From the Heart

or a cold shoulder didn’t work, unavailability was the next step. It was a pity they had to share the same hotel.
    Nothing can be done about that, she reminded herself. But . . . she could see to it that she spent very little time in her room and very little time alone. It should be simple enough to lose herself in the crowd of press people that were about to descend on London.
    With a small sound of disgust, she shifted in her chair. She didn’t like playing hide-and-seek. But it’s not a game, she told herself. It’s more like war—a war she forgot to fight when he got too close. Yearnings, yes, she felt yearnings when he held her, when his mouth—Shaking her head, she pushed the seat straight up. It wasn’t Thorpe, she insisted silently. It was simply time she started feeling again. Five years was a long time to bury yourself. Clearly, too clearly, she saw his face in her mind’s eye. And his smile—the charming, self-assured smile. She was definitely going to keep her distance.
    * * *
    The landing was smooth. Thorpe had had to stick to the president for another two hours before he could set off for his hotel. He had film, plenty of film to feed back to the States, along with his commentary. As he checked his watch and adjusted for the time difference, he noted CNC would have his report for the evening broadcast. With a revamp and update at eleven, he’d done his job for the day.
    He watched London whiz by. It had been a good many years since he’d been there. Six? he mused. No, seven. But he thought he could still find the pub in Soho where he had interviewed a nervous attaché from the American embassy. Then there had been that little gallery in the West End where he had met a fledgling artist with a Rubenesque body and a voice like thick cream. Fleetingly, he recalled the two very exhilarating nights they had spent together.
    Seven years ago, he thought, before he had settled in Washington. Before Liv. This London assignment was going to be different. He wasn’t interested in two exhilarating nights with an unknown woman; he wanted a lifetime. And one woman. Liv.
    Stepping out of the cab, Thorpe hefted his bag himself. He’d learned long ago to travel light. There was a damp chill in the air—the result of a drizzle which had stopped only moments before. People on the sidewalk were hunched inside jackets and moving quickly. As he stepped inside the hotel lobby, Thorpe saw the crowd of reporters checking in. His hopes to get to his room for a shower before the briefing were immediately aborted.
    “Thorpe.”
    Shifting his bag, he smiled at Liv. She nodded politely.
    “What have they got set up for us?” he asked, and was told there was a temporary press room on the second floor. “Okay, let’s head up and I’ll brief you.” Before Liv could lose herself in the crowd, he had her arm. “How was your flight?”
    “Uneventful.” Knowing she could hardly snatch her arm from his without causing comment, Liv answered casually. “And yours?”
    “Long.” He grinned at her as they squeezed into the elevator. “I missed you.”
    “Stop it, Thorpe,” she said crisply.
    “Stop missing you? I’d be glad to if you’d stop avoiding me.”
    “I haven’t been avoiding you. I’ve been busy.” The crush in the elevator had her pressed tight to his side. After shifting his bag to his other hand, Thorpe slid an arm around her shoulders.
    “Crowded in here,” he said amiably when she shot him a narrow glance. Above the smells of tobacco, old cologne and light sweat, her scent lifted, sweet and clean. He had to control a desire to bury his face in her hair and lose himself in it.
    “You’ll make a scene, won’t you?” she said softly, under the hum of conversation.
    “If you’d like me to,” he agreed. “I want to kiss you, Liv,” he whispered, bending close to her ear. “Right here, right now.”
    “Don’t!” There was no room to push away from him. She could only look up and glare. It was her first mistake.
    His mouth was inches from hers. His eyes, calmly amused, stared back into hers. There was a surge of need, a devastating sexual pull. Her mind went blank.
    When the elevator doors opened, people began to file out around them. Liv stood still, trapped not by the arm around her shoulders but by the look of quiet, patient knowledge in his eyes.
    “Come on, T.C., let’s get this show on the road.”
    Thorpe didn’t answer. He smiled at Liv and led her into the corridor.