Kissed By a Stranger
She had just about given up on reaching any human habitation when the road opened onto a clearing among the forest trees. In the centre was a colonial-style house of substantial proportions.
Care had been taken to incorporate traditional materials and colours. The building had wide verandahs surrounding its U-shaped design. What looked like a natural rock-pool, but probably wasn’t, served as a swimming pool off to one side of the clearing. Picturesque was the first word which sprang to Sarah’s mind.
At least here was a residence befitting Luke Ansfield’s status, she thought, feeling her spirits lift. She had begun to have serious doubts after traversing that daunting driveway.
Fresh doubts assailed her as she spotted a man polishing a jade-green Branxton cabriolet. Just the sort of car she’d imagined Luke Ansfield driving, but the man working on it wasn’t Luke.
The man met her halfway from her car. ‘Are you lost?’
Her reflection stared disconcertingly back at her from the car’s glossy finish. She looked away. ‘Is this your place?’
The man’s face hardened slightly as he sensed her evasion. ‘I live here, yes.’
Sarah also had an instinct for evasiveness. He hadn’t exactly answered her question. She took the plunge. ‘I’m looking for Luke Ansfield.’
The man frowned. ‘What makes you think he’s here?’
‘It is his property, isn’t it?’ she persisted.
The man dropped the chamois leather he was wielding and came closer. ‘I think you’d better leave.’
‘It’s all right, Glen. You could say I was expecting her.’
At the sound of his voice a strange sensation wound along her spine, all the way to the soles of her feet. Luke Ansfield was her rescuer. She would recognise that deeply resonant voice anywhere. She spun around. ‘Hello, Luke. I came to the right place after all.’
His midnight-blue eyes were masked behind dark glasses and his mouth tightened. ‘I had no doubt that you would, Ms Fox.’
‘It was Sarah yesterday.’ Damn, why was her voice so husky all of a sudden? She’d interviewed royalty without such a betraying effect.
He gave a long-suffering sigh. ‘Yesterday I didn’t know who you were until I pulled you out of that crumpled car.’
‘You mean, if you’d known you’d have let the car blow up and take me with it?’
‘Hardly. What do you want, Sarah?’
It was progress of a sort, but his tone was hardly encouraging. She was also aware of the man, Glen, leaning against the Branxton, absorbing every word. Who was he—assistant, bodyguard? Both? ‘I wanted to thank you for saving my life,’ she offered.
‘You thanked me yesterday.’
‘Well, I...didn’t know who you were then.’
A muscle worked in his jaw. ‘Does it make a difference?’
She threw caution to the wind. ‘You kissed me yesterday. It’s at least worth an introduction.’
He looked as if keeping his temper in check was requiring considerable effort, but he said, ‘Come inside.’ To the other man, he said, ‘No need to loose the dogs yet, Glen.’
Following him inside, she flicked a nervous glance over her shoulder. ‘Dogs?’
‘Guard dogs,’ he supplied, confirming her fears. ‘Between Glen and the Dobermanns, I’m well protected up here.’
Well protected from what? Or from whom? Fans from his racing days, or the problem in his past Kitty had alluded to? Either way, Sarah was grateful Luke wasn’t making any moves to set Glen or the dogs onto her yet.
As he strode ahead of her into the house she again became aware of his sheer physical presence. Yesterday she’d put his startling impact down to the shock of the accident. But what was today’s excuse?
She made herself focus on the imposing kitchen into which he led her. It seemed to be the hub of the house, judging by the vast colonial table which was strewn with papers and a state-of-the-art laptop computer. Dog toys on the floor reminded her uncomfortably of the absent Dobermanns, and the sheer size of a chewed wicker basket made her gulp in dismay.
She brought her gaze back to Luke himself. ‘Coffee?’ he asked, and when she nodded, he began setting up a plunger coffee-maker. His movements were assured, economical and definitely sexy. A man who elevated coffee-making to an art form, she thought with a start.
In an amazingly short space of time he set before her a cup of the most delicious coffee.
‘My own blend,’ he told her when she said so.
She looked around the beautifully appointed kitchen and into the comfortable luxury of the house she could glimpse beyond it. ‘This is a lovely home. Do you live here all the time?’
Tension radiated visibly along his broad shoulders. ‘Is this an interview?’
The sheer mystery of the man had aroused her reporter’s instincts, but she’d resisted the temptation, knowing her interest in him was much more personal. Since she didn’t want to admit as much, she said, ‘It is news, yes. When the Coast to Coast audience finds out who my knight in shining armour turned out to be—’
‘They aren’t going to.’
His furious denial cut across her so abruptly that she spilled coffee into the saucer. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I said they won’t find out because you are not going to tell them.’
She’d known he was camera-shy but this was totally unexpected. ‘Surely your neighbours know who you are? Your face isn’t exactly unknown.’
‘My neighbours mind their own business, as I would prefer you to do,’ he stated, in a tone which suggested she would do well to co-operate. ‘These days I’m an ordinary man living an ordinary life, and I value my privacy highly. I would have thought that message came across clearly enough yesterday.’
She felt her face flood with colour. ‘You made your point very successfully.’
He moved closer and her pulses began to race afresh. ‘I could make it again, just so we understand each other.’
She didn’t understand anything, least of all him. All she knew was that the closer he came the warmer the room suddenly became. When his arms slid around her, she held her breath. There was no camera, no reason to let him kiss her, yet she knew as surely as she knew her own name that she was going to allow it.
Her heart thudded as he lowered his mouth to hers. When his eyes locked with her startled gaze, the air seemed charged between them. Her thoughts rioted. What was it about Luke Ansfield that practically bewitched her in his presence?
Whatever it was, it was powerful. Though his kiss was light, almost teasing, daring her to pull away, she could no more have done that than she could have flown.
Instead, she felt an urge to rest her head against his chest and let his strong arms enfold her, shutting out the world as he had shut out the blast from her car yesterday.
He stepped away from her before she could do anything so betraying. She released the breath she had been unaware she was holding. ‘You drive a hard bargain, Mr Ansfield.’
If he heard the tremor in her voice, he ignored it. ‘Then you’ll do what I ask?’
‘Well, you did save my life,’ she said diffidently.
When their eyes met, she was surprised to see something very like appreciation in his sea-dark gaze. ‘It was worth saving.’
She looked quickly away. ‘Why is it so important to you not to be recognised?’
‘Isn’t it enough that it is?’
Her silence was a high price to pay for what he had done, but it was equally obvious that it was his price. How could she refuse? To her astonishment, she realised it was also what she wanted to do, which was against all her professional instincts and training. What was happening to her?
With a reluctance which didn’t bear close scrutiny, she stood up. ‘Very well, I’ll respect your privacy. I owe you at least that much.’
His gaze remained on her. ‘Do I have your word?’
It was her turn to bristle with annoyance. ‘I’ve said I’ll keep your secret and I will,’ she snapped. ‘So there’s no need to set your dogs onto me.’
He ignored the taunt. ‘I’ll show you to your car.’
Her nerves leapt. She told herself it was the prospect of encountering the guard dogs. It couldn’t have anything to do with Luke’s presence at her side, could it?
CHAPTER TWO
A WEEK later, Sarah joined Kitty for cappuccino at the Oasis on Broadbeach. Aware of the curious glances they were receiving, she tried to ignore them. It was part and parcel of having your face on television every other week.
Kitty leaned closer. ‘Have the powers-that-be decided on a permanent anchor for Coast to Coast yet?’
Sarah played with the froth on her coffee. ‘Richard seems to have the inside running, simply because he happens to be male. If only I could come up with a real attention-grabber of a story.’
Kitty grinned. ‘I can think of one.’
‘You mean Luke Ansfield?’ Sarah shook her head fiercely. ‘I gave him my word I wouldn’t mention that he was the man who rescued me.’
‘What if it comes down to Luke’s privacy or your job?’
Sarah shook her hair back. ‘I wish you wouldn’t ask awkward questions, Kit. Maybe I’m not much of a journalist if my word means more to me than a story, but I only know it does.’
A Ulysses butterfly hovered over the table and Kitty watched it before she said, ‘What about Luke himself? What does he mean to you?’
Sarah started so forcefully that the butterfly swooped away. ‘He doesn’t mean anything to me. We’ve only met twice, and one of those times I was in no condition to appreciate the experience.’
Kitty nodded sagely. ‘You were so much in shock you made a beeline for my office to find out who he was.’
‘All right, he made an impact. But he hasn’t called me since I went to his place to thank him.’
Cradling her cup in both hands, Kitty met Sarah’s eyes. ‘Do you want him to call?’
‘Of course not . . . Well, maybe.’ Yes, definitely, sang an inner voice so loudly that it was a wonder Kitty didn’t hear it. Sarah had hoped that Luke would contact her. She hadn’t misread the sparks which had charged the air between them. It was a stronger feeling than anything she’d ever know. His role in rescuing her didn’t begin to account for it.
He didn’t have her telephone number but he could easily have reached her at the studio. His silence rankled more than she cared to admit, even to her best friend.
Kitty startled her by slamming the cup down hard on the mesh tabletop. ‘For goodness’ sake, woman. Move into the present. You don’t have to wait by the phone any more. What’s stopping you from calling him?’
Kitty was right, and Sarah had asked men out on occasion. But with Luke it was different. It wasn’t that she thought he would object to her calling so much as fear that he didn’t want to hear from her at all. As long as she did nothing, there was still a chance he would get in touch.
She was interrupted by a middle-aged couple, tourists judging by their cameras and travel company hand luggage, asking for her autograph.
She gave it with a smile, earning their gratitude. ‘Wait till we tell our daughter. She lives up here,’ the woman explained.
They left and Sarah released a pent-up breath. ‘I still don’t understand why Luke hides away in the Hinterland. I know that public attention can be difficult, but there must be more to his decision.’
Kitty shrugged. ‘I only know there was something in his past which made him want to escape the limelight. Maybe he just got tired of the adulation.’ She grinned. ‘You must be the only woman for miles who wouldn’t recognise him on sight.’
‘Motor racing was never my sport,’ Sarah said. ‘He looked familiar, but I was too groggy from the accident to wonder why. So many people look familiar to me in my job; it didn’t strike me as unusual.’
‘But they don’t all knock you for a loop,’ Kitty said with a smile. ‘Admit it, Sarah, he got to you.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Not surprisingly. Having the kiss of life performed on you by Luke Ansfield would bowl any woman over.’
‘He did not bowl me over,’ Sarah insisted with less than total honesty. ‘Why are we having this conversation anyway? I’ll probably never hear from the man again.’
She should have known better than to tempt fate when a low voice said close beside her, ‘Good morning, Sarah.’
Her throat dried and it was all she could do to summon the one word. ‘Luke.’
‘We were just talking about you,’ her friend said, earning a sharp kick under the table.
‘Luke Ansfield, this is Kitty Sale. Kitty runs a photo library,’ Sarah explained.
He regarded Kitty with interest. ‘Haven’t we met before?’
Kitty nodded. ‘I’m amazed you remember. I used to date Gavin Corcoran who was . . . ’
‘One of the pit crew when I raced with Team Branxton,’ he supplied. ‘Do you still see Gavin?’
‘We broke up a couple of years ago. I’m kind of available right now.’
Sarah wanted to kill her friend there and then, until she saw what Kitty was up to. Well, it wasn’t going to work. She didn’t know Luke well enough to care whom he dated. Nor was she likely to reach that exalted state. He was already making restless moves. ‘Nice seeing you again, Sarah—Kitty.’
‘Join us for coffee,’ Kitty invited. He seemed about to refuse until she added, ‘I have to go, but Sarah would be glad of the company.’
Yes, she would definitely have to kill Kitty later. What was the matter with the woman? Matchmaking wasn’t usually her style, unless it was on her own account. ‘You said you weren’t busy this morning,’ she hissed.
‘Just remembered an urgent job,’ Kitty said cheerfully, picking up her satchel. ‘See you two later. Have fun.’
Have fun, indeed. A panicky sensation gripped Sarah as Luke slid into Kitty’s vacant chair and signalled the waiter to bring more coffee. He ordered his long and black, she noticed, with the odd awareness she seemed to be developing about him. Small things, such as the way his dark chest hair curled invitingly around the open neck of his polo shirt, seemed to leap out at her unbidden.
‘You don’t have to keep me company if you have other things you’d rather be doing,’ she offered around the tightness constricting her throat.
‘If I had other things to do, rest assured I’d be doing them,’ he stated. ‘Right now, this has a lot of appeal.’
‘It is a lovely day,’ she agreed, choosing to misunderstand. He was only being polite, she assumed.
His eyes rested on her, their sea-depths compelling in the sparkling Broadbeach sunshine. ‘Beautiful,’ he said, in a deep voice redolent with double meanings. He took a sip of coffee, and the way the steam curled around his sensuously full upper lip hammered through that strange awareness.
‘What are you doing in Broadbeach?’ she asked, finding her tongue at last.
‘I had business in town,’ he said dismissively. ‘Are you fully recovered from the accident?’
She frowned. Was she ever going to get a direct answer from this man? ‘I’m fine, thanks,’ she said tautly. ‘The studio wasn’t thrilled about their car, though, and I’m stuck using cabs until they get around to giving me a new one.’ Thinking of the accident reminded her of her amazingly lucky escape. If Luke hadn’t pulled her clear . . .
‘You’re alive, that’s the main thing,’ he said, as if reading her thoughts.
‘Thanks to you. Of all people, you knew the risk of the car exploding, but you didn’t hesitate.’ It was the first time anyone had risked their life for her.
‘Anyone would have done the same,’ he insisted.
‘But they didn’t.’ She gathered her courage in both hands. ‘Why didn’t you want your face seen on television? Was it something to do with why you gave up racing?’
‘Maybe I’ve had enough of celebrity,’ he said, although she felt certain it wasn’t the whole answer. The feeling nagged at her, but he deflected it by asking, ‘Doesn’t it bother you to have people stare at you wherever you go?’
She glanced down at the table. ‘It’s part of the job,’ she said, disliking the defensive note which had crept into her tone.
He gave her a studied look. ‘You enjoy it, don’t you?’
She tossed her hair back, meeting his gaze defiantly. ‘I worked damned hard to get where I am now. Why shouldn’t I enjoy it?’
He drained his cup. ‘You’re right. There’s no reason you shouldn’t enjoy it—for now. But when you find you can’t go anywhere or do anything without attracting attention, and it becomes impossible to tell if your friends like you for yourself or your celebrity, then tell me how enjoyable you find it. I have to go. Nice seeing you again, Sarah.’
A knife-life sensation stabbed through her. He was about to walk out of her life as swiftly as he’d entered it, and every fibre of her being shrieked a protest. Without thinking, she said, ‘Don’t go, please. At least not like this.’
‘Believe me, Sarah, it’s better if I do.’
‘Better for whom—you?’
It was said so bitterly that a flame ignited behind his dark eyes. He raked a hand through his hair and the silver streaks glinted in the sunlight before he smoothed them down again. ‘I’m thinking of you, Sarah, not myself. You’re correct; you do have a right to enjoy your hard-earned fame. My opinion on the subject shouldn’t influence you.’
She managed a shaky laugh. ‘I think we just had our first fight.’
After a moment’s pause, he laughed too. The sound was unexpectedly warm, diffusing some of the tension radiating out of him. ‘It probably means we’re engaged,’ he said.
A strange thrill shot through her, setting thousands of nerve-endings on fire. It took every bit of self-control she possessed to match his jocular tone. ‘Let’s see, we’ve kissed—in the line of duty, of course—we’ve shared coffee, and now we’ve had a minor disagreement. These days that practically constitutes a relationship.’
He regarded her gravely. ‘I can hardly walk out on such a long-standing relationship, can I? Have you had lunch yet?’
She glanced at her watch. It was well past noon. ‘I’ll have to do something about it soon. I’m due at the studio at two.’
‘Your show isn’t on air until tonight,’ he said.
‘But there are promos—promotional commercials—to be recorded, stories to edit and scripts to write,’ she pointed out, adding with a sigh, ‘You aren’t the first person to think that just because the show lasts an hour I work only an hour a day.’
‘I’ve had enough contact with the media not to make that mistake,’ he assured her. ‘But I thought Richard Nero was tonight’s presenter. I gather you take turns.’
It thrilled her much more than it should have to think he kept up to date on her career. It was common enough knowledge, and probably meant nothing, but for some reason the discovery pleased her. ‘Tonight’s show is part of a charity fund-raising telethon, so we’re doing it together for once,’ she explained.
‘You don’t relish the experience?’
She looked away. ‘I can’t stand the man. He wants the job of permanent anchor and will do anything to get it.’
‘And you?’
She felt herself flushing. Surely he didn’t think she was as ruthlessly ambitious as Richard Nero? ‘I want it,’ she admitted frankly. ‘But I’d rather win it on merit than play corporate politics to achieve it.’
‘You don’t think Nero has merit?’
‘Of course he does. But ethics should play a part in getting stories.’
‘Then it’s just as well it was you and not Richard Nero I pulled out of the car,’ Luke observed.
She couldn’t help smiling. ‘Would you have given the kiss of life to Richard so readily?’
His assessing gaze lingered on her face. ‘Let’s say it wouldn’t have been so . . . pleasurable.’ There was a wealth of meaning in the way he said the word. He knew, she thought as warmth pervaded her limbs. He knew exactly his effect on her from the moment his mouth had touched hers.
She felt the blood scorch her face and wished for a concealing layer of television make-up. As it was, she wore almost none when she wasn’t working, so her discomfiture blazed like a beacon for him to see.
‘Sarah?’ he queried softly.
‘I . . . uh . . . let’s have lunch,’ she said, taking refuge behind the café’s menu. For a small beachfront establishment, it boasted an amazingly large menu—for which she was grateful as she hid behind it.
From her hiding place she heard the throaty growl of his laughter. The wretched man was mocking her. She lowered the menu, her eyes flashing fury at him. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘You,’ he said pointedly. ‘The case-hardened TV reporter can still blush. It’s quite a contrast.’
‘I’m not blushing,’ she denied fiercely. ‘It’s the sun. It’s...’
‘The sun,’ he echoed flatly. ‘Not the thought of me holding you, kissing you, breathing into that delectable mouth of yours.’
‘Stop it,’ she hissed, looking around to be sure no one could hear him. It would be all over the local newspapers next day. Luckily there was no one close enough to eavesdrop. ‘If you recall, I did you a favour, helping you conceal your identity from the cameras. I could have screamed the place down, you know.’
He steepled his hands on the table in front of him. ‘Why didn’t you scream?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Yes, you do. You enjoyed it. Both times. And now you’re wondering how soon we can do it again—preferably without having to write off a couple of vehicles first.’
She felt her eyes widening. ‘You’re unbelievable. You don’t, by any chance, subscribe to the theory that a life you save becomes yours, do you?’
‘It would never occur to me,’ he said mildly. ‘But you didn’t answer my question. Do you want to repeat the experience, Sarah?’
Confusion rocketed through her. Now that he was actually asking if she wanted to see him again, she wasn’t sure of the answer herself. He had haunted her thoughts ever since he’d pulled her from the wreckage, but they were poles apart in beliefs and value systems. ‘I thought you hated the limelight,’ she said, avoiding a direct answer.
‘This has nothing to do with limelight. I want a place in your life, not on your show.’
She drew a taut breath. ‘My show and my life are pretty much intertwined.’
‘They don’t have to be.’ He took the menu from her hands and set it to one side. ‘You’re more than your work, Sarah. Once, I believed I was nothing unless I was in the cockpit of a Formula One car, beating the field at San Merino. Four years off the circuit, living an ordinary life, has shown me it isn’t true. Your own valuation of yourself is what counts, not world championships or the centre seat on some television show.’
‘Tell that to my parents,’ she said sourly. ‘For the first time in my life they’re actually proud of me, because I’m doing this job.’
He gestured dismissively. ‘Then more fool them. They should have been proud of you the moment they set eyes on you, just for being you.’
She gave a hollow laugh. ‘It’s a nice theory. But when you have sisters like mine you need a lot more to hold your own in the family. My sister, Leanne, is a top model, and Isabel, the oldest, is the new political wunderkind in Canberra.’
He nodded, recognising the names. ‘So you have a super-model and possibly Australia’s first woman prime minister in the family. So what?’
‘So the only way I can keep up is to get this job,’ she said, recognising the note of despair in her voice. ‘Haven’t you ever wanted something so much you could practically taste it?’
A tightness gripped his features. ‘You obviously know little about the Grand Prix circuit or you wouldn’t need to ask. The world championship is a heady prize, no matter how many times you win it. The point is, I went after it for my own reasons, not to prove my worth to anyone. Your worth as a person is a given, Sarah, not something you need to earn.’
She sighed. ‘Intellectually, I know you’re right. The problem is remembering it when I’m around my family.’
In the last few minutes she had told him more about herself than she usually told anyone, she thought with astonishment. It was just as well he spurned the headlines. He could have a field day with her confession if he chose. Instinctively, she knew he wouldn’t, but it didn’t stop her feeling embarrassed as she thought of how much of herself she had revealed to a man she barely knew.