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“I assume it’s because of my letter,” she said almost shyly. Now that she was in the same room with him, she suddenly felt like a character from one of those old adventure movies. And she was afraid that that was exactly how she would sound if she tried to thank him for saving her life. Like some helpless, simpering female gushing over a big, strong, macho man.
She needn’t have worried. He was no superhero, she quickly discovered.
“I wish you hadn’t sent me that letter,” he said, still no emotion in his voice.
To her dismay, she blushed. “I simply wanted to thank you, Mr. Brant,” She shifted uncomfortably on the chair.
“It wasn’t necessary. I did what anyone would have done in my position.”
There was no hint of friendliness in his tone. No softening of the lines on his face, no understanding in those dark eyes. Nothing about him resembled the man who had worked frantically to free her from the plane and carry her to safety. The man sitting next to her could have been a complete stranger instead of the man who had tenderly administered first aid to her wounds.
“I don’t believe that’s true,” she told him.
“You’re entitled to believe what you want, Ms. Kellar.”
Kristen felt as if he had dealt her a blow. Why was he behaving this way? She had thought that when she saw him again it would be a warm, friendly meeting with hugs and smiles. Instead, she was sitting next to him feeling awkward and wishing that he’d leave.
“If you didn’t appreciate my letter, why are you here?” she asked, seeing no point in wasting any more time.
“I think we need to get something straight.”
Kristen’s heart pounded in her throat. “And that is?”
“I’m not going to do any interview regarding the plane crash—not for you and certainly not for your boyfriend. I don’t want him calling my house bothering my family and I won’t tolerate being stalked just so the two of you can improve your ratings.” The words were spoken so quietly Kristen might have thought he wasn’t overly upset. But one look in his eyes told her he was extremely upset.
She swallowed with difficulty, then said, “First of all, I didn’t arrange for anyone to call your house. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not working at Channel 12 at the moment and I have no intention of being a part of any story that has to do with the crash.” She leaned closer to the lamp that separated them. Then she turned her head and pulled the hair away from her cheek. “Do you honestly think I want the world to see this?”
Unlike Keith, Tyler Brant didn’t flinch at the sight of her scarred face. Nor did he look uncomfortable. For the first time since he’d entered her apartment, she saw something other than coldness in his eyes. For several moments, they simply stared at each other without speaking, as if they were once more two people struggling to survive. Kristen was the first to look away.
He was the first to speak. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, his voice sounding more like the one she remembered. At first she thought the apology was meant for her scarred face. But then he added, “I thought you were involved in the TV report. Your name did come up several times,”
“It shouldn’t have,” she said quietly, pulling the hair back down across her cheek. She moved away from the lamp, sitting back in her chair. “Believe me, Mr. Brant, you don’t have to worry about my wanting to do a follow-up story on the plane crash. I have no desire to relive that awful day.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Can I count on you to use your influence with management to stop any plans to the contrary?”
She chuckled sarcastically. “I’m only an anchorwoman.”
“I’ve seen the ratings. You’re very popular in the Twin Cities.”
“That was before this happened.” She was unable to keep the bitterness from her voice and immediately regretted letting him see her self-pity. She reached for her crutches and rose to her feet. “Look, I don’t know if it’ll help, but I’ll talk to my boss at the station. Now if you don’t mind, I’m rather tired. I haven’t recovered my full strength since the crash.” She didn’t look at him but at her crutches as she maneuvered through the maze of furniture in the living room.
“You don’t need to see me to the door,” he told her. “I can find my way out.”
“All right.” She watched him walk away, unable to help noticing his broad shoulders. No wonder she had found such comfort in his arms. Tyler Brant was not a weak man, either mentally or physically.
They didn’t exchange another word. It wasn’t until after Kristen heard the door shut that she sank onto the sofa, laid her head on the pillow and pulled the blanket over her shoulders. Any hope she had been harboring that he felt a connection to her was gone. He was just a guy who had done what he had to do in an emergency situation. Now he wanted to forget it—and her. That much had been evident tonight.
“Some hero,” she muttered to herself, then swallowed back a tear that threatened but never did fall.
CHAPTER THREE
TYLER CHASTISED HIMSELF all the way home from Kristen’s. He shouldn’t have gone to see her. He could’ve telephoned and accomplished the same results. It would’ve been the wiser thing to do because he wouldn’t now be haunted by the look on her face when she’d shown him her swollen, bruised cheek.
He could still see that angry, defensive stare she’d given him as she thrust her face under the light. She’d thought he’d be shocked into some kind of negative reaction. What she hadn’t realized was that—compared with the way her cheek had looked when he’d last seen her—her face looked remarkably good.
She must have had the top reconstructive surgeon in the country. It only made sense. She made her living based on her looks. Maybe he should have said something positive about her face.
But he suspected that no matter what he might’ve said, she would’ve interpreted it as pity. And it was obvious she was already immersed in enough of that herself. Besides, he doubted that she would’ve believed him if he’d told her it didn’t look as bad as she thought it did.
There probably wasn’t a thing he could’ve said that would’ve eased her pain. Not even the truth, which was that he was surprised at what the plastic surgeon had accomplished
Even if some scarring remained, her beauty would still be intact. Until today, he had attributed part of her attractiveness to the skill of makeup artists. But tonight there had been no makeup, no fake eyelashes, no designer wardrobe, no hairstyle created by an expensive salon. Tonight he had seen the woman, not the TV news anchor.
Gone was the self-confident, smiling face that still appeared in ads for the Channel 12 news. In its place was a hauntingly sad face that tugged on his emotions. He wished that his anger with Keith Jaxson hadn’t kept him from acting like a decent human being. It wouldn’t have cost him anything to show her some compassion.
The problem was, would compassion be all that he needed to give her? The minute she’d opened the door to him, he’d felt as if he were opening a can of worms better left undisturbed. Every instinct inside him warned him that as much as he wanted to help Kristen Kellar, he couldn’t allow himself to be drawn into her life.
After what happened when Susan died, he knew better than to let his heart dictate any course of action. Tough was what he needed to be. Emotionally and mentally. It was the only way he would survive. And he had to survive. For his daughter’s sake.
Kristen Kellar would just have to find her way out of the darkness without his help.
IN THE DAYS THAT FOLLOWED, Kristen saw little of Keith. He told her his involvement with a celebrity basketball game was taking all his free time, but she suspected that he simply didn’t want to be around her. As Gayle often said, it was a good thing Keith hadn’t become a doctor. He was seriously lacking when it came to bedside manners.
So she was surprised when he offered to take her to the doctor on the day her cast was to be removed. Knowing how much he disliked being around hospitals, she saw it as a sign that he was making an effort to fix whatever was wrong between them.
Although it was a cold, gray November day, Kristen felt as though the sun were shining when she walked out of the hospital minus the cast. On the way home, Keith invited her to lunch at the Chinese Lantern. When she suggested they get takeout, he agreed and told her he wanted to have some time alone with her.
As they sat across from each other at her kitchen table, it felt almost like old times. She could feel the tension seeping out of her body as they talked.
“It’s a good thing it’s almost winter,” she commented as they ate Szechuan chicken with their chopsticks. “My leg’s looking pretty puny.”
Keith smiled his perfect smile and said, “The good news is that you’re no longer confined to this apartment. It’s time you get out and do things. Have some fun.”
“You’re right,” she agreed, although the very thought sent a ripple of fear through her. She pushed aside her half-eaten meal and concentrated on her tea. “I’ll have to get back into things slowly.” She emphasized the word “slowly.”
He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I’m glad to hear you say that because we need to make plans.”
“Plans?”
“Mmm-hmm,” he said, turning his attention back to his food, which he ate with enthusiasm. “You know, for our trip?”
Anxiety crept through her nerves. “Trip?”
“To the Bahamas. For Thanksgiving.” He gave her a broad grin. “You haven’t forgotten about it, have you?”
She hadn’t forgotten. She knew they were supposed to meet his family for the holiday, but she’d assumed that because of what had happened those plans would be postponed. She opened a packet of artificial sweetener and added it to her tea. “You still want to go?”
“Of course. It’ll be good for us. We’ll get away from the cold. Spend some time with my family.”
She took a sip of tea, then looked at him over the cup. “Maybe we should stay here. I know how to roast a turkey. We could have a quiet dinner for two at either your place or mine.”
“On Thanksgiving?” He shot her a look of disbelief. “It’s a day to be with friends and family. My mom says there’ll be twelve of the Jaxsons there. And Bob’s already arranged the schedules so we can both be gone at the same time. Can’t you just see it? Four days and nights on the white sand beaches, lying in the sun, drinking pin
a coladas. It’ll be great for you. We’ll tan up that puny white leg of yours.” He looked at her with excitement beaming all over his face.
Kristen was not excited. The four days and nights on the beach sounded wonderful, but there was one huge problem Keith didn’t know ahout
There was no way she was ready to get back on an airplane. Not yet.
“You’re not saying anything.” Some of the excitement faded from his face.
“It sounds lovely....”
“But?”
She wet her lips before she tried to explain. “It’s not that I don’t want to go. I do. But the last time I was on a plane, it crashed.” She had to clutch her hands in her lap to keep them from trembling at the memory.
“I know it was a traumatic experience for you, but you have to remember that plane crashes are rare. Especially among the big airlines. I think your chances of ever being involved in one are something like one in 250,000.”
“Well, I lost to the odds, didn’t I?” she said grimly.
He groaned and threw down his napkin in frustration. “It’s not going to happen again, and you can’t even think there’s a possibility it might.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
“Yes, it is, because I understand the laws of probability. It’s far more dangerous to drive your Audi to work each day than it is to get on a plane.” When she didn’t say anything, he tried another tack. “Come on, honey. You’re not going to let fear keep you from doing something you want to do, are you? Do you really plan to let fear run your life?”
“You can put away your amateur psychology. It’s not going to work.” She started clearing the dishes.
“Are you saying you won’t even think about it?”
“I can’t think about it. It’s too soon.” She scraped the remains of her lunch into the garbage disposal and turned it on, not wanting to look at her fiancé. Because she knew there wouldn’t be understanding in his eyes—only impatience.
Actually, he was angry. “This isn’t like you, Kristen.”
“What isn’t like me?”
“The way you’ve been behaving. Ever since you’ve come home from the hospital, you’ve been moody and indifferent. You haven’t been interested in anything I have to say. You haven’t cared whether we even spend any time together.”
“Don’t try to make me the villain in all this, Keith. In all the time I’ve been cooped up here in my apartment, I can count on one hand the number of times you’ve visited,” she snapped, still keeping her back to him as she rinsed dishes in the sink.
“And whose fault is that?”
She turned around then and glared at him. “Well, I can tell by the tone of your voice you don’t think it’s yours.”
“Because every time I come over, I feel like I’m on a roller coaster with your emotions. You’re either angry or depressed or anxious or tired.” He rose to his feet and came to stand in front of her.
“Well, excuse me,” she drawled. “I was in a crash that almost killed me.”
“Which is all the more reason why you should be deliriously happy. You’re alive!”
Kristen stared at him in disbelief. He just didn’t get it. It was because she was alive that she was having problems. She had survived; eight others hadn’t. Not a day passed when she didn’t question why she had been given the chance to live. It was a terrible burden to carry, one that had her questioning almost everything in her life.
Keith grasped her by the shoulders. “What I want to know is what happened to the woman I fell in love with? The one who loved being with people? The one who always had a smile and chose to look at the glass as being half-full instead of half-empty?”
“I guess you’ll have to accept that she’s changed,” she said soberly.
“Well, it hasn’t been for the better.”
The look on his face sent a chill through Kristen. She didn’t want to cry, but she couldn’t keep the tears from misting in her eyes. “I’m trying to get my life back together, but I feel as if my whole world has been turned upside down. Last month there wasn’t a cloud on my horizon. Now...” Her words trailed off on a sob.
The sight of her tears made him pull her into his arms and hug her. “I know it’s been tough, but you have to get on with your life. You can’t wallow in self-pity.”
She pushed him away, swallowing back the tears. “Self-pity? Is that what you think this is?”
He groaned again. “I don’t know what it is. All I know is that you have to make some effort to move forward. I can’t take much more of this.”
“Is that some kind of ultimatum? Either I get happy or else?”
He left her question unanswered, only saying, “You’re tired. You’d better get some rest.” He started for the door, grabbing his jacket on the way. “I’ve got to go or I’ll be late for work.”
And Kristen added one more to the total number of days that had passed without his kissing her.
TYLER DIDN’T EXPECT that he’d ever see Kristen Kellar again. But it bothered him that he’d been so abrupt with her. He’d blamed her for something she hadn’t done, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he owed her an apology. When his mother showed him KC’s column one morning, he called Kristen to tell her he was coming over to see her.
According to the gossip columnist, there were problems in paradise. The engagement was all but a thing of the past and her job at the television station was looking pretty uncertain, as well. Rumor was that her injuries from the plane crash were more serious than the station had reported earlier.
None of these things should have been any concern of Tyler’s. Whatever happened to Kristen Kellar was none of his business. Or at least he didn’t want it to be. But he couldn’t forget the way she looked when he’d been at her apartment. So alone. So lost. So vulnerable.
She looked as if she needed someone to take care of her. He raked a hand through his hair as he drove. He had made a habit of staying away from women who were emotionally needy. Yet here he was driving over to check on one he hardly knew and bringing her flowers.
As he parked his car, he made a promise to himself. “You are going to go in there, see that she’s all right, apologize and leave. That’s it.”
All it took was one look at her and Tyler knew he couldn’t keep any such promise. When she opened the door, he saw that the cast was gone from her leg. Instead of wearing sweatpants cut off at the knee, she had on a pair of dark leggings and a long, baggy white sweater that hid her slender curves. Even without the cast, she looked more fragile than the last time.
She didn’t smile when she saw him. He wasn’t surprised. He’d given her no reason to do anything but scowl at him.
“Mr. Brant,” she said, standing with her hip propped against the door, her body language telling him he was not welcome.
“Tyler,” he corrected her. “These are for you.” He handed her the bouquet of flowers. “I should’ve sent them to the hospital.”
“It wasn’t necessary, but thank you.” She took the flowers from him.
“Can I come in?”
She looked as if she wanted to say no but finally stepped aside. Her hair was shiny and it bounced as she walked. She still combed it so that it fell over her left cheek. He could tell she’d been expecting him by the order in the apartment. Unlike the last time he’d visited, there were no dirty dishes in the living room.
“You’re probably wondering why I’m here,” he said as once more he took one of the chairs in the living room.
