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I thought I already had.
“We’ve had other cyclone warnings in Darwin before,” she said, “that never amounted to much, and there tends to be complacency—”
Out of patience, I looked straight at the camera. “This will be asignificantweather event. Listen to emergency service announcements. If you don’t need to be here, don’t be here.”
I turned then and went inside, locking the door behind me. I didn’t have time to dwell on how badly that interview had gone because for the few next hours I had more data, more comms with other agencies, and no time to be concerned with second-rate reporting.
Another news van pulled into the yard, a man in a suit this time knocked on the door, and I ignored them.
And then my phone began to ring with unknown numbers. How they got my number, I’ll never know. I could only assume they got my name from the interview I’d done earlier... The first few callers claimed to be with some news channels I’d not heard of—which I declined to comment for—and after a while, I switched my phone to silent.
After that, in my little dark office, doing a dozen things at once, I completely lost track of time. It wasn’t until a familiar Range Rover pulled into the yard that I checked my watch. It was after six. But then a not-familiar man got out of the car.
I did a double take on the security camera.
I mean, he was familiar.
But oh boy, did he look different.
Tully took the steps two at a time and I dashed to unlock the door before he could try to open it. I swung the door inward and looked him up and down. “Uh, hello, stranger,” I said. “While youareincredibly gorgeous, I won’t be buying anything you’re selling as I already have a boyfriend.”
His smile quirked upward, confused. “What?”
I gestured to his suit pants, lace-up shoes, and crisp white button-down shirt, his hair pulled back into a small ponytail. “Who are you and where is the Tully who wears old clothes and no shoes?”
He rolled his eyes. “I told you I wear proper clothes to work. Do you not like it?”
I glanced down at how his shirt was tucked in at his narrow waist, how the column of his neck looked against the open collar. His hair... pulled back. “Oh yes. As I said, gorgeous. But I like the shorts with the rip in them and the threadbare shirt just as much.”
He grinned, and his voice dropped to a sultry whisper. “And I like it when you turn down handsome strangers because you have a boyfriend.”
He looked at my mouth and licked his lips, stepping in for a kiss.
I pulled him in, then closed and locked the door behind him. He leaned up against the wall and pulled me against him, his hand on my hip. “My sexy and smart boyfriend was all over the news today. On the TV and everything.”
Well, that was a mood killer.
“Oh god.” I sighed. “Was I terrible? I wasn’t expecting an interview and I hadn’t prepared anything, and she asked me stupid questions. Then I had more people turn up and so many phone calls I turned my phone off.”
He took my hand and studied my fingers. “I know. I called several times. I was coming to see if you were okay. I was worried.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. I cupped his face and kissed him softly. “I’ve been so busy.”
“I assumed that was the case, but still... I had to come and see if you were okay.” He pulled me against him again, his back against the wall, his hand snaking up from my hip to my jaw, and he brought my face in for another kiss.
A deeper kiss, open mouths and a taste of his tongue.
Damn.
He made me forget where I was, what I was supposed to be doing. I almost forgot how to breathe.
Until my stomach growled so loud it made him laugh.
“Hungry for something?” he murmured, his lips wet and swollen.
“Yes,” I breathed, touching my fingertip to his bottom lip. I went to kiss him some more, but then my stomach growled again, and he held my face, his smile now gone.
“What did you eat today?”
