Needed: Her Mr Right, page 4
She was frightened of him.
Simone was still shaking when she got back to the office.
Closing her door, she collapsed into her chair with the diary clutched to her chest. She felt ill—and annoyed with herself for getting frightened and running away like that. But she’d been rattled from the moment RyanTanner had arrived at the restaurant and she’d realised he was the same guy she’d seen in the taxi queue at the airport!
She’d felt shocked and foolish. Last week she’d thought he was smiling at her, and she’d actually smiled back. In reality, Tanner was more likely to have been smirking than smiling. And she’d been silly enough to think he was hot-looking.
What an idiot she was!
Since when had she been taken in by a hot body, a suntan and soulful brown eyes? She let out a long, exhausted sigh. At least she had the diary now. And Ryan Tanner hadn’t followed her.
It was a hollow victory.
Tanner might not have come after her, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t publish her story—or Belle’s and Claire’s stories for that matter.
Oh, cringe.
With an angry little cry, she reached down and opened the bottom drawer of her desk, dropped the diary into it and then locked it, slipped the key into a pocket inside her handbag.
Then she swivelled in her chair to face her desktop computer. She had to send emails to Belle and Claire. To confess what had happened and to warn them.
Would they ever forgive her?
Next morning brought no relief for Simone. She stared at her computer screen and felt so on edge her teeth almost severed her lower lip. She’d spent a restless, sleepless night, racked with dread. She scanned this morning’s newspapers and could find no sign of a story about her, but she knew it wouldn’t be long before Ryan Tanner published everything.
How would she ever survive? What would her friends and colleagues think of her? Her grandfather?
She would try ringing Murrawinni again to warn her grandfather, but just thinking about his reaction roused a frantic mass of butterflies in her stomach.
And, to make matters worse, she had to worry about Belle and Claire too. Overnight, emails had arrived from them and, although both girls had been remarkably cool and very understanding, not blaming her at all for losing her diary, she knew they were worried.
Claire had written:
I can’t say I’m happy to know my dirty laundry will soon be hanging out to dry on the public line, but I certainly don’t blame you, Simone.
It’s not your fault that jerk has decided to make a name for himself at our expense. Don’t beat yourself up over it. If anyone deserves a good thrashing, it would be Ryan Tanner.
In the meantime, I can’t keep waiting for Ethan to return my phone calls. I think a little trip is in order.
Belle had been equally sympathetic.
But, although her friends were kind and supportive, Simone knew they were upset. There was no way they wouldn’t be. They were both high profile women, sure to attract huge media attention if their stories were leaked to their local press. The girls would be mortified! Belle’s career as a breakfast show host would be ruined. Claire’s famous family would be outraged.
And, perhaps even more importantly, if the beans about their Himalayan pacts were spilled, their missions would be in jeopardy. She mustn’t allow that to happen. Belle really, really needed to track down her sister, Daisy, and Claire desperately wanted to find Ethan, her ex-husband.
Simone couldn’t let the loss of her diary ruin their plans. She mustn’t; she wouldn’t.
She typed two words—Ryan Tanner—into her favourite Internet search engine and pages of links flashed on to her screen. She knew that some of the links would be false leads, but there were sure to be one or two that related to the Ryan Tanner she’d met. With luck, she would find something she could follow up…something she could use to her advantage…to keep him quiet.
She had to find a way to stop Tanner.
He deserved this.
Didn’t he?
Fifteen minutes later, she grinned at her computer screen, delighted with what she’d discovered. While it was true that Ryan Tanner was a journalist who’d worked for The Sydney Chronicle and a couple of London papers, it was what he had not told her that excited her now.
Her tormentor was actually one of the Big Name Tanners—Ryan Davidson Tanner—son and heir of the notoriously colourful and outspoken mining magnate, Jordan Davidson Tanner.
Her mind whirled with snatches of text, phrases she’d jotted down, brimming with possibilities…
distanced from the family…estranged from his father…
jealously guards his privacy…not photographed with a family member since he left school…
What couldn’t she do with this?
A hot-looking single guy, heir to one of Australia’s most famous business tycoons, who’d turned his back on the family fortune and chosen a life as a lowly jobbing journalist—he was a City Girl editor’s dream come true.
And…he was a man who closely guarded his privacy.
Wow!
She’d struck gold.
But…Oh, my gosh…
She felt ill as her guilty conscience elbowed its way to the centre of her thoughts. If she exposed Ryan Tanner in City Girl against his wishes, knowing he would hate it, she was as bad as he was. This would be…
Blackmail…
Not a nice place to be.
Journalism might be a jump-down-your-throat kind of game, but Simone had always prided herself on achieving publishing success without resorting to really intrusive stories. Her magazine had integrity.
She glanced again at the sheets of information about the Tanners that she’d printed out. Did she really want to do this?
Under other circumstances she would never consider blackmail. But she had to stop Tanner from publishing her story, had to protect Belle and Claire on the other side of the world and she was worried sick because of the threat he posed.
She drew a deep breath.
Right. Desperate times required desperate measures. Ryan Tanner had left her no option.
He might be potentially mega-rich and undeniably good-looking…but he was also despicable and dangerous.
Toughen up, girl.
Yes! She would do this. And she would enjoy seeing Ryan Tanner exposed to the full glare of City Girl’s spotlight. She would enjoy letting him know that the shoe was now quite neatly on the other foot.
And why should she feel guilty? The rest of her staff would agree with her. There would be no argument. Ryan Tanner was the perfect candidate for the next instalment of City Girl’s hottest series, The Secret Life of Bachelors.
It was close to noon by the time Ryan jogged up the sun-drenched beach, dropped his surfboard on to the sand and stretched his tired, well-exercised muscles.
Flicking salty hair from his eyes, he retrieved his slim silver cellphone from deep within the folds of his beach towel.
Three missed calls—all from one source.
He frowned, debating whether he should check the caller now or later, after he’d showered and found some food. His stomach growled with hunger.
The decision, however, was made for him when the phone rang again. He answered it promptly.
“Morning.” Was it still morning?
“Mr Tanner?”
Even though Simone Gray had dominated his thoughts for the past twenty-four hours, the unexpected sound of her voice caught him in the chest, like a surprise left hook. He had to draw two sharp, quick breaths before he could reply. “Simone.”
“You’re a hard man to track down,” she said, injecting a note of accusation.
“I’ve been…uh…busy.”
“Really? No one at the Chronicle office could tell me where you were.”
“I’m not working for the Chronicle. I’m freelancing.”
A pause. “Are you on a job at the moment?”
Ryan scratched his suntanned chest and cracked a slow smile as he looked out at the blue sea, sparkling and rolling beneath a sleepy summer sky. “More or less. I’m writing a surf report.”
“You’re at the beach?”
“Yeah.”
He waited for her derisive tut-tut and was surprised when she sounded rather pleased. “Really? Which one?”
“Now why would you want to know that?” Ryan’s smile tilted into a lopsided grin. “Were you thinking of donning a bikini and joining me? You should, you know. The surf’s up and the sun’s great. Come on down.”
“In your dreams, Tanner.”
“You’re not a water baby?”
“I do my swimming in the Coogee rock pool after working hours.”
An instant vision of Simone’s lovely slim body leapt to life and Ryan pictured her in a swimsuit, slicing high in the water. Then he heard a soft sound, a choked-off groan, and he realised she regretted giving him that information.
But she made a quick recovery. “Tell you what,” she said. “Why don’t I grab one of our photographers and catch a shot of you with your surfboard?”
“Photographer?” Ryan’s grin faded. “Why would you want a photographer?”
“To illustrate the great story we’re running. About you, Mr Tanner. I’ve written it myself and I must say it’s rather good. Although it’s more of an exposé than our usual features.”
Ryan swore beneath his breath.
Simone was playing games—which explained why she sounded so suddenly perky.
His eyes narrowed. He watched a young mother laugh as her toddler chased a seagull into the shallows and then, shifting his gaze, he watched the perfect hollow curl of a blue-green wave. “That is not a good idea,” he said quietly.
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly agree with you, Mr Tanner. And neither does anyone on my staff. We’re all unanimous. We think this story’s fabulous. Fascinating! You’re the perfect subject for us.”
He was aware of a clammy sensation crawling down his spine, a sensation that had nothing to do with the drying, sticky salt on his skin. “OK, I’ll bite. I’m a perfect subject for exactly what kind of fabulous story?”
“For City Girl’s eligible bachelor archive.”
Another swearword escaped him and this time it was audible. “No way!”
“In every way, Ryan. And I’m really excited about this, because we’ve managed to slot you in for the next edition. All we need is a really good full-colour photo. A beach shot would be fantastic.”
“Forget it.”
“There’s no rush. If you’re not feeling photogenic right now, there’s still time to set something up, or we can always use one of—”
“You’re crazy, Simone. This is a joke, right?”
“Mr Tanner, I’m a busy editor of a very popular magazine. I’m far too occupied with important business to waste my time writing jokes.”
He couldn’t help noting how different she sounded today. The defensive, frightened girl he’d met at the Jade Dragon was conducting herself with the breezy confidence he’d noted when he’d first seen her at the airport. In fact, if he wasn’t mistaken, she was enjoying herself.
At his expense.
Ryan counted to five and then spoke with a deliberately casual drawl. “Simone, you’re deluding yourself if you think your ambitious yuppie readers will be interested in a hack journalist-cum-beach bum.”
To his horror, he realised that was almost exactly what his father would say.
“Sorry, Ryan, but that’s where you’re so wrong. Women, especially ambitious women, are always intrigued by rich men in disguise.”
“By what?”
“You’re a living, breathing fairy tale, you know. The Prince and the Pauper. But your cover’s blown. One of my journalists is contacting your brother, Christopher, right now. We want the latest stats on the Tanner fortune.”
Strike three—and he was out.
Ryan almost groaned, but knew any sound of dismay would give Simone intense satisfaction, so he released a super-soft, huffing sigh instead. She had done her homework and uncovered his family connections. It wouldn’t have been too hard. No doubt she’d also found out about the bad blood between him and JD.
She would not know that Ryan had his own confidential business plan and had never touched a cent of JD’s money. But he supposed that wouldn’t save him from the spotlight’s glare.
Her exposé was some warped kind of payback because she thought he was going to publish her diary.
This was blackmail.
“Simone, we should talk about this. We need to meet.”
She didn’t reply.
“Let me take you out to dinner. I owe you a meal anyway.” This time he would pull out all the stops—take her to the most expensive restaurant in town, reserve the best table, order the finest wine.
Still no response.
Ryan closed his eyes and grimaced, ploughed his right hand into his hair, which had dried quickly in the sun and was stiff with salt from the sea.
“Come on, Simone. You owe me a hearing. And you owe me at least one chance to explain why you shouldn’t run with this story.”
“Let me sleep on it.”
“Like hell! I want this settled now.”
But his angry response was wasted. Simone had already hung up.
CHAPTER FOUR
“OH, YES! He’s good!”
‘Good? Is that all you can say? The man’s gorgeous. Drop an “o” from that word. He’s a god.’
The City Girl team huddled around their graphic artist’s computer, staring at the breathtaking image on her screen. Simone stood to one side, three fingers pressed to her lips, watching the others’ excitement with mild dismay. She wanted Ryan Tanner to make a stir, and yet…
“He’s the best bachelor we’ve ever had,” Cate breathed. “Look at those toned pecs, those abs, and that smile! Cute with a capital Q.”
“Not to mention his bedroom eyes. Is he real?”
Karin, the graphic artist, laughed. “This guy’s one hundred per cent authentic. Every inch real. I haven’t laid a finger on him.” She let out an exaggerated, dramatic sigh. “Sad to say.”
Simone bit back a scoffing retort.
The image the girls were drooling over was a black and white photo of Ryan Tanner, taken a few years ago at a surfing carnival. A news photographer had taken the shot just after Ryan had finished an Iron Man Surf Lifesaving challenge, a three-part race that combined swimming, surf skis and a beach sprint.
Posed on a sunlit beach, Ryan was wearing nothing but a brief pair of black swimming trunks that left rather a lot of packaged testosterone on display. He was grinning at the camera with the easy charm that was becoming just a little too familiar for Simone’s comfort.
The girls were seriously impressed.
“Think how fit he must be,” Donna murmured.
Teeth gritted, Simone dragged her eyes from the screen. Having just completed her own cycling challenge, she was well aware of the training and discipline Tanner must have endured to get into shape for an Iron Man race. But she wasn’t prepared to acknowledge it now, any more than she was prepared to admit that the guy was the ultimate in super-toned and suntanned masculinity.
She turned to Karin. “Do you have the name of the photographer who took this shot?”
Karin nodded. “Would you like me to contact him?”
“Might be an idea. Just in case Tanner’s uncooperative and we need to run with this pic.” Simone schooled her features to look bored as she flicked another glance at the screen. “Pity it’s black and white. Let’s see what it looks like when you zoom in a little.”
With a couple of clicks of the mouse, Karin enlarged Ryan Tanner so that he filled the screen. “Too grainy,” she said. “But I should be able to fix that.”
Donna sighed dreamily. “Don’t you love that shaggy, wet-haired, just stepped out of the shower look?”
“Adorable!” Karin stared at the screen for a moment, then swivelled in her chair and winked at Simone. “Why don’t we work on that shower concept? Drape a towel over this babe’s shoulder, bare one hip. Make him look as if he’s in the bathroom.” Her eyes twinkled cheekily. “A bachelor for your bathroom. How’s that for a fantasy? Brings him a little closer to home.”
The thought of Ryan Tanner naked in her bathroom caused an unsettling tightness in Simone’s chest as if every last drop of air had been squeezed from her lungs. For heaven’s sake. She could even picture him letting the towel drop. A playful striptease. For her eyes only…
“That’s encroaching on dangerous copyright issues,” she wheezed.
Her half-choked voice brought curious glances from Donna and Cate.
“Let me have a go anyway,” said Karin. “Just for us. For fun.”
Without waiting for her boss’s permission, she set to work, using her state-of-the-art computer wizardry to transform Ryan, while the semicircle of women watched in reverent silence. Simone tried not to look, but couldn’t help it. She was fascinated.
In an amazingly short space of time, Karin had Ryan standing against a background of pale green bathroom tiles, still with his wet, sun-streaked hair, but with a baby-soft, snow-white bath towel draped over one broad, suntanned shoulder. His deeply muscled chest and taut abdomen were still on show, but now his lean right hip was bared, so that he looked as if he was wearing nothing but the towel.
A hush fell over the room. Finally Cate spoke for all of them. “Gosh, Karin, you’re a genius. This hunk will be every woman’s dream.”
Donna let out a soft groan. “Oh, man. He’ll score a big fat tick in every box on City Girl’s hot-o-meter.”
The girls were so intent on the image that they ignored the faint click of the door opening behind them.
“So what do you think of him now, Simone?” Karin asked.
A deeply masculine voice broke into the hushed silence. “Good question, Simone.”
Simone gasped. Spun around.
Ryan Tanner. In the flesh.
In the office.
She felt her heart leap high, threatening to force its way out through her throat.
