Operation Heartbreaker by Christine Thomas Page B

details. “My parents died when I was three. That’s why my, um, uncle took me in.” She lowered her eyes and stared at the tray without really looking. Her vision blurred, and though she was fighting it, a variety of emotions tackled her: Sadness, anger, fear and…hope.
    Was she loosing it now or where were these feelings coming from all of the sudden? On the other hand, she’d barely had an opportunity to digest the events of the last forty-eight hours. When they weren’t running, they were deciphering idiotic data files, trying to bring them into logical coherence.
    Now Viktor had this devastating effect on her, something, next to a thousand other things, she didn’t understand. Even though he was a stranger, he appeared oddly familiar. In his presence she felt as if she was made of glass. Transparent and vulnerable. Ever since the assault she hated being exposed, but with him it was different. His presence confused the hell out of her, just like his demeanor. It was as if he was two people in one. The player on the outside, crushing hearts for a sport, an image he cultivated for the press. But inside was a totally different person, one Viktor skillfully hid. He saw deeper than one would give him credit for. She only knew because of her skills. Did he throw himself so excessively into the Paris nightlife to numb himself just like she was popping her pills?
    This interview was supposed to enlighten the darkness of his past. It was meant to bring the Prince of Night , as he’d been called in a commentary once, closer to her readers. The true Viktor, not the polished façade he was presenting the media.
    But honestly, right now there were totally different questions burning under her nails. Like who was the man she’d been living all her life under the same roof with. Moreover what about her parents and their dubious disappearance? And what was the story behind her heart medication?
    But the primary question was who she, Alienor Reynolds, really was. Where did she come from? The answer to that scared the living daylight out of her.
    Suddenly, the couch moved and Viktor sat next to her. “I’m sorry,” he remarked, and Ally had trouble concentrating. Crap, what the heck had she just asked him?
    He tenderly caressed her cheeks with the knuckle, leaving a hot trace on her skin. “You look as if you need a hug.”
    She shook her head. This was so going wrong. “Well, actually this was supposed to be an interview about you.” Before she royally screwed up, that is.
    “I think we have better things to do.”
    Come again?
    When she looked up he smiled and nodded towards her iPad on the lounge table. “Check your mails. You’ve already held this interview in the morning. Therefore the earlier flight, because I couldn’t arrange it any other way.”
    Ally stared at him as if he was speaking Swahili.
    “I was so thankful,” he continued unmoved, “that I sent the finished interview to your chief editor, Renée what’s-her-name? She is ecstatic, by the way.”
    For a moment she was speechless.
    “You did… what?” She jumped up.
    “You should have heard her, she was thrilled to bits. I think she is more than willing to reemploy you.”
    Ally extended her index finger like a weapon. “How…?” Her voice quivered with outrage before cracking. She cleared her throat and tried again. “How could you do that?” And how the heck did he know Renée had kicked her out?
    “Don’t thank me. It was my pleasure.” The taunt in his voice was evident und could hardly be overheard.
    Arrogant prick! Had she really just thought about how comfortable she felt in his presence? How sensitive he was and that there was more to him than the self-absorbed bastard he was known for? That’s the proof that she’d lost her marbles. “Why am I even here, if you kill the game yourself?”
    “That,” he said and held out one hand to her, “is the question at hand.”
    Now it was official, the guy had a few screws loose.
    She