Guilty Love (Completed)

Chapter Sixteen

She kept reliving the crash, no doubt her mind was really absorbing the fear and shock, dealing with all that trauma. The whirling of the helicopter rumbling out of the sky, the terror of being flung about, landing with that terrifying thud and then Ritchie dragging her and pulling her out of the chopper, forcing her to run, until the explosion blew them both off their feet.

The dreams were so vivid, changed so much, swinging wildly between fear and indifference, relief and the happiness of surviving, the sheer panic with which she watched the scarlet and black of the fire spreading through the wheatfield, and most intense of all, the moments in Ritchie's arms when their mouths met and she felt the upsurge of an emotion so powerful that it could dominate all her memories of the rest of that traumatic day.

She was still deeply asleep when someone began knocking loudly on her door, followed by Ritchie's voice urgently calling her name.

"Linzi! Linzi! Are you OK?"

She sat up, drowsy-eyed, flushed and dishevelled, looked at her watch and groaned, then scrambled out of bed and padded over, barefoot, to open the door, keeping it on the chain.

Ritchie's frowning face filled the gap, his grey eyes intent on her. "I'm sorry, I overslept," she stammered. "What time is it?"

"Ten past eight. Did you sleep well?" She nodded. "Did you?" "Like a log. How soon can you be ready?"

She noticed suddenly that he was wearing a crisp, blue stripped shirt, a dove-grey silk tie, an elegantly tailored cool grey suit, and looked very different from the way he had looked yesterday when he was wearing jeans and a grass-stained, crumpled shirt. A spark of amusement lit her blue eyes. Ritchie had dressed to convince the police he was a respectable citizen.

"What are you grinning at?" he asked, eyes narrowing. She smoothed out her expression and demurely said, "Nothing. I won't take long to dress, give me five minutes!"

"Only five?" He was disbelieving. He ran a glance slowly down over her then, taking in the way she looked in the crisp white shirt he had lent her. It was far too big for her, the shoulders too wide, the sleeves too long. Standing in that doorway she had the early morning sunlight behind her, it illuminated her slender body within the white material, revealed every curve, the high, rounded breasts, the small waist, the smooth slim hips. Her bare, tanned legs showed beneath the hem of the shirt, her well-shaped calves and small, naked feet.

Linzi blushed under his eyes. "You can time me. Five minutes," she said huskily, wished he wouldn't stare. "Have you any idea how sexy you look in my shirts?" he whispered, and she teased. "Don't flirt with me!"

He grimaced. "Sorry, OK, I'll time you. I'll be downstairs, reading morning papers. Do you want tea or coffee with your breakfast?"

"Coffee, please."

"Orange juice?" She nodded and he asked, "Brown or white toast?"

"Brown, please."

Ritchie showed her his wristwatch. "Five minutes, then!"

"Right!"

She shut the door and raced into the bathroom. As she ran water to wash her face, she eyed her reflection in the mirror above the sink. Her blue eyes had a dangerous brilliance, and her skin was deeply flushed. Her face betrayed her, and she bleakly recognised that she was going to have to break away from Ritchie Calhoun before it was too late and disaster hit them both.

Every day she was getting deeper, already she was going to find it bitterly hard to say goodbye to him. Those dreams were a danger signal, for a start. Over and over again during the night she had dreamt of Ritchie kissing her. She turned away to find her brush, running it through her tangled silvery hair, frowning. Well, how did you censor your dreams, for heaven's sake? She couldn't help what her unconscious came up with, couldn't she?

You can stop it having any memories to work on, she grimly told herself as she hurried to get dressed in the clothes she had been wearing yesterday. She just made it downstairs in five minutes. Ritchie was sitting on his own at a table by a window, his newspaper open and his eyes riveted on a page. He didn't even look up as Linzi sat down.

"I made it, didn't I?" she asked breathlessly. Ritchie lifted his head. His grey eyes were hard, his face set like stone.

"What's wrong?" Linzi whispered, instantly afraid of bad news. "Not Ted?"

He shook his head. "No, Ted's fine. I rang the hospital earlier and he's probably coming home today. No, it's this....," He threw the newspaper across at her and watched her face as glanced down at the open page, frowning.

It wasn't a national paper, but it was a provincial newspaper with a big circulation in this part of England. A headline leapt out at her.

'RITCHIE CALHOUN IN CHOPPER CRASH'

Ritchie was well known throughout the area, so it didn't suprise her that the newspaper should give so much space to his helicopter crashing.

"They got the news so fast!" she commended before she began to read, and then her face drained of colour. She read the piece again before looking up at Ritchie.

'Ritchie Calhoun, who has been in England for a few days or more has been in a helicopter crash yesterday together with her secretary Mrs Linzi York who seems to be with his lover and his company pilot Mr Ted Hobson who was now still in the hospital because of an injuries on the head. Mean while, Mr Calhoun and his secretary, Mrs York has no injuries and were release by the doctors and were currently staying at a hotel nearby named, Green Man, together. Police are still looking what cause their helicopter went crashing........, '

"They make it sound...,"
He nodded. "As if we'd been staying here together since the weekend! I know." Linzi was appalled. "Why on earth have they done this?"

"Well, I have been staying here, of course," said Ritchie offhandedly. "Although I don't know how they found out about that! I can only think a reporter talked to someone at the police, including your name and the fact that you were my secretary, was told we'd be staying here last night, then rang up the Green Man, and was told I'd been a guest there for three days, already. They simply jumped to the conclusion that you had, too."

That made sense, and yet..., "It's the way they've written it....," Linzi said unhappily.