He laughed and tore off a bite, chewing contemplatively. He swallowed and added, “Personally, I think it fits just fine.”
From across the room, she watched as his eyes darkened with something wild and dangerous, and she forgot all about trying to pull at the hem of the shirt. A delicious warmth flashed up the sides of her neck and infused her cheeks. But just as quickly as the look was there, it was gone again. As if he forced it down, made it disappear. His mouth tightened and the sexy playfulness in his expression changed.
He reached around and grabbed his suit jacket hanging over the back of the chair. He threw it to her. “Sorry, I should have paid more attention when I bought the shirt. You can use my coat to cover up.”
Slightly confused, Tess shrugged her shoulders into his jacket. She bent her head and rolled up the sleeves to keep them from flopping over her hands. His scent, now so familiar that it felt a part of her, clung to his jacket and surrounded her with his presence. She inhaled deeply.
But even as she wrapped the front around her and crossed her arms to keep it closed, Tess knew she didn’t want to cover up. Didn’t want to hide herself from him.
She’d liked it when his gaze rolled over her length with a smoky seductiveness. It created a delicious flutter deep inside her belly, and Tess knew she longed to indulge in that sensation. But Ryan had turned off the warmth and seductiveness as if he was shutting off a switch. All of sudden, he seemed closed off and locked down.
Disappointed, she grabbed the other sub and slipped into the chair across from him.
He twisted off the top of one of the colas and held it out to her. “Do you want a glass?”
Tess shook her head. “No, thanks. From the looks of this room, I’d rather take my chances with the bottle.”
She took the cola, purposely allowing her fingers to trail across the back of his hand, her palm caressing his knuckles and the light dusting of dark hair.
His gaze met hers for the briefest of moments and she saw the sparks of need flare in the depths of his eyes. She wet her lips, waiting. But his dark lashes lowered, shielding his eyes from her and he let go of the bottle. Before she could speak, he leaned down and picked up the remote sitting on the bed.
He clicked on the TV. “Let’s watch the news. I’m curious to see if there’s anything about our escape from the center. It’s not every day that a truck crashes through the gates of a research center.”
Swallowing against the lump of disappointment that rose in her throat, Tess nodded. “I doubt Flynn would let anything leak, but it’s worth a look.”
They were already several bites into their subs by the time the late news started. The newscaster launched into a quick clip of local interest, a story about a possible break in the downtown water main and then shifted to the national news.
Tess had her bottle of soda halfway to her mouth when the woman’s voice filtered into her awareness. “In an interview today, Vice President Starling revealed that he would be making a major announcement at a reception being held in his honor Thursday night.”
A sense of heightened excitement seemed to infuse the anchorwoman’s voice. “Insiders speculate that the vice president will announce that he will
The scene behind the news anchor changed to show a youthful and enthusiastic Starling waving to a crowd at a fund-raising party. The faces of the people in the crowd held a certain rapture-not much different than the rapture seen in teenagers at their favorite pop star’s concert.
An ugly buzzing sound droned in Tess’s ear, and the vice president’s image on the screen wavered and then blurred. She blinked, trying to clear her vision. Oh God, what now? She felt as though she were slipping into a waking nightmare.
Helpless, Tess clung to the newswoman’s soothing tones.
“Enjoying unprecedented popularity-a popularity never before experienced by a sitting vice president-Starling can only be labeled a valuable asset when it comes to President Rone’s reelection. Rone, who is viewed by many Americans as morose, brooding and horribly out of touch with the people, has little chance of being reelected without Starling on the ticket. If Starling deserts the ticket, many insiders predict that President Rone will be in for the fight of his life and that reelection will no longer be within his reach.”
The screen behind the anchorwoman changed again, showing a crowd of longshoremen gathered around a tieless Starling. The men surrounding him were clapping him on the back and vying to shake his hand. A breeze off the water behind them ruffled Starling’s wheat-colored hair, giving him a youthful and movie-starish quality.
“The vice president’s chief advisor, Eli Morgan, refused to comment on the validity of any of these rumors. He has asked that people wait until the vice president is ready to make an official announcement before speculating as to what this is all about. In spite of the rumblings rocketing through the power brokers in Washington, Vice President Starling has stayed above the hoopla by concentrating on his goodwill trip to South America. He is expected to return to the United States later today.”
“Are you okay, Tess?” Ryan asked.
Startled, Tess looked up, the bottle of cola falling from her nerveless fingers and hitting the table with a thud.
From what seemed like a great distance away, she watched as Ryan jumped up, dodging the stream of liquid that spread out rapidly across the table. He grabbed a handful of napkins and quickly blotted up the spill, his eyes watching her with concern. But he didn’t speak or try to intervene. She knew that by now he’d recognized her pattern and was waiting her out to see if a new flashback would be brought to her consciousness.
But even as this thought flashed through her brain, an excruciating jolt of pain shot through her head and Tess cried out, and her body jerked, sending her shoulders slamming back against the chair.
She clamped both hands to her head and rubbed, desperately trying to soothe away the pain shooting up from between her eyes.
“Easy, Tess? Just let it come. Don’t fight it. Talk to me, tell me what you’re feeling.”
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out, and then suddenly he was beside her. His warmth and concern seemed to surround and enclose her even as her body shook with waves of pain. His voice, smooth and caressing, seemed to wrap her in a cocoon of safety. God, she loved that voice. It was her anchor. Her salvation. And in the darkness surrounding her, Tess struggled to reach out for it, to hold on to it before she slipped away into whatever ugliness hugged the surface below.
He knelt next to her, his hands on hers as he tried to draw them away from her face.
Tess lifted her head, dazed. Confused. Her vision was blurred and Ryan’s face disappeared into a brilliant kaleidoscope of color. She blinked trying to see through the shifting colors.
But instead of the motel room, the frightening image of the man lying in a spreading pool of red was back. The people around him cried and screamed. And as she watched, the pool widened and grew at an alarming rate. Slowly the crowd seemed to step back and she could see the man’s face. She jumped, a small whimper slipping from her lips. The man was Vice President Starling.
Her legs trembled, and her fingers tightened on the arm of the chair, but she didn’t fight the image. She allowed herself to totally immerse herself in it. As she watched the reel play out in her head, the pool of blood widened and soaked the trademark wheat-colored hair. Starling’s eyes were open, staring vacantly up at her.
Tess shuddered and gasped for breath. Bile rose in her throat and threatened to drown her. She sucked hot air, her entire body shaking with shock and rage.
“Tess, open your eyes. Talk to me. Tell me what you see so I can help you.” Ryan’s voice cut through the image and she struggled to concentrate on it, to hold on to the calm, deep tones like a drowning victim clung to a life ring. If she ever needed Ryan Donovan it was now.
“I-I can’t breathe,” she gasped. Another shock of excruciating pain washed over her and she whimpered. “Hea-head hurts.”
Ryan’s hand stroked the center of her back, directly between her shoulder blades, and the soft timber of his voice reached down through the pain and calmed her. “Don’t panic, Tess. Slow, deep breaths. You’re okay. You’re going to be fine.”
But his words were no sooner out of his mouth than the pain shifted, hitting the pit of her stomach and doubling her over. I’m not going to make it, she thought. I’m going to lose it right here.
