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Her already coloured cheeks went a few shades darker, and her throat moved.
‘I have been thinking of you all day,’ he murmured for her ears only, delighting at the way her eyes pulsed at his words.
He’d dreamed about her again. She’d been the first thing on his mind when his eyes had opened that morning. By lunchtime he’d taken to checking his watch every few minutes, the time ticking down until their prearranged meeting outside her work offices slowing to a lethargic snail’s pace. He assured himself this restlessness, this yearning to see her again was due to his impatience to get the ball rolling in the fake relationship they were about to establish. He desired Carrie but more than anything his desire was to protect his business from the lies she had told her zealous colleagues about him.
In a clearer tone that anyone passing would hear he added, ‘I know it must sound crazy but I was hoping you would let me take you out for dinner.’
She swallowed, her eyes pulsing again before she blinked it away. ‘That sounds totally crazy but…that would be lovely.’
‘Excellent. Can I give you a lift home?’
‘If it’s not out of your way.’
‘I wouldn’t care if it was.’ He grinned then opened the back door for her and followed her in.
The moment the door closed them in, her demeanour changed. Carrie perched herself rigidly beside him, knees tucked tightly together, hands clasped on her lap.
Once they were moving in the heavy London traffic, she said in a clipped voice, ‘That must have been difficult for you, having to ask politely rather than just bark orders at me.’
‘It was a nightmare. I’m used to people asking how high when I tell them to jump,’ he replied drolly. ‘How did it go today?’
She rested her head back on the leather seat and closed her eyes. ‘We had a meeting about you. I said my tip-off had been wrong and that the person who gave it to me is refusing to answer my calls.’
‘And that sounds plausible?’
‘I’ve made it sound like my source is avoiding me. I’ll give it a few days and say I met up with him and that he confessed he’d made it up for money.’
‘And does that sound plausible?’ He watched her response closely, looking for signs of an untruth or the bending of facts.
‘It’s not uncommon. We do pay for tips that are verified and lead to a story being printed, but it doesn’t happen much. Most of the people who give us tip-offs do it because it’s the right thing to do—we’re not a tabloid, we deal with weighty stories that are often in the national interest.’
‘Will they want to check with your source?’
‘Our sources are sacrosanct. We never reveal them without the source’s permission, not even to each other.’ Carrie rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the tension in them. Her colleagues had seemingly taken her story at face value—Andreas’s instincts had been proven right in that regard—but the cramped feeling of guilt had spread its way inside her and through to her muscles.
It nauseated her to think of all the barefaced lies she had told her colleagues in recent weeks. When she’d embarked on the single-minded task of bringing Andreas down, she’d been so certain of his guilt and so filled with anger at what he’d done to her sister that she had smothered her own screaming conscience. Now she was lying to her supportive colleagues for a second time but what else could she do? If she didn’t go ahead with Andreas’s plan then her sister’s name would be dragged into the world’s consciousness and whatever recovery she’d made would be destroyed. Violet would be back on the drugs quicker than a wannabe vegetarian lion passing by a wounded gazelle; unable to resist.
‘How did you explain my learning your true identity?’ Andreas asked.
She could happily scream. She’d had almost a whole day away from him but he’d been breaking into her thoughts the whole time. She might as well have taken him to work with her. Her morning had been devoted to talking about him in the staff meeting, her afternoon fielding female colleagues’ whispered questions about what he was really like, if he was as handsome in the flesh as in pictures…
Every time she’d been asked her cheeks had flushed. It had been excruciating. Half the office thought she had a crush on him without her having to say a word.
Andreas would be delighted if she told him, which of course she would not.
Instead, she told him in as cool a voice as she could muster—anything to counteract the skipping warmth being back with him was inducing, ‘I said your PA had learned my references didn’t check out after all—at least that wasn’t a lie—and that by the time this was discovered, I was already convinced of your innocence. Exactly as we agreed.’
