t expect to be home until late, which meant she probably wouldn’t be home at all. Jean’s notes usually implied a sleepover at Ron’s. Better his place than theirs.

Ariela walked out of the bathroom dressed and primped with four minutes to spare. Standing at her dresser, she picked up her favorite scent and gave her wrists a dab. At the sound of a car pulling up outside, she turned and set the bottle down. She pulled back the edge of the blinds and saw a strange Saab in Jean’s parking space.

“Here we go,” she said
, none too confidently, and grabbed her purse.

The sunshine blinded her when she went outside.
She had to shade her eyes to safely navigate the short flight of steps. Once she touched down on the path of pavers she chanced another look at the cars and was startled to see Dylan staring at her as he climbed out of his car. Looking down at her creamy linen pantsuit and butterscotch camisole, she understood why. She was bright enough to burn his retinas.

They met up at his front bumper
and he escorted her to the passenger side, opening the door for her. Before she could duck into the car, he held up his hand, stopping her for a moment while he looked her up and down more personally. His bold approval made her quiver.

“You
’re breathtaking, luminous,” he told her.

Stunned and speechless, she sank onto the passenger seat, and with a smile, h
e closed her in.

Joining her in the car,
Dylan caught Ariela eyeing him with equally frank interest.

He swiveled his body in his seat, giving her a better view.
“Do I meet with your approval?”

Laughing,
Ariela took him in, from his dark blue, button-down shirt and plain, black jeans to his simple, dark Nike's. “You’ll do.” She imagined it was probably her warm tone, more than her words that pleased him.

“Good.”
Dylan fired up the engine and winked as he threw his arm behind her seat to back out. “I cleaned my car for you too,” he added, looking over his shoulder.

Flattered and amused,
Ariela laughed again. “Be still, my heart.”

“I thought you were worth it.”

“And you’re admitting this to me?”

He shifted into drive and snickered. “
I wanted to make a good impression.”

She was on to him. “How’s your house?”

“You won’t be seeing that tonight.”

Laughing,
Ariela ignored the passing scenery. Her date’s handsome profile was far more appealing. “I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”

“Ah.” Dylan nodded as he signaled his turn. “I meant to give you more time to recuperate, but then I got a call and found out I’m heading out of town early Monday. I didn’t want to put off seeing you again since I’m not sure when I’ll get back.”

“Where are you going this time?”

“Back to Iraq.”

Ariela’s blood cooled. “I thought you were doing domestic stories now.”

“Primarily, but this is intertwined. There’s a small group of senators going over next week and I need to be on the ground before they arrive.”

“Does that make you nervous—going back?” She was nervous for the guy and she didn't even know him!

In her mind s
he saw her parents again, as clear now as that day sixteen years ago. Her mom had been wearing her ruffled, pink robe. Right behind her stood Ariela's dad, looking so handsome in his uniform. He’d been pressed against her, nose buried in her hair as she rinsed out a coffee cup in the sink, while Ariela ate her breakfast at the table behind them. Her father’s arms had wound around her mother’s waist, and they’d swayed side to side to a silent tune. Ariela remembered how she’d smiled when he nuzzled her mother’s neck and started her laughing. Her parents had been playful and completely in love. Like an otter, Ariela had swum in the overflow of that love, amazingly content.

“Gotta go,” was the last thing her father sa
id as he bent to kiss her on the top of the head.

Dylan’s voice pulled Ariela back to the present.

“Not really. Besides, nearly everything we do involves some risk—even driving to the restaurant tonight.”

“I
suppose, but you’re going back to a war zone. Doesn’t that make you a bit anxious?”

He smiled. “No. It’s not something you want to get overly confident about, but if you use your head, you’ll be ahead of the game. Experience minimizes the risks. There’s less chance you’ll blunder into something if you know what you’re doing.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to go.”

“Good thing you don’t have to.
” He glanced over and flashed a smile. “If it makes you feel any better, this should be my last assignment over there. I’m not sorry about it…though probably not for the reasons you might expect.”

Arie
la frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Basically, I was in lockdown for the last year because of how dangerous it got to venture out. We had to rely on trusted Iraqi
stringers to do all our important legwork. It felt like I was under house arrest. When you can’t do your own investigating, it’s frustrating and the job isn’t as satisfying—pretty tough to feel like a journalist under restricted conditions.”

Oddly enough,
Ariela
was
glad he wasn’t going to cover the war anymore, whatever the reason. Still, she didn’t understand why his personal safety concerned her. He was a virtual stranger, yet it really bothered her to think of him in such an unstable and dangerous place.

Dylan seemed to pick up on it. “Listen, I’ll be fine. I won’t even be outside the green zone this time around, so the risks are
minimal.”

She gave him a weak smile. “You’re going to think this sounds weird, but I don’t think I could handle being involved with someone who’s always heading into danger. The stress would be too much for me.”

He grinned and his gorgeous baby blues were dancing when he asked, “Are you suggesting that if I can keep from getting my ass shot off you might consider falling for me?”

Ariela laughed. “I’ve already fallen for you,” she said, making light of how they’d met.

“Good, because I’d like to see more of you.”

“I’d like that too, but you know my terms.”

“Get my ass out of danger, and we’ll talk,” he said with a nod, then flipped on his turn signal and cut across the intersection.

“That about covers it.”

They pulled into a crammed parking lot and drove around and around, looking for an open space.

“Let me drop you at the door, and I’ll find something,” Dylan said on the next pass.

“I’d rather walk in with you.”

He smiled at that.
“Your call.”

The space they eventually found should have come with shuttle service, but any further complaints were forgotten when Dylan’s hand settled comfortably on the small of Ariela’s back as she walked up the steps to the restaurant. That touch made her float the rest of the way.

Ariela waited by a large palm while Dylan spoke with a host. He returned with a suggestion.

“Since we hit it on the wrong night and the wrong time, this could take a while. How about waiting in the bar?”

“Sounds good.”

They cut through the crowd and lucked out when they passed another couple leaving. Ariela and Dylan claimed the vacant stools.

A bartender stopped over and set out fresh coasters. “What can I get you?”

Dylan looked at Ariela with raised eyebrows.

“I’ll take a Seven-Up or Sprite—whichever you have.”

“And I’
d like a glass of your house pinot noir.”

T
he bartender moved off to fill their order.

Dylan
snapped his fingers. “I forgot. You probably can’t have alcohol tonight, right?”

“
The doctor discouraged it.”

“Are you
still fuzzy on the details or can you remember things now?”

“
As far as I can tell, I’m fine.” When the guy looked at you, he
really
looked at you, but without being creepy about it. Interesting. It probably helped in his line of work.

“You’re lucky
it wasn’t more serious,” he said, bringing her out of her thoughts.

She scoffed at
the idea. “I don’t know. Athletes go right back into the game all the time after getting hit harder than I did.”

“Most wear helmets and
still have to be medically cleared first.”

Good point
. “I
was
checked out.” Closing the subject, she smiled sweetly at the bartender when he set her fizzing glass down in front of her.

Dylan drew his wine toward him
, not finished studying her. There was something in his expression she couldn’t quite read.

Finally, he
moved his glass aside and asked, “Can I touch you? Would you mind? I’ve wanted to check something out since I picked you up.”

Touch her? What did he expect her to say
, “
Grope away
?” Considering where they were, she felt relatively safe.
Still
.

After a lengthy delay, she
asked carefully, “Touch me where?”

It was tough to say which was sexier, h
is chuckle or his grin. “Indulge me.” With that, his fingers slid under her hair and brushed her scalp. Their gazes locked. Her heartbeat accelerated as he located her bump and gently traced it. “That’s not as bad as I thought it would be.” He gave her a reassuring smile and withdrew his hand.

Okay, that was strangely arousing
.

“You’re a
little peculiar,” she told him, refreshingly pleased with
this
date.

Clearly amused, h
e raised his glass. “Judging by your smile, I’d say that’s a good thing. Here’s to being in the right place at the right time this morning.”

Those astonishing lapis
blue eyes shimmered over the rim of his glass, beckoning her into dangerous depths as they tapped their stemware together.

***

The surprises continued during dinner. At one point Dylan picked up the strawberry on the edge of his plate by the stem and sliced Ariela’s romantic heart wide open by offering it to her.

A startling yet pleasant thought
flowed through her mind. He could be the
one
—if only he had a less dangerous occupation. She gave him a melting look—she couldn’t help it.

“
Would you like it?” His smile coaxed her to accept. “I saw how much you enjoyed yours.”