Angel Falls (Angel Falls Series, #1)

tone may have been less than pleasant.
“Casey, lass.” Ian’s voice was sexy and deep. “It’s so nice to hear your lovely voice.”
I figured he was being sarcastic, so I responded the same way. “Well, I know you’re not calling because the music’s too loud, so...”
His rich chuckle rumbled across the phone line. “I’m calling to ask if you’ll come to dinner with me on Saturday. Please don’t say no.”
“No.” But a shiver of anticipation made my shoulders twitch.
“Come, now. Remember our conversation?” His voice was intoxicating as a whole bottle of Bailey’s Irish cream. “What are you afraid of?”
Pretty much everything.
Closing my eyes, I stroked Chester’s thick brown fur, entertaining visions of Ian’s kiss the week before.
I shouldn’t say yes.
I shouldn’t say yes.
I shouldn’t say yes.
I held my breath and imagined myself doing a swan-dive off the limestone cliffs of Angel Falls—and doing a belly-flop into the water below. “All right. I’ll come. What time?”

CHAPTER SIX
Propping my chin on my hand, I looked out over the dark river. The Riverboat Restaurant’s windows projected bars of light that floated like snakes on the rippled surface. My own image stared back at me from beyond the glass, a cameo hologram in space, my black velvet dress disappearing against the water’s inky backdrop.
Shifting my gaze, I could see Ian’s reflection, too. He leaned back in his chair, stirring his after-dinner coffee. The spoon made slow clinking sounds inside the cup. In black jeans and an even blacker linen shirt, he looked like a magazine advertisement for something very wicked and very, very expensive. I still didn’t know exactly what it was, but I knew I wanted it, hoped I could afford it.
I fiddled with my almost-empty wine glass, twirling the stem in my hand.
Ian’s golden gaze settled on me. “You look lovely, as always. But tired, too. Are you not sleeping well?”
“No. I close my eyes and all I can see is...” I folded the big cloth napkin in my lap, in half and then in half again.
“It will get better.” His voice was low and soothing. “I promise it will.”
“How do you know?” There was more than a trace of bitterness in my voice but I couldn’t keep it out, even knowing he was only trying to help.
“I’ve lived through it myself.”
“Your best friend died in a car accident right before your eyes?” I regretted my words the second they left my lips. Regretted them even more when I saw his sad smile. A smile that hinted at a deeply-embedded pain that still stung. I leaned across the table and covered his hand with mine. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“That’s all right.” He turned his palm up and threaded his fingers through mine. “It was a long time ago.”
“What happened?”
“My wife committed suicide.”
“God, Ian! I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said—”
“You’re angry. I understand. I remember the anger, too.” Ian looked down at the table while he spoke. His voice was flat, emotionless. “I wanted to kill Maeve even though she’d already done it herself.”
“Why would she—” I stopped myself. This was none of my business. But still, I wanted to know. “If you don’t mind telling me, I mean.”
Ian gracefully picked up the ball I’d fumbled. “She’d been diagnosed with bipolar disorder and depression, and whenever I went on assignment she’d stop taking her medication and threaten to kill herself. I convinced myself she was making threats to manipulate me. I told her she could do what she wanted, and I went anyway.” He glanced up, guilt and grief reflected in his eyes.
“Why didn’t she want you to do your job? That seems a little selfish.”
“As a journalist, I was often sent to political hot spots, and she worried. A certain element of danger was expected. I was willing to take the risk, because I knew it would advance my career. I didn’t realize it was Maeve’s safety I was risking. Not until it was too late.”
“Oh, Ian.”
“She waited until I was on my way home from the airport. I don’t think she planned to die. I was supposed to arrive in time to save her. But a colleague who was on the same flight asked me to meet him for a beer on the way home, and I said yes.” Chagrin curled the corners of his mouth. “I was furious at her, at myself, at the whole world.”
“How long—”
“It was more than ten years ago.”
“Does it still... Does it still bother you? I mean, how do you get over...” my voice trailed away as I struggled to find the right words.
“Feeling like you’ve failed someone you love in the worst way possible?”
His quiet tone held an underlying bitterness I couldn’t miss.
The waiter placed a leather bill folder on table edge. Ian pulled his hand from beneath mine and dealt with the bill while I stared out over the water.
“Shall we go?” Ian stood and offered me his hand.
“Yes, but...” I put my hand in his, waiting to hear the answer to the question he’d helped me ask. But his face had a shuttered expression, as if the door he’d opened to me had just slammed closed. I knew he had revealed all he meant to. But I’d glimpsed a sensitive, caring man hidden behind the tough façade.
And I wanted to see more.
He unlocked the car and helped me inside. Then he got in, and I realized that something between us had shifted. He’d let me see inside his heart, even though it was only a quick glimpse, and I felt connected to him in a way I hadn’t felt with anyone in a very long time. My breath started coming faster—that testosterone thing he’d done to me already—and I parted my lips to breathe through my mouth.
His eyes dropped to my lips, then back up again to meet my gaze.
He leaned toward me.
I leaned toward him, across the car’s console. Our breath mingled. He wrapped gentle fingers around my shoulder and pulled me closer. I could taste