Kayla looked around. Because it wasn’t even nine in the morning, the newsroom was mostly empty. Kayla sent up a prayer of thanks that her newsroom dramas seemed to occur before the office really got hopping.
To Ed, she said, not even pretending not to understand, “I know this will be hard to believe, Ed, but trust me. I’m not involved with Noah now, nor was I when I wrote that first story about Whittaker Enterprises.”
She stopped to take a breath and Ed said, “Kid, one of these days I’m going to tell you how I met my wife while covering the biggest story of my career. Let’s just say, a study in journalistic ethics it ain’t.”
She must have looked flummoxed, because Ed shrugged. “Hey, we’re all human. Just keep your old newspaper friends in mind, will you, when you’re schmoozing with the bigwigs?”
“Ed—” She stopped and shook her head. There were no bigwigs in her future, but she’d settle for keeping her job. All her explaining could come later, however, so instead she said, “Thanks, Ed,” then took off down the hall.
She had a plane to beat.
Eleven
When Kayla got off the elevator at Whittaker Enterprises, she found Noah speaking with his secretary.
Just in time, she thought, then wondered whether what she felt was panic or relief. She barely had time to wipe clammy palms on her pants, however, before he looked up and caught sight of her.
“Hi,” she said as she walked toward him. He looked delectable and she fought the urge to launch herself into his arms.
He turned to face her, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Hi.”
“Can we talk?”
He nodded. To his secretary, he said, “Hold my calls.”
“Right,” the secretary replied, looking from Noah to Kayla speculatively.
When he’d ushered her into his office and closed the door, she took a deep breath and then plunged right in. “Have you seen Sybil’s column today?”
He gave her an odd look. “Should I have?”
“Her headline claims the two of us are about to walk down the aisle!” Right away, she felt her face heat with embarrassment.
He arched an eyebrow.
“I just wanted to let you know that I had nothing to do with it.”
“I didn’t think you had,” he said smoothly.
Relief seeped through her. “You didn’t?”
“No.” A wry smile curved his lips.
“I don’t know who her source was, but—”
“I do.”
“What?” What?
“I know who her source was.”
He did? Well, no wonder he seemed so calm.
“Her source was very reliable,” he went on. “He was totally trustworthy.”
“Oh, right,” she said crossly. “How reliable could he have been if he was totally mistaken?”
He cocked his head and gave her an inscrutable look. “How do you know he was wrong?”
“Because—” she spluttered. He was going to make her spell it out for him? “Because you…I…”
“Yes?”
“We’re not getting married!” she exclaimed.
“Ah.”
“Anyway,” she said, changing the subject from a dangerous topic, “would you mind telling me who the source is?”
“A guy I know,” he said enigmatically.
“A ‘friend’ of yours?” she asked disdainfully.
“He’s a good guy,” he countered. “Somewhat misunderstood and occasionally misguided, but well-intentioned.”
“Uh-huh.” He’d had the nerve to condemn her for being a gossip columnist, and yet he was all too ready to forgive a friend who’d run to the press with untruths.
“Good guy, right!”
“Hey, you might hurt his feelings,” he said, though he didn’t look worried.
Far from it, actually. She paused as a touch of suspicion intruded. “How long have you known this friend?”
“Years. That’s why I can vouch for his character.”
Her suspicion grew and, with it, confusion. Was he playing with her? Did he believe he hadn’t exacted enough retribution for her apparent betrayal in the Caymans? Was he angry about her news article and was this his way of punishing her? Or…?
She searched his face. He didn’t look angry. If anything, he looked…expectant.
Her heart began to thud. “I’m surprised you’re such good buddies with someone who’d run to the papers with details of your private life.”
He held her gaze as he said, “Let’s just say my friend’s learned that society columns can serve a useful purpose.”
“Really?” Well. “I didn’t ask. Have I met this friend of yours?”
He took a step toward her. “You know him.”
Her heart beat faster. “Is he good-looking?”
“Very.” He took another step toward her.
“Oh.” He was within touching distance of her now, and she was aware of every inch of him. “Smart?”
“I guess so.”
“Funny?” Could that breathless voice be hers?
“Some say so.”
“Oh.”
“Why do you ask?” he asked, his voice low and husky.
She swept him a glance from beneath her lashes. “I may be in the market for a steady date.”
A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Oh? That’s too bad.”
Her eyes opened wide. “Why?”
He shrugged. “Because I guess that means you won’t be interested in this,” he said, pulling something from his pocket.
He held it up, and the radiance of the diamond caught and reflected the light.
She gasped and lifted her gaze from the ring to his face.
“I was the source, Kayla. Because I love you, and I’ve been an ass.”
He went down on one knee.
“Oh!” She felt tears threatening, then felt like an idiot for being able to manage only a half-coherent exclamation.
He took her hand, slipping the ring onto her third finger, as he gazed up at her. “Will you marry me?”
She looked at him through a sheen of tears. “I love you, too,” she warbled.
His smile stayed in place. “I think the appropriate answer to that question is ‘yes’ or ‘no.’”
He was joking, but his words were endearingly tinged with uncertainty.
“Yes!”
He rose then and folded her into his arms. The kiss that he gave her was soul-searchingly thorough, and she gave herself up to it.