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Striker. Michelle Betham
Читать онлайн.Название Striker
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780007562138
Автор произведения Michelle Betham
Жанр Современные любовные романы
Издательство HarperCollins
Amber looked at him. ‘Is it really that bad? Do I really come across as cold?’
‘Not all the time, no. But you always come across as incredibly professional.’
‘And what’s wrong with that?’
Ronnie leaned forward again, smiling as he looked at her. ‘Nothing. There’s nothing wrong with that. But I know you, Amber. And I know you’re anything but cold. I just think you put up too many barriers. It’s almost like you’re afraid to let anyone in.’
Amber said nothing, just took another sip of champagne.
‘Don’t you get lonely?’ Ronnie asked. She was such a beautiful woman, he found it difficult to understand how she was still alone after all this time. Since their brief relationship all those years ago he didn’t think she’d been seriously involved with anyone. She’d certainly never spoken to him about any relationships she’d been in or any men she’d met. Yet, she spent her life around men. So surely she couldn’t have been alone for all that time?
‘I haven’t got time to be lonely, Ronnie. I’m a busy girl.’
He sat back again, pushing both hands through his hair, his brown eyes still looking straight at her. ‘Hmm… well, you know what they say – all work and no play makes Amber one very boring young lady.’
She stuck her tongue out at him before taking another sip of champagne. She could get a taste for this, she thought, as the cool bubbles slid effortlessly down her throat. She could feel it going to her head already, but it was a nice feeling. Maybe Ronnie was right. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to enjoy herself for once.
‘Refill?’ Ronnie asked, knowing for sure he’d hit a nerve now. She listened to him, so he hoped that she’d taken what he’d said the right way. He didn’t want to criticise her, he just wanted her to know that he cared about her, and all he wanted was for her to be happy. To make the most of her life. To have some fun.
‘Yeah. Why not?’ Amber smiled, holding out her empty glass for him to fill up. ‘I might as well start the night as I mean to go on.’
‘Is that a promise?’ Ronnie grinned, filling up his own empty glass.
‘Yeah. It’s a promise,’ she laughed. She just hoped it wouldn’t be one she’d end up regretting in the morning.
Ryan pushed his way through the crowd, for once glad that it was so busy hardly anyone recognised him. If he saw someone he wanted to get to know better he’d make himself known. Why attract all and sundry when he didn’t really have the energy to fight off the ones he couldn’t be bothered with? Ryan Fisher was picky when it came to women, despite what the papers might say to the contrary.
‘Shit! Jesus, will you look where you’re going?’
Ryan stopped and turned around, coming face-to-face with the last person he’d expected to see in a busy Newcastle bar on a Wednesday night. He just hadn’t had her down as the type of person to have fun on a weeknight. He didn’t have her down as the type of person to have fun, full stop. He suspected she’d been one of those kids who’d always handed their homework in on time, too.
‘Well, hello there, Ms. Sullivan. We meet again.’ He flashed her the famous Ryan Fisher smile, to no effect. Christ, she was a hard one to crack. But he was almost turned on at the prospect of the challenge.
‘Sorry would have been nice,’ Amber muttered, rubbing her shoulder. ‘You nearly took my arm off there.’
‘Okay… Sorry.’ He was still smiling, and Amber didn’t know whether that was making her angrier, or whether it was actually diffusing a situation that didn’t really need to become heated. At least four other people had bumped into her harder than he had just then, yet she hadn’t called any of those out for doing so.
‘Apology accepted,’ she said, repositioning the strap of her dress back on her shoulder. Very nice shoulders, too, Ryan thought.
‘You here on your own?’ Ryan asked, shoving his hands in the pockets of his black jeans.
Amber narrowed her eyes as she looked at him. Was there no end to this man’s rudeness? Although, he did have really beautiful eyes. A deep blue colour that Amber had never seen before. Jesus, that champagne really must have gone to her head.
Ryan reached out to quickly grab her arm as she briefly lost her balance. ‘Whoa there, gorgeous. You been knocking them back like there’s no tomorrow, then?’
Amber ignored him, trying desperately to sober up, pulling her arm free from his grip. ‘If you’ll excuse me…’
‘Are you here with Ronnie White?’ Ryan asked, not caring that he was getting personal again and that it was something she quite obviously didn’t like. Tough. He wanted to know what was going on there. Gary had said there was nothing between the ex-footballer and this incredibly pretty sports reporter, but what did he know? He’d rather hear it from her. Although the chance that she was going to impart any information to him on that score was probably less than zero.
Amber looked at him, right into those deep-blue eyes, and she had to steady herself again by grabbing onto the table behind her as her heart gave another surprise somersault. She really had to start eating more before she drank alcohol. She just wasn’t used to these kinds of nights out anymore.
‘What’s it got to do…?’
‘With me? Nothing. It’s got nothing to do with me. Not really. But, hey, I just want to know. And you get nowt if you don’t ask, do you?’
Amber couldn’t help smiling. His cocky attitude was something she truly hadn’t come across in such close proximity before, despite all her time around footballers just as famous as he was. But his Geordie accent was just a little bit sexy. She couldn’t deny that. She’d always loved the Geordie accent. And all that time away from the North East certainly hadn’t softened his.
‘You’re smiling,’ Ryan pointed out. Was he making progress here? Was he actually beginning to melt the ice-queen’s frosty exterior?
‘Am I?’ Amber asked, knowing that she was, and not really caring. She was having a great time tonight, even if she had somehow found herself in the middle of some sort of conversation with Ryan Fisher, arrogant bastard and self-styled northern playboy. And now she couldn’t even remember the question he’d asked her not two minutes ago. ‘Sorry, did you just ask me something?’
‘Are you here with Ronnie White? I mean, I know you said you’re just friends, but, someone told me you two used to go out, once-upon-a-time.’
‘Did they now,’ Amber said. It wasn’t a question.
‘You never told me that.’
‘Because it’s got nothing to do with you.’
‘So, did you? Go out with Ronnie White, I mean. Only, I hear you’ve got a bit of a strict “no footballers” rule going on.’
‘You’ve been hearing a lot tonight, haven’t you?’
‘Makes a change to hear stuff about other people, rather than me.’
‘Must be such a pain in the arse, not being the centre of attention.’
Ryan shrugged. ‘It’s good to get a night off.’
She couldn’t help smiling again, despite herself.
‘Anyway, you haven’t answered my question. You and Ronnie White…’
Amber looked over towards the corner table where Ronnie was talking into his mobile phone, laughing at whatever was being said down the line. ‘This really has got absolutely nothing to do with you, and I don’t even know why I’m telling you, but yes, we used to go out. For all of five minutes, really.’
‘Nothing mind-blowingly serious, then?’
She