Playing for Time by Bretton Barbara

Author:Bretton, Barbara [Bretton, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Published: 2012-05-26T16:00:00+00:00

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Ryder was feeling more depressed than a man who had just saved the lives of twenty-six schoolkids had any right to. On the flight back from Chicago, Alistair had chatted with the two other PAX members on board, trying to lure Ryder into conversation, but he was having none of it.

The feeling of elation that his success should have brought to him was missing, and he felt curiously flat, like an empty champagne bottle after the party was over. He'd wanted to stay with Joanna, to be near her all night, to wake up with her in the morning.

The timing couldn't have been worse. He knew her fears, knew how much it took for her to take a chance on a man who seemed as aimless and useless as he did, and there wasn't a damned thing he could say or do to ease those fears. Not while he was still in PAX.

When this business with Rosie Callahan was over, Ryder would pack up his equipment and get the hell out of the Carillon before he hurt Joanna the way he'd once hurt Valerie.

He might be his father's son, but he wasn't a total bastard. At least, not any more.

He was about to knock on Joanna's door when Rosie Callahan's cheerful voice stopped him. "So how was Illinois?"

He turned around and looked at Rosie, who was standing in her doorway dressed in a pale blue Chanel suit that, knowing Rosie, was probably the real McCoy.

"Terrific," he said, bending to kiss her cheek. She smelled, appropriately enough, of Chanel No. 5.

"I feel like I should be smuggled out at midnight," she said.

"Don't worry about Stanley," Ryder said. "He's gone to Atlantic City for a few days. Just worry about your assignation with Bert."

"You do have a way with words, honey." Rosie laughed and ushered him into her apartment. Two leather suitcases rested near the door. "I'm waiting for my ride to the airport."

"Did you leave your key with Joanna?"

"That I did." She gave him a sly grin. "I also told her about the note."

He wagged a finger at her. "Don't even think of asking, Rosie."

She feigned dismay. "How could you even think of such a thing, Mr. O'Neal? I am the soul of discretion."

"Not to mention tact," he said, remembering some of her questions that morning. He should never have given that message to Rosie but he knew there wouldn't be time for another phone call and he was desperate to make certain Joanna knew he wasn't a hit-and-run artist.

"Besides," Rosie continued, pouring them each a glass of port, "I don't even have to ask. Joanna blushed redder than my hair used to be and you look altogether too pleased with yourself."

"It's all in your imagination, Rosie," he said easily. "You read too many romance novels."

"I read mysteries," she countered, "and you're the biggest mystery I've ever encountered, but this time you're out of luck, Ryder. I can read you like a book."

He grinned but said nothing. The doorman buzzed three times and Rosie told him to come up for her bags.

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