She swallowed hard. It was irresistible.
He moved the heated intensity of his gaze back up to her face. Electricity arced between them, along with thoughts of a career-ending variety. How much damage would one more night do if no one ever knew? And how could she even be thinking that, now of all times?
And then it came to her. What she should have known from the beginning...she had never been nor would she ever be objective when it came to Alex Constantinou. She could not turn his personal tragedy into the most-watched interview of the year. Whatever had made him play that night, take those drugs, it didn’t belong in her story. It didn’t belong in anyone’s story.
Someone grabbed a hold of Alex’s arm and commanded his attention. She exhaled a long, shaky breath. And suddenly knew exactly what she was going to do. She was going to bury the information. Tell James he was going to have to go with a different angle. And in doing so throw away her best chance at landing this anchor job. At making her career.
Her trembling fingers bit into her glass to keep it from falling to the ground. A cold knot formed in her stomach. She was risking her job. Her vow to tell the truth no matter what. For a man who thought she was a cold-hearted opportunist. Nice one, Izzie.
She made it through the next couple of hours in a muted haze as the party wound down and the crowd began thinning out. Agape was witty and charming and they hit it off. Debated the merits of some of the eligible men in the crowd. She was at her side when the last few guests made their way toward the driveway and Agape declared herself done.
“Walk me out?” she said to Izzie. “We’ll have to do drinks when we’re back in New York.”
She said goodbye to Agape. Found herself standing beside Alex as he waved her off and finished chatting with the last remaining guest, the CEO of an offshore drilling company that operated off the coast of California. The sideways look he gave her as the taillights of Agape’s bright red convertible zigzagged down the driveway had her stepping backward.
The weight of his hand came down on her shoulder. “Don’t even think about it,” he muttered under his breath. She stood there while he shook the CEO’s hand, her heartbeat accelerating in a painful mixture of fear and anticipation. The tall Southerner clapped Alex on the back, folded himself into his sports car and drove off.
She cleared her throat. “Alex, I’m really tired. Maybe we can—”
He squared to face her. “If you don’t think we’re settling this tonight, you are seriously deluded, Izzie.”
Her breath caught in her throat. The heat of his palm burned into the bare skin of her shoulder as he marched her toward the house.
“Stay put,” he instructed, when they reached the legions of catering staff packing up in the pool area. He disappeared, then came back with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. Her heart beat like a snare drum as he propelled her toward the back of the house.
“Where are we going?”
He gave her a sideways look. “I thought you’d prefer doing this in private rather than broadcasting it to every gossip magazine in L.A.”
Good point. She picked up her pace to keep up as he turned the corner of the house and headed for the terrace off his master suite. The sheer drop to the Pacific was gobsmackingly gorgeous. Her stomach felt as though it was going down along with it.
Alex deposited the bottle and glasses on the table and stripped off his jacket. The lump in her stomach increased to the size of a grapefruit. He shot her a sideways look. “Why don’t you open the champagne?”
His quietly spoken words struck her as glaringly symbolic. She went completely still, studying the expression on his face. Searching for the softening she’d seen earlier.
“I know you didn’t set me up, Izzie.”
Her eyes widened. “How?”
“I talked to Laura Reed this morning and she gave me an earful. Said James was the type who plays by the rules. That setting me up wasn’t something he would do.”
“But you didn’t believe that before,” she said slowly. “Why now?”
He shrugged and loosened his tie. “I’m a little—a lot,” he corrected, “paranoid about the media. They’ve made my life hell with their lies and speculation. And sometimes I get a little crazy about it.” He pulled off the tie and slung it over a chair. “After I talked to Laura, I remembered how desperately you tried to get James to leave that night at the Met, and I realized he had no idea about us. Then my rational brain finally kicked in. It isn’t you, Izzie.”
She caught her lip between her teeth. “You really believe me?”
“Yes.”
Bewildered, she let it sink in. Felt a warm feeling spread through her, relief mixed with something else. It had killed her to think he believed her capable of that after what they’d shared. She swallowed hard and lifted her gaze to his. “I’m giving up the story.”
His brows pulled together. “Why?”
“I’m not objective about you, Alex, I never have been.”
His mouth twisted. “You’ve been doing a pretty good job of giving Frank Messer a fair shake.”
She shook her head. “It’s not that. I— I’m burying the information about the illegal drugs. You don’t need to worry about it.”
He stared at her. “Why?”
Because I fell for you so hard that night in London I can’t see straight. She lifted her chin and said instead, “Because I can’t do that to you.”
“You’re up for a promotion. You need this story.”
She shrugged. “Some things in life are more important than a story.”
“Your boss would disagree.”
Her stomach twisted. “He would disagree with just about everything I’ve done thus far. I think I have a bit of soul-searching to do.”
He undid his cuff and rolled it back. “An anchor job is going to be a hell of a lot of pressure, Izzie. Cutthroat competition.”
“You did it, being a quarterback.”
“I thrive on pressure. It’s in my DNA. I don’t think you’re built like that.”
No, she wasn’t. What she loved was working in the community every day, telling people’s stories. But an anchor job was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And a lot could be done to better the community from that position as well. Maybe more.
She absorbed the roar of the Pacific beneath them. Suddenly everything seemed very, very out of control.
She reached for the champagne, pulled the foil off and worked the cork out with shaking fingers. Amber liquid sloshed over the side of the glass as she poured.
“Izzie.” Alex moved behind her and pried the bottle from her fingers. “What’s going on?”
Inhaling deeply, she breathed in the sexy, spicy smell of him, the undertone of musky male that was all Alex. And knew she hadn’t truly thought of anything but being back in his arms for weeks.
He turned her around. Watched her with that all-seeing gaze of his until she shook her head and gave him an uncertain smile. “Do you know what’s funny? I promised myself I would never, ever let a man get in the way of my career. And now not only am I doing that,” she said, her voice holding more than a trace of irony, “but I’m doing it at the most important moment of my career.”
He reached up and ran his thumb across her cheek. “Don’t you know control is a myth? None of us are in control of anything, Iz. Not over that elevator we were in and not over this thing between you and me.”