The Bronzed Hawk (3 page)

O’Brien’s eyes were narrowed and no longer lazy. “I see,” he said slowly. “And you’re threatening to reveal my little indiscretion if I don’t give in to what you want?”

Kelly nodded, hoping those piercing blue eyes would not see through her bluff. “That’s right,” she said lightly. “However, if you agree to my demands, I’ll give you all the negatives and also my solemn promise to forget I ever saw Señora Dominguez with you.”

“Very generous,” O’Brien said dryly. “And just what do you want from me?”

Here goes, Kelly thought, taking a deep breath. “Next week you’re testing a new fuel that a chemist friend of yours invented. You’re planning on riding a hot air balloon from the Rio
Grande valley to Acapulco. I want to go with you.”

“That’s all?” O’Brien asked, his blue eyes wary.

“That’s enough. It would be quite a scoop for any reporter, Mr. O’Brien, particularly since you’re so media shy.”

“You’ve gone to a great deal of trouble to catch me in your little trap,” he said thoughtfully, his eyes on her tense, eager face. “I wonder why it’s so important to you.”

“I just told you,” Kelly said, evading his piercing glance. “I want to get a story.”

“Perhaps,” he said absently, his eyes on the color that was again mounting to her cheeks. “But I don’t think that was the entire reason, was it? Now, let me see. What do I remember about one Kelly McKenna? You have a very memorable face, sweetheart. It should be easy to retrieve the facts to go with that face.”

Oh, Lord, the man had a photographic memory, Kelly thought uneasily. There was little chance that he would fail to make the connection. “Don’t waste your time, Mr. O’Brien,” she said
with forced lightness. “I’m always behind the camera, not in front of it.”

“Not always, Goldilocks,” he corrected. “You were very much in front of the camera in Frankfurt three years ago. In fact, you made the cover of every weekly news magazine in the country. You were quite the little heroine.”

“Bull. I was an unknown reporter who saw a way to get an exclusive that would get me national attention. Self-serving, perhaps, but hardly heroic.”

“But the public didn’t see it that way, did they? They only saw a dainty, golden-haired Joan of Arc who marched bravely up the steps of the American embassy where twelve hostages were being held captive by terrorists. They heard her offer to exchange places with one of the hostages and saw a very frightened young secretary go free. You were only twenty years old and had everything to live for. There wasn’t a dry eye in any living room in America when you disappeared into that embassy.” His lips twisted mockingly. “It was all very touching.”

“You evidently didn’t share their concern,” Kelly said. “Weren’t
you
moved by my plight?”

“Oh, yes, I was moved,” he said quietly. “I was probably more terrified for you than any of those kindly souls who built a halo over your little head because I felt a certain empathy with you. It was as if I were in that embassy with you sharing your terror and your excitement.”

“Excitement?”

“You don’t have to pretend with me, sweetheart,” he said. “There was a brief close-up of you on that live TV news broadcast as you were talking to the terrorist leader right before you marched into that embassy. I might have been looking into a mirror. I’m not the only one who likes to take chances, am I, Kelly McKenna?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kelly said, hoping she sounded convincing. “I told you that it was strictly ambition raising its ugly head. I saw a chance to make a smart career move, and I took it.” There was no way that she was going to admit to this dangerous man how well he had read her, even though she felt
strangely pleased that he not only understood but had actually shared her emotions.

“You’re something of a freak yourself, Kelly, love. You’re an addict on the oldest drug in existence. You love to feel the adrenaline flow when you’re scared half out of your mind, don’t you? You love walking on the tightrope with the lions waiting and hungry below you.”

“That’s crazy. I take chances because it’s my job, not because I enjoy it.”

O’Brien shook his dark head. “We both know what we are, Kelly. But you shouldn’t have involved yourself in a no-win situation like the one in Frankfurt. That came pretty close to suicide.”

“Nonsense. All the hostages were released at the airport, just as the terrorists promised.”

“You were lucky, and you know it,” O’Brien said bluntly. “It could have just as well gone the other way.” He gave her a long, thoughtful look, which caused Kelly to shift uneasily. “I believe that I’m going to have to take you under my wing, Kelly. It’s too dangerous to have you running around loose.”

“I’ve been taking care of myself for over five
years and done a fairly competent job of it, Mr. O’Brien,” Kelly said curtly. “I don’t feel I need your help at this late date.”

“Five years,” O’Brien repeated softly. “That’s right. Your father died when you were eighteen, didn’t he? He was Richard McKenna, a freelance photographer who traveled all over the world taking action shots that are still regarded by some as the best ever photographed. You must have been very proud of him.”

“Yes, very proud,” Kelly said simply. “He was a great photographer and a wonderful father. After my mother died when I was eight, he saw that we were never separated until the day he died. He took me with him wherever he went.”

“It’s no wonder you’re an addict, sweetheart. You’ve had years to develop that habit.” He held up his hand to halt her indignant reply. “Okay, I’ll drop the discussion of your little problem if you’ll tell me why it was so important for you to get this assignment.”

“I told you that—” Kelly started.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d cut out the bull and level with me,” O’Brien interrupted. “The Kelly
McKenna I read about three years ago wouldn’t deal in blackmail.”

Kelly bit her lip uncertainly before she decided to be frank with him. It probably couldn’t do any harm to her case. The man practically knew her whole life history anyway. “I had a bet with my editor that I’d get you to take me along,” she confessed hesitantly.

“Interesting,” O’Brien said, his eyes narrowing on her face. “And the stakes?”

She was not about to confess that it was the return of her overseas assignments. He was already convinced that she was some kind of danger junkie. “Something that I wanted very much,” Kelly said evasively, not looking at him.

“And if you lose?” he asked quietly, his eyes on the guilty color that was staining her cheeks.

“Then I give him something that he wants very much,” she said, still not looking at him. If she had, she would have noticed the sudden tenseness of his shoulders and the flicker that might have been anger in his blue eyes.

“I see,” he said flatly. “The oldest bargain in history and certainly the most intriguing.” Kelly
looked up in confusion, but he didn’t notice her expression. “Well, I believe that I’ll see that your boss doesn’t take home the marbles this time, Goldilocks. I’m taking you with me.”

“You will!” Kelly said excitedly, her face glowing. “That’s wonderful! You won’t regret it. I promise that I won’t be any trouble, and I’ll let you approve any material that I write about you.”

“You’re damn right you will. And any pictures that you take as well.” He stood up lithely and reached down to pull her to her feet.

Now that the decision was made, it seemed that the man couldn’t wait to send her on her way, Kelly thought. “Of course,” she said. “That goes without saying. Thank you again, Mr. O’Brien.”

“Nick,” he said curtly. “Formality is a bit absurd within the confines of a hot air balloon, don’t you think?”

“Nick,” she repeated softly, the name tripping with strange intimacy off her tongue. “Yes, I suppose it is. You’ll be in touch with me sometime next week then?”

“I like the way you say my name in that husky little voice,” he said, his eyes oddly intent on her face. “I’d like to hear you murmur—” He broke off abruptly and shook his head as if to clear it. “Next week?”

“You’ll be leaving for the Rio Grande valley for the ascent next week,” Kelly reminded him. “Isn’t that the plan?”

He was still staring at her face, his gaze lingering on the curve of her lower lip. Kelly was almost mesmerized by the intensity of that stare, and she felt an odd heat surge through her.

“No,” he said abruptly, turning away and moving briskly toward the foyer. “We’re leaving tonight. I’ll be by to pick you up at nine. Be ready. What’s your address?”

“Tonight!” Kelly protested, following closely on his heels. “But that’s impossible. I can’t be ready to go tonight. Why the change in plans?”

“Because I feel like it,” O’Brien said. “Didn’t your research cover the fact that all geniuses are eccentric? If you want to go with me, be ready to go at nine.”

“But I have a dinner engagement,” Kelly said
crossly. “I just can’t break a date without any warning. Can’t you wait at least until tomorrow?”

“No, I can’t,” he said crisply, as he turned at the front door to look down at her. “What date is so important that you can’t put it off for this dynamite story that you’re so eager to get? Is it with your editor?”

“Mac?” Kelly said bewilderedly. “No, it’s Simon Renwick. He’s in the advertising department at
World Weekly
.”

O’Brien’s lips curved unpleasantly. “You
are
a busy little girl, aren’t you?” he said. “Well, he’ll have to do without your services tonight, Goldilocks. You can either get rid of him before I pick you up, or I’ll take care of it when I get there. I really wouldn’t advise you to leave it up to me, though. I’m feeling a bit savage today.”

That was more than obvious, Kelly thought. It seemed that geniuses were not only eccentric but downright moody. She couldn’t imagine what had put O’Brien in such a temper, but he looked as fierce as one of his Aztec ancestors,
and she didn’t want to stick around and be a pagan sacrifice to that wrath.

“Okay,” she agreed, then sighed. “I’ll be ready at nine.” She gave him her street address and apartment number.

“Good,” he said tersely, opening the door for her. “I’d advise you to wear something a bit more practical than that outfit you have on. It may be May, but it can get quite cool in a balloon.”

“I do have a little common sense. May I suggest that you follow your own advice? I’d say you’re far less practically dressed than I!” She gazed pointedly at the white towel draped carelessly about his hips. “Or perhaps all that yoga has trained you to control your body temperature.”

He grinned, his blue eyes dancing and his bad temper suddenly banished by amusement. “Actually, that was one of the first things I learned when I studied with the Buddhist monks in Tibet two years ago,” he replied blandly. “Didn’t my dossier delve into those six months, sweetheart? Right now I’m working on controlling
the flow of blood to the organs without the benefit of the heart pumping it.”

“You mean you’re trying to stop your heart from beating?” she asked, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Only temporarily. It will probably take years for me to reach anywhere near the competence of the monks. A master can totally cease his heartbeat for more than thirty minutes.”

“That’s wonderful,” Kelly said faintly. “I don’t quite see why you would want to stop your heart from beating, but I’m sure you’ll succeed if you persevere.”

O’Brien smiled, his white teeth flashing brilliantly in his dark face. “It’s the challenge, love. It’s a key to be found and a puzzle to be solved.” He pushed her out the door with a gentle swat on her derriere. “Nine o’clock,” he reminded her, then shut the door firmly in her face.

O
H
, L
ORD, WHY
did things like this always happen to her? Kelly wondered gloomily, as she watched Simon Renwick and Paul Lautner square off. She had always known that Simon was a bit on the macho side, but who would have believed that slight, bespectacled Paul would display this ferocity?

“Look, it’s all very simple,” Kelly said soothingly, as she stepped between the two men. “I just got a little confused on my appointments and made two dates for the same night. I’m sorry that it happened, but there’s not much I can do about it, and—”

“No one’s blaming you for the mix-up, doll,” Simon growled, his eyes on Paul’s angry face. “You just leave it to us to sort it out. Why don’t you get your jacket and meet me downstairs in the foyer?”

Doll. If there was one endearment she hated, it was that one, Kelly thought. Why had she accepted the date with Simon, anyway? His athletic, blond good looks now appeared a bit too obvious and wholesome and his charm much too facile and slick.

“That’s a good idea, Kelly,” Paul said, his thin, intelligent face flushed with rage. “I’ll join you in a minute.” The entire mix-up was really more his fault than Simon’s, Kelly thought disgustedly. If he hadn’t looked so hungry and generally uncared for, she would never have invited him to her apartment for a home-cooked meal when he’d dropped into the office the previous week between assignments. Paul was a well-known journalist, but he usually looked as rumpled as an unmade bed, and he had the soulful eyes of a hungry spaniel.

Kelly shook her head. There was really no use
trying to shift the blame when she knew this awkwardness was the result of her own blasted absentmindedness. Simon hadn’t been in his office in the afternoon, and she had been so busy making arrangements that she had forgotten to call him at home to cancel the date. And she had completely forgotten about the date with Paul. They had arrived simultaneously at her front door five minutes ago. Not only had she not been able to get a word in edgewise to explain that she couldn’t go out with either one of them that night, but they had become so antagonistic that she was afraid they might come to blows at any moment.

“Look, there’s something that I’ve got to explain to both of you,” Kelly said desperately.

“I—”

“You’d best stay out of this, doll,” Simon said, placing his hands on her slender waist and shifting her to one side. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about a thing.”