The Way Home by Irene Hannon Read Free Book Online Page B

gaze.
    â€œI’m sorry I jumped to conclusions,” she said quietly.
    â€œI have a feeling you had reason to.”
    She conceded the point with a nod. “I don’t always meet the most ethical people in my work.”
    â€œI can imagine.”
    She looked down again. “Listen, why don’t you just go home and get some rest? You’ve been through enough tonight. Just forget about the date, okay?”
    Cal frowned and studied her profile: smooth forehead, finely shaped nose, firm chin, the slender sweep of her neck. At the moment she looked more like a fragile and vulnerable woman than a brash reporter. An unexpected surge of protectiveness swept over him, and his frown deepened. Now what was that all about? He didn’t even like Amy Winter! And she’d just let him off the hook, released him from the obligation to go on the date he’d been dreading. This was his chance to make a quick exit. Except, strangely enough, he suddenly didn’t want to leave.
    When the silence lengthened, Amy glanced up cautiously and tried to smile. “Are you still here? I thought you’d be out the door in three seconds after that reprieve.”
    So had he. Why was he still sitting here? For a man who spent his days finding answers to difficult questions, this one left him stumped. Maybe it was simply his sense of fairness, he rationalized. After all, she’d paid good money for this evening, and he owed her dinner. That was certainly the easy answer—even if he had the uncomfortable feeling it wasn’t the right one. But now was not the time to analyze his motivation for wanting to stay. He could think about that later. In fact, he would think about it later—whether he wanted to or not, he realized ruefully. And he had a feeling that the answer was going to be a whole lot more complicated than simple fairness. Still, it was a good enough response to Amy’s question.
    â€œI owe you dinner. And I pay my debts.”
    She hesitated. Then, with a little shrug, she capitulated. “We could at least make it another night, if you’d prefer.”
    â€œLike I said, as long as you don’t mind having an escort who attracts attention, I’m game.”
    With or without the black eye, Cal Richards would attract attention, Amy thought. Tall, distinguished, handsome—he’d turn women’s heads in any room he entered. If he thought the black eye was the only reason he’d be noticed, he was either slow or totallywithout vanity. And she knew it wasn’t the former. The fact that it must be the latter was refreshing. In her world, appearance—for both men and women—was at least as important as skill and often received far more attention. To discover someone who seemed totally unaware of his appeal was a rare—and pleasant—occurrence.
    â€œI’m used to attention,” she hedged.
    â€œI’m sure you are. Even Mitch recognized you. I imagine that gets old.”
    She shrugged. “Not yet. It’s still kind of fun, most of the time.”
    Cal shook his head. “Well, to each his own. Personally I prefer anonymity.”
    â€œThen maybe we should cancel tonight. Because between the two of us, I guarantee we’re going to attract attention.”
    He frowned. “Well, I have an idea, although it’s not much of a date for five hundred dollars,” he said slowly.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œLet’s have dinner here.”
    She stared at him. “Are you serious?”
    â€œAbsolutely.”
    Amy hesitated, then shrugged. “Okay.” She took a quick mental inventory of her freezer. “I think I have a couple of frozen microwave dinners. And I might have a—”
    â€œWhoa!” He held up his hands. “I wasn’t asking you to supply the food.”
    She frowned. “Then what did you have in mind? Pizza?”
    He grinned. “Hardly. Will you trust me on this?”
    She shrugged.