Authors: Sally Clements
“I’m Andie, but you can call me cowardly.”
“Scaredy-pants Andie. Pleased to meet you.”
The queue shuffled forward. Earlier she’d wished it would hurry up, and then this whole ordeal would be over with as quickly as possible. Right now, the snail’s pace was a blessing.
“If you hate the idea of rollercoasters so much, why are you in this queue?” Ryan asked. “I mean, there’s no law saying you have to put yourself through something you don’t find enjoyable, is there?”
Yes there was.
The law according to Andie. She’d vowed to face her fears, one at a time.
Ryan watched. Waiting for an answer.
Andie pulled in a deep breath. “I’m facing my fears. It’s important to me.”
Ryan looked serious. “Well, in that case you’re a very brave woman.”
She sure didn’t feel brave. Not on the Harte scale of brave. Brave meant interviewing dictators in war torn corners of the world. Jumping out of planes—
for fun!
—her war correspondent mother had explained.
Her feelings must have shown on her face.
“I mean it, Andie. Facing your fears is brave.” Ryan took her hand again. “I don’t face mine.”
“Oh, so what are you afraid of?”
He was so tall she had to angle her head up to look in his face. His broad shoulders were like Atlas’s, born to carry the weight of the world. He looked like the type of man who would face down charging lions and win.
“Spiders? Water? Flying?” she prompted.
“No, I’m okay with all of those.” Wrinkles fanned out from the corners of green eyes as he smiled. “But I’m terrified of shopping.”
“Okay, that’s something all men are terrified of. Give me something better.”
The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Oh, I don’t know, marriage maybe?”
The queue moved another few feet. Its head was in sight now; they’d probably make the next intake.
“You know, this is a very weird conversation.” She really should stop holding his hand. It was like a fantasy, standing hand in hand with a tall, dark handsome man. Opening her heart and confessing her deepest fears to a complete stranger. It must be the trauma of the past few weeks that had her so out of kilter. It couldn’t just be
him
, could it?
“It’s pretty strange for me too,” he confessed. “But I like it.”
“Look,” he whispered in that velvet voice that made the hair on the back of her neck stand to attention. “I’m a rollercoaster veteran. The secret, if you’re feeling panicked about it, is to concentrate on something else. You need a distraction.”
Emerald eyes stared into hers; the black pupil expanding into the sea of green, then his gaze flickered to her mouth.
“Come on, mate! Queue’s moving!” A shove from behind, and Ryan pulled back.
“What…” Andie spluttered.
He’d been about to kiss her.
And she’d been about to let him. Her mouth tingled as if actually feeling the press of his lips.
“Come on.” Ryan strode forward pulling her along with him to the front of the queue. “It’s our turn.”
Ryan rubbed the back of his neck. At least he hadn’t actually kissed her. Kissing her was more than reckless; it was goddamned stupid.
They climbed into the rollercoaster seats.
The assistant checked the constraints holding them in place were fastened securely.
Ryan darted a glance her direction. “Okay?”
Andie was whitewash pale, and her jaw was clamped tight. She looked the absolute picture of terror personified. “Okay.” A tight little nod gave lie to her words.
Admiration swelled in Ryan’s chest. Whatever her reasons, she was going through with this, and for someone who was afraid of rollercoasters ‘The Screamer’ was a courageous choice. He’d never been on this particular one, heck, he’d never even been in this amusement park before, but he’d been on many, and this one looked as though it would live up to its reputation.
The little red car jerked, rocked from side to side, then inched forward to the sound of clattering metal.
Andie gripped his hand. Her chest rose and fell with each rapid breath. She gazed over the edges of the track as it left the safety of the starting spot and cranked into nothingness.
Ryan’s fingers ached as though they were being squeezed in a vice. He glanced up, seeing raw terror written in her tensed jawline and narrowed eyes. Sympathy bit.
He pitched his voice low and soothing, “It seems like it’s going to be forever, but it’s only six minutes out of your life.” Six minutes of terror could be suffered with the end in sight. “There’s no real danger, it just feels like that. You’re safe.”
Not like being on the frontline in Bekostan. There, even walking the streets was dangerous. Every trip to buy food was a perilous gamble, fraught with the very real possibility you might not make it back home safely.
In England, things were different. People walked the streets in safety. The only topic of conversation seemed to be the weather. England was bland, safe, and vanilla. No wonder he’d left the country that was once home at the earliest possible opportunity. The sights he’d seen would shock this pretty blonde in the buttercup dress lighting her up like a beam of sunlight.
She was his complete opposite. Light to his dark. The sort of woman perfectly accessorized by a solid, sensible type with a positive outlook to match her sundress. An accountant maybe. Or an outdoor type, like a ski-instructor.
Not a man like him.
They were close as peas in a pod in a tiny metal carriage. Linked palm to palm, while within, Ryan battled down a totally inappropriate desire to kiss her.
Her vivid blue eyes widened as the carriage slowed at the base of the first rise. A series of slow clicks filled his ears as the carriage winched slowly up the incline.
“I’m here,” he said. “It’s all right.”
“Thank you,” she whispered a moment before the carriage crested the top and dived.
She was screaming. Her eyes were clamped tight, and the high, terrified sound rang out in the clear air.
Ryan’s insides churned as the carriage jerked to the left. He held on tight, hoping to provide some comfort that she wasn’t alone.
Around them people were screaming in shock and delight as the coaster tilted at a perilous angle and shot down into an underground cavern. Another shift, this time to the opposite angle, and they were soaring skywards again.
The ride slowed. His heart raced with adrenalin overload. Breathing deeply, Ryan let the thrill flow through him. The track twisted and rose higher and higher.
He glanced over. She’d stopped screaming, but her white face with eyes scrunched tightly shut told its own story. She really hated this. Distress bled from her, like a tangible mist of fear.
For the first time ever, he wanted a rollercoaster ride to be over.
Long, black eyelashes dusted against her cheekbones.
He’d known she was pretty, of course.
The pictures on the front pages had shown that clearly, even while her face was transformed by grief, and her eyes reddened by tears. The instant kick of attraction he’d felt standing in the queue next to her had been unexpected.
He hadn’t felt so strongly attracted to a woman since…since forever. It was damned inconvenient that it was
this
woman. The woman who’d doubtless hate him when she discovered the truth.
Her mouth opened again as the carriage pitched and rolled in a breathless flurry of action that tumbled his insides.
Ryan closed his eyes too, and gave in to the terror and delight, the sound of his loud shout ripped away by the wind whipping around them as the coaster dipped towards the earth once again.
*****
It was over.
The bar holding her in place clicked and Andie released Ryan’s hand to push it upwards, and then stepped out of the horrific device.
She’d done it!
And she hadn’t cried, or made a complete show of herself either. Sure, she’d screamed, but so had everyone. She’d even heard Ryan’s deep tones raised in a shout on that final dive.
“Do you want to get the picture?” Ryan asked as they followed the crowd through the exit, where a bank of screens showed the automatic pictures snapped during the ride displayed with numbers below them. “There we are, look.” He pointed.
“I want one.” Andie scrabbled in her bag for her purse. “Number seven, please.”
“A number seven for me too,” Ryan added to the girl behind the counter.
As they waited for the printer to churn out their pictures, Andie took a second look at the screen. Her eyes were closed; mercifully the camera had caught the image in the one brief moment she hadn’t been screaming. She almost looked peaceful, which was amazing considering the terror of the ride.
Her chest swelled in pride.
The man sitting next to her wasn’t screaming either. His eyes were open, but he wasn’t looking at the camera. He was looking at her. The captured expression on his face was unexpected. He looked serious and resolute.
They paid for the pictures.
“Well, thanks again.” Andie stepped back. It felt strange to leave him, even though they’d only known each other for such a short time.
“Do you want to go again?” His mouth curved into a smile.
For the first time in ages, Andie threw back her head and laughed. “You have
got
to be kidding!” She waved the picture at him. “I’ve done it now. I don’t ever need to do it again.”
“What…never?” His mouth turned down at the corners in an exaggerated frown. “Are you trying to tell me you don’t want to hold my hand anymore?” His eyes twinkled.
Gosh, it was difficult not to flirt back. Why shouldn’t she? After all, she didn’t have a boyfriend, and there was no-one waiting for her back home. “I’m sure you can find someone else to hold hands with—are you joining the queue again?” she teased.
His smile faded. Earnest green eyes gazed into hers. “But what if I don’t want to hold anyone else’s hand?”
“Look, Ryan—”
“I like you, Andie. I know we’ve just met, and we’re practically strangers, but if you come for a coffee with me, we won’t be. I’m done with rides for the day.”
Andie considered his proposal for a moment. She
never
took strange men up on their offers. Never took a chance. She’d done what she came here to do, and the rest of the day stretched before her like a black hole of nothingness, filled only with the prospect of sitting alone at home, brooding over the past.