"When I was sixteen, they sent me to school in New York. That was the last time I saw them. "
"So they were idealists, too. "
"What do you mean, too?"
She saw no reason to put it into words, this knowledge shed gleaned over the years, cobbled together into an image of his life. "It doesnt matter. You were lucky to be raised by people who believed in something. "
He stared at her, frowning.
"Is that why you became a war correspondent? To fight in your own way?"
He sighed and shook his head, then walked over to the sofa and sat down beside her. The way he looked at her, as if she were somehow watery or out of focus, made her heartbeat speed up. "How do you do that?"
"What?"
"Know me?"
She smiled, hoping it didnt look as brittle as it felt. "Weve worked together a long time. "
It was a long moment before he said, "Why are you really quitting, Mularkey?"
She leaned back a little. "Remember when you said it was awful to want something you cant have? Im never going to be a kick-ass reporter or a first-rate producer. I dont live and breathe the news. Im tired of not being good enough. "
"I said, it was awful to want someone you couldnt have. "
"Well . . . its all the same. "
"Is it?" He put his drink on the coffee table.
She shifted her weight to face him, pulled her legs up underneath her. "I know about wanting someone. "
He looked skeptical. No doubt he was thinking about the times Tully teased her about never dating. "Who?"
She knew she should lie, gloss over the question, but just now, with him so close, she felt a wave of longing that nearly overwhelmed her. God help her, but that door seemed opened again. Though she knew it wasnt, knew it was an illusion, she walked through it anyway. "You. "
He drew back; it was obvious that hed never imagined this. "You never . . . "
"How could I? I know how you feel about Tully. "
She waited for him to say something, but he just looked at her. In the silence, she could make up anything. He hadnt said no, hadnt laughed. Maybe that meant something.
For years, shed expended effort to keep the faucet of her longing for him turned off, but now that he so close, there was no holding back. This was her last chance. "Kiss me, Johnny. Show me Im wrong to want you. "
"I wouldnt want to hurt you. Youre a nice girl, and Im not looking for—"
"What if not kissing you hurts me?"
"Katie . . . "
For once, she wasnt Mularkey. She leaned closer. "Now whos afraid? Kiss me, Johnny. "
Just before her lips touched his, she thought she heard him say, "This is a bad idea," but before she could reassure him, he was kissing her back.
It wasnt the first time Kate had been kissed; it wasnt even the first time shed been kissed by a man she cared about, and yet, absurdly, she started to cry.
He tried to pull away when he noticed her tears, but she wouldnt let him. One moment they were on the sofa, making out like teenagers; the next thing she knew, she was on the floor in front of the fire, naked.
He knelt beside her, still clothed. Shadows concealed half his body and highlighted the sharp angles and hollows of his face. "Are you sure?"