скачать книгу бесплатно
“And you believe you have something that belongs to me?”
“You must know what I’m talking about, Simone. Your diary.”
Thinking fast now, she realised she had to play for time, needed space to think, to work out a suitable response.
“Mr Tanner—uh—Ryan, I have people queuing up in the office here. I’ll have to call you back. Say in fifteen minutes?”
“OK, no problem.” He gave her his number.
“This is your private number?”
“Mine and only mine.”
Dropping the receiver, she sank back into her chair, cowered with shock for a second or two, then jumped to her feet and began to pace the office, her mind racing at a hundred miles an hour. What could she do? How on earth was she going to handle this nightmare?
There was only one answer: very carefully.
She wished she knew how her diary had ended up in Ryan Tanner’s hands. Had someone sold it to him? How many people had read it?
Fighting panic, she tried to unscramble her thoughts. She had committed the sordid details of her secret to paper and she’d exposed Belle and Claire too. And she’d recorded the pact she’d made with Belle and Claire—their commitments to find important people from their past, to right past wrongs.
How could she have been so thoughtless? So careless?
Oh, help.
Oh, hell!
Keep calm, girl.
Yes, she had to stay calm. If she kept her head, she might be able to find a way to deflect Ryan Tanner, to wriggle out of this. But she had to handle things very carefully, had to get him answering her questions, not the other way round.
She waited twenty-seven minutes, twenty-seven nerve-racking, nail-biting, agonising minutes before she rang him back.
“Hello, Mr Tanner.”
Her heart thumped so loudly it filled her ears and she could hardly hear his reply.
“Simone, thanks for calling back.”
“I’m rather busy, so I can’t speak for long, but I do appreciate your willingness to return my lost property.” Cringe. She sounded way too prim and uptight. She tried again, more casually. “Perhaps you could drop the book off at our front desk? Any time that’s convenient would be fine.”
“Well…Simone.”
She did her best to ignore the totally annoying coiling sensation deep inside her when he said her name, warming it with his dark midnight voice.
“There are a couple of things I’d like to speak to you about.”
“I’m sorry, Mr Tanner. I’m not interested in talking to you. Certainly not before I verify that this book is mine.”
“It’s yours, Simone.”
She clenched the receiver so tightly it should have snapped in two.
Ryan Tanner could be planning anything—even blackmail.
“How—” Her voice came out squeaky and scared. She paused, tried again. “How did the diary come into your possession?”
“Rainy day. Sydney Airport. Lovely girl waiting for a taxi. A backpack with a side pocket. Any of that ring a bell?”
Simone stifled a cry. This guy had been there? He’d been watching her at the airport?
Her frantic fingers twisted the phone cord. Was he stalking her?
She thought of the hot-looking guy she’d caught checking her out. Surely he wasn’t Tanner? He hadn’t looked like a stalker.
“So…so what are you saying, Mr Tanner—Ryan? You want to meet?”
“Why not? What about lunch?”
She needed more time, needed to find out as much as she could about this guy. “I—I’m busy today. How about tomorrow? Can we meet somewhere tomorrow?”
“Why wait? Couldn’t you make time today?”
She sighed. Perhaps it would be better to meet him; otherwise he might track her to her home. Best to get this over, to be rid of him.
Her throat was dry and she swallowed. “All right. Where do you want to meet?”
“How about the Jade Dragon restaurant in Chinatown? Unless you’re tired of Chinese?”
“I’ll be there at one.”
CHAPTER THREE
RYAN felt unusually on edge as he headed for Chinatown.
Had Simone Gray cast a spell on him?
How else could he explain why he’d invited her to lunch rather than taking the simple option of sticking her diary in the post or dropping it off at City Girl’s front desk?
How else could he explain his need to see her, to check again exactly why she’d stood out from the thousands of travellers at the airport?
In the photo in City Girl, her pretty eyes were sparkling, her mouth curved with laughter. He’d been entranced. Seeing a picture of her was like hearing a teasing scrap of enchanting music. He wanted to hear the whole song.
Under other circumstances, he might have gone out of his way to impress her at this meeting. Flashiest restaurant in town. Top wines. Waiter primed to fuss over her.
But she was already in panic mode and Ryan suspected that kind of carry-on would only make her more suspicious. Besides, it wasn’t really his style.
As he passed through the traditional paifang gate into Sydney’s busy, bustling Chinatown, he caught the tempting aromas of lemon grass, ginger and chilli rising from woks and he felt strangely nervous about this meeting—almost first date nervous.
Crazy, given his age and his track record with women, and the fact that, as far as she was concerned, this was so not a date.
He reached the Jade Dragon, stepped out of the sunlight into its darkened interior and took a moment for his eyes to adjust.
Simone was already there, seated at a small table on the far side, facing the entrance. A red lantern cast a rosy glow over her, illuminating the shock of recognition in her eyes.
She remembered. Remembered that fleeting moment last week when they’d locked gazes at the airport.
A tiny rocket of hope launched inside him, but it was quickly doused, as her surprised disbelief changed to clear disappointment, then displeasure.
Not the best of beginnings.
Nevertheless, he smiled as he made his way to her, kept smiling as he held out his hand.
“Hello, Simone.”
She ignored his attempt to be friendly, simply looked up at him with wary eyes and a tight, no-nonsense mouth. He took the seat opposite her.
Forgot to breathe.
Close up, she was even lovelier than he’d remembered—in spite of her aloofness. Her face, framed by waves of soft, wheat-gold hair, was classically oval and beautifully symmetrical. And there was a breath-robbing quality about her perfect skin, the delicacy of her nose and mouth, the vividness of her eyes—deeply blue and darkly lashed.
She was simply dressed, but the very simplicity of her pale blue dress and the fine gold chain about her neck served as a perfect foil for her beauty. The dress showed off her golden tan to perfection. It took every ounce of self-restraint to refrain from telling her straight out that she was, quite possibly, the loveliest woman he’d ever met.
How crazy would that be? The frost and wariness in her eyes were enough to assure Ryan that Simone Gray wouldn’t give a flying fig.
Angling for a safe opening, he asked, “Have you ever eaten here before?”
“No.” She didn’t return his smile. “But I’ve checked out the menu and it looks OK.”
“So you’re ready to order?”
She nodded.
He beckoned to a waiter and Simone ordered fish in black bean sauce. Ryan chose Mongolian lamb. They both skipped the wine list and ordered jasmine tea.
In a matter of moments the waiter was gone and they were alone again.
Across the table their gazes met and Ryan caught the tiniest flare of interest in her eyes, but it was so quickly doused, like a hastily snuffed candle, that he decided he’d imagined it.
He cleared his throat. “I genuinely meant what I said about your travel piece in City Girl. I really liked it. I’ve been on the Nepalese side of the Himalayas, but not in China, and I think you definitely captured the atmosphere of the region. It’s a fine piece of writing—conveyed a great sense of immediacy, of being there with you.”
Her right eyebrow lifted. “Mr Tanner—”
“Simone.” He offered her his most charming smile. “I’m sure you can force yourself to call me Ryan.”
She blinked, then managed a stiff quarter-smile. “Ryan, we both know I’m not here for a literary critique.” Sitting back, with her slim hands folded in front of her, she studied him grimly. “And I’m sure you’ll agree that my story might have had a greater sense of immediacy, not to mention accuracy, if I’d been able to consult my diary.”
He shrugged. “You made it rather difficult for me to return it. There were absolutely no contact details.”
She dismissed this with an impatient wave of her hand. “I didn’t expect to lose it. I’m always exceptionally careful.”
“I’m sure you are.”
She shot him a narrow look as if she suspected he was teasing her.
“Unfortunately,” he added, “your taxi driver wasn’t so careful.”
Simone’s eyes widened.
“The diary fell out while he was cramming your backpack into the boot.”
“I thought something like that must have happened. I rang the cab company, but no one handed it in.”
Ryan sighed. “I rang the airport lost property, but no one had listed any contact details for a lost diary.”
Tense silence fell as she sat watching him, challenging him with her deep, blue, disapproving eyes. “You did bring it, didn’t you?”
No point in playing games. Ryan took the book out of his coat pocket and set it on the table.
Her mouth tightened as she stared at it. “I suppose you’ve read every word.”
“As a matter of fact, I haven’t.”
She shot him a sharp, doubtful look, bristling with disbelief, and then, with an impatient cry, she reached for the book. Almost instinctively Ryan’s hand closed over hers. Why? He couldn’t quite explain.
Simone gasped and Ryan felt a fine tremor pass through her, through him. She dropped her gaze and he saw the thick half-moons of her lashes and the faint golden-brown dusting of colour on her eyelids, the pink gloss on her lips.
“Why don’t you believe me, Simone?”
She wouldn’t look at him.
He persisted. “If our roles were reversed, would you have read my diary?”
For a split second she looked up, her blue eyes momentarily bewildered, shining with a suspect sheen. Her pink mouth tightened. “Why do you want to know that? Do you keep a diary?”
“No,” he admitted. “But that’s not the point.”
For the first time she smiled, but her smile was cool and intensely sceptical. “I think the point is that you’re trying to sidetrack me with hypothetical arguments.”
Sighing, he let go of her hand. It was very clear that it didn’t matter what he said; she would never believe him, had no intention of trusting him. Crazy how much that bothered him.
Simone pulled the diary across the table towards her, flipped through its pages, casting frantic glances here and there, and then snapped it shut. Looked worried.
Their meals arrived and she put the diary in her handbag and busied herself pouring green tea into tiny white cups for both of them. The food looked delicious, smelled divine.
Hoping to defuse the tension, Ryan picked up his chopsticks and clicked them together. “I guess you’re an expert at using these now.”
Ignoring him, Simone stabbed her sticks nervously into her fish. “I think I’ve lost my appetite.”
