He wanted to wrap her in his arms and protect her from everything that had and could hurt her, but he knew better than to think it was possible. She needed to face this challenge. They needed to face it together if they ever wanted to have a future.
“I’ve seen them,” he said, his jaw clenched tight. “And I’m going to kill the bastard who doctored them and put them up there.”
“You’ll have to find the person first.”
He inclined his head. “I intend to. But I’m more worried about you.” This composed, sedate woman sitting in front of him wasn’t the Amy he thought he’d find.
He’d figured she’d be angry and fired up. Furious at him just because he was the easiest target.
“I know how you feel about this kind of thing and I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t promise you something like this won’t happen again, but I swear, I’ll do my best to see it doesn’t.”
She shook her head. “I’m afraid that’s not enough. You are who you are. You’re John Roper, center fielder for the best team in New York. You’re a celebrity, and let’s face it, you love being one. I can’t ask you not to be you.”
Was that a glimmer of deeper understanding he saw? A flicker of hope rose inside him that maybe, just maybe, being in this job, in this city, had taught her to come around. Could that explain the calm a
ura around her.
“Thank you for that. But you’re you. We can certainly work around both,” he assured her.
He stepped closer, intending to circle around the desk and take her in his arms, but her words stopped him.
“That’s not possible, John, and it’s naive to think it is.” She drew a deep breath. “Being a couple isn’t working for me. The photographers are relentless. Being friends won’t work, either. Even if I were just your assistant, it wouldn’t keep me out of the media spotlight. And that’s just not a place I want to be. So I’ve decided to ask Micki to reassign me. Permanently.” Her voice cracked but her composure didn’t.
The only sign that she was upset was the fact that her knuckles had turned white.
But Roper didn’t have her composure. He snapped, losing his patience. In a heartbeat he strode around the desk and grasped her by the shoulders, spinning her chair around to face him.
She gasped and squirmed, but he didn’t release his grip. “What is wrong with you?” she asked, emotion showing at last.
“You’re wrong. This is wrong.”
“Because I don’t want to sleep with you anymore?” she said without meeting his gaze. “Or because I don’t like your high-profile life?”
“Because you care about me as much as I care about you. You’re using this ‘I hate being in the public eye’ thing as an excuse not to be with me,” he said, his frustration at an all-time high.
She finally met his gaze. “Pardon me if it bothers me to see myself naked on the Internet!” she spat.
“We both know it isn’t your body. I’ll take a freaking billboard in Manhattan if that’s what it takes to convince you I love you!” he yelled at her.
She stilled and stopped pulling away from him. Her eyes filled with tears. “I love you, too,” she said softly.
Relief swamped him. “Then get angry at whoever is doing this to us. React, instead of being this monotone robot without feelings. Fight for us, dammit!”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
He leaned closer. “Why the hell not?” he asked, seeking an answer to the one question he didn’t understand. “We can ignore the press and focus on us. It isn’t easy, but we can do it.”
“You can. I can’t.”
“Because…” he prompted.
“Because when I’m with you, I’m everything I’ve spent a lifetime trying to avoid.”
He gentled his grip on her shoulders. “In English, please. I’m just not understanding.”
She swiped at a tear running down her face. “I don’t want to be the crazy lady arrested by airport security for making a scene. I don’t want to be caught making love to you in front of a glass window by paparazzi with cameras. No, those photos on the Internet aren’t of us, but they could have been!”
He finally got it and let out a low groan. “You don’t want to end up like your mother, and being with me increases the chances that when you finally let go and act like yourself, you’ll be caught by the press.”