Heartfire (24 page)

Vandemeer was legendary at succeeding in any business venture he jumped into.  That was the type of genius he was.

He went on, "The question is, can you give up one kind of excitement for another?  You'd be stuck in New Haven most of the time, but I think the challenge of producing other segments for us would more than make up for the traveling you'd give up.  And, of course, there could be some traveling if you want it for those special times when we need someone right in the thick of events."

"You'll be
here
?  Not in New York?"

"There are advantages, cost-cutting measures becoming ever more important.  With digital technology, New Haven is perfect."

"Producer and on-air host," she said more to herself than to him.

"I know you're covering the Summit.  I'd like your answer when you get back."  He gave her a sly smile.  "I don't suppose you could give me your decision today?"

She shook her head, mentally listing the pros and cons, thinking about Max and Ryan.  "This would be a big change.  I wouldn't have much time to freelance."

"Maybe when you're on vacation," he teased.

What would Max think if she took the job in New Haven?  Would he realize she needed to be close to him and Ryan?  Would he accept the career move as a compromise?  Would he understand she wanted to stay here and love him?

***

Tessa had planned to talk to Max about the job offer, but after they put Ryan to bed and she stopped in her room to fluff her hair, he'd disappeared.  He'd honed his avoidance skills to an art form.

She hurried through the first floor, her palms sweaty.  This conversation could be the most important one of her life.  Going down the hallway to his bedroom, she saw his door standing open.  When she peeked inside, she felt she was trespassing.  Black socks lay in balls beside the bed.  His jeans tilted over the side.  One of the drawers in his dresser wasn't quite closed.  The king-sized bed drew her eye over and over.

Pulling herself away, she went to the kitchen.  Where could he be?

Listening to the house's silence for a hint, she heard a thump-thump she thought she recognized.  She went to the door and opened it.  The garage light cast its glow on the driveway.  Max pounded the basketball against the pavement over and over.

Closing the door behind her, she crossed to the driveway.  The November chill nipped at her and she folded her arms, rubbing above her elbows.  Max didn't hear her or see her as she approached.

He was amazing to watch.  The white T-shirt was damp with perspiration and molded to his shoulders, showing the play and purpose of every push on the ball.  His navy jogging pants rode low on his hips, the string dangling from the waistband.

Abruptly, he stopped dribbling, pivoted and shot for the basket.  The ball hit the backboard, circled the rim and fell into the net.  Max caught it, slapping it against the macadam in the same driving rhythm as before.

Tessa didn't know how long she stood watching, fascinated by this man she loved.

***

Max couldn't work off the wired feeling that had been fed by worry and concern as each day had passed with Tessa in California.  What was she doing?  Was she in danger?  And when she came back, she'd acted as if she hadn't been away with her smiles and her damn green eyes inviting him to talk to her, be friends, forget she'd be leaving again in a few days, this time for a long time.  She had a life.  She'd taken time out of it for him and Ryan.  So why in blazes couldn't he be grateful?

Because...he didn't want her to leave!  He slammed the basketball against the garage door with every ounce of strength he possessed and watched it bounce crazily toward the house.

Then he saw her.  With her arms wrapped around her, she was protecting herself from the cold.  He didn't feel cold.  He'd only felt heat since Tessa had returned.  A burning, consuming heat that defied who he was and who she was and a life they couldn't share.

He knew he looked like hell.  He was sweated, breeze-blown and disheveled.  Tucking his T-shirt more securely into his jogging pants, he muttered, "What are you doing out here?"

"Looking for you."  Her gaze attached to his hand as it slid from the back of his waist to the front.

Feeling his body respond to her hungry stare, he answered gruffly, "You've found me.  What do you need?"  He couldn't tell in the play of shadows and light, but he thought he saw her blush.

"I wanted to talk to you.  But that can wait.  What about a little one-on-one?"

Damn, if she didn't usually take him by surprise.  "You think you have a chance?"

"There's no harm in trying.  I can use the workout."

"You might want to get your sweatshirt—"

Scooping up the ball, she bounced it in front of her.  "I'm fine.  Let's play."

He was amazed at her speed if not her finesse.  And she was sneaky.  Slipping under his arm, sidestepping and managing a shot he never expected her to make.  She couldn't guard him, though.  All he had to do was reach over her...around her.  Trouble was he could smell her, feel her, touch her, and she was driving him crazy with her hair tousled, loose curls bobbing around her face, her breasts lifting her sweater each time she breathed, her tongue snaking over her lips as she concentrated on defending her territory.

Eyes on the ball, she danced in front of him, her arms ready to reach, lower or grab.

He thought he was quick enough.  He thought he could out-maneuver her.  After all, he was a lot bigger, a lot stronger and a lot more experienced.  He jumped.  She blocked.  The ball sailed high and off-kilter.  Her cheek met his chest, his arms went around her, their feet tangled and they fell against the garage door.  His shoulder hit the wood, but he held Tessa to him to protect her as much as he could.

Once they were steady, he felt her take a deep breath and wondered if he was crushing her.  Loosening his grip, he lowered his chin.  Tessa's hold on him didn't ease.  But she raised her head and the longing in her beautiful green eyes burned into his soul.  Coherent thought, logic, reality, swirled around in his head as passion exploded.  His lips sealed to hers, branding her, claiming her, possessing her.

Plunging into her mouth, his tongue swept against hers with a ferocious intensity he couldn't restrain.  She responded by stroking and tasting him, digging her fingers into his back and pressing against him.  Inflamed beyond caution and control, he slipped his hand under the hem of her sweater to touch her softness and assuage his need.

When she arched into his palm, he hastily pulled up her bra and finally felt her in his hand.  She was everything he imagined.  Everything he could want or need.  His finger sought and found her nipple—peaked, hardened, ready for him.  Brushing his finger back and forth, back and forth, she moaned into his mouth and slid her hands down his back into the waistband of his pants.  She pulled out his T-shirt, and when he felt her fingers on his backside, he separated her legs with his knee.

He broke off the kiss and took a detour down her neck so he could hear her as well as taste her.  Each small, erotic sound took him to a new height of arousal until Tessa was all he heard, thought or felt.  Pushing her sweater and bra out of his way, he bent to her breast.

As his lips closed around her, she cried out.  And when the tip of his tongue probed her, she murmured, "I love you."

This was a Tessa he didn't know, one he'd only dreamed about.  Responsive, loving, free.

Free?

The cold night air wound around him as a more penetrating cold invaded his heart.  She wasn't free.  She was married to a job that took her from country to country, through fires and wars and floods.  His love could never replace the excitement of her work.  His love and Ryan's would only tie her down.  She'd resent him, she'd resent them, and he'd lose her just as he'd lost her nine years ago.

Tessa had never intended to say those three words just now, just this way.  But the emotion had escalated and overflowed from her heart, until the words were as natural as Max's kiss, his touch, her body's ready response.  Had he heard her?  Had he realized she'd taken the biggest risk of her entire life?

When his mouth left her breast and he straightened, she thought he was going to respond.  She thought she was finally going to learn how he felt—

He stepped back as if she were the last woman on earth he wanted to touch.  The expression on his face was so stony, she wondered where the passionate man who'd been creating a firestorm inside her had gone.  "Max?"

"What are we doing to each other, Tessa?  Five days and you'll be gone.  Why do you think I've been avoiding you?  So this kind of thing
wouldn't
happen."

She reached out to touch his arm.

He stepped back.  "Don't play with fire.  I'm at my limit, Tessa.  Go into the house before I forget I'm a gentleman and I take advantage of a miserable situation."  When she didn't move, he said louder, "Go on.  Find something else to do to make the time pass before you're off on your next assignment."

His words hurt as much as his rejection.  She'd given him her heart and he didn't want it.  He wanted her gone.  She was a temptation...a miserable situation.  How often she'd felt like that in the past.  In the orphanage, in the foster homes, in school.  If Max loved her, he'd accept her the way she was.  He'd accept her career and be willing to work on some sort of compromise.  She'd said she loved him, and he didn't care.

So why would he care if she told him about the job in New Haven?  She could never be what he wanted.  And she'd learned long ago, if she wasn't herself, she was nobody at all.  He wanted her to leave him alone, so she'd do just that.

Fighting tears that would serve absolutely no purpose, she straightened her sweater, squared her shoulders, avoided Max's gaze and marched into the house, wishing it were her home, wishing Max and Ryan were her life.

Chapter Fifteen

Silence surrounded Max as he stepped into the kitchen Thursday afternoon and closed the back door.  The quiet seemed unnatural.  Usually, he heard Ryan playing or chattering, Tessa rattling pots and pans or talking on the phone.  Then he remembered.  Last night Tessa had said she'd pick up Ryan at school today and take him shopping for new sneakers and jeans.  He was outgrowing everything.

The past week had been pure torture for Max, seeing Tessa, living with her, avoiding her because it hurt too much to love her and not ask her to stay.  He couldn't ask this time.  It had to be
her
choice, a free choice.  No pressure.  No coercion.

Tugging down his tie, Max picked up the mail lying by the phone.  The light blinked on the answering machine.  He automatically pushed the button.

"Tessa, Vandemeer here.  I left a message on your cell, but thought I'd try this number too.  Just a  double reminder that I need your decision about the job with our network as soon as possible.  I'll wait until after the Summit if I have to, but there's something else I'd like to talk to you about, too.  I'll be available.  Give me a call."

A cable news channel.  So Vandemeer was going to do it.  Rumors had multiplied and Max had read something online about the man being as rich as Bill Gates and his news channel could possibly be based in New Haven.

Apparently Vandemeer had offered Tessa a job.  A permanent position?  Why hadn't she said something?

Max slapped the envelopes in his hand back down.  The answer was simple.  Tessa wasn't going to take it.  If she did, she'd be around New Haven more.  Obviously she didn't want that.