For the first time since his agent’s call yesterday, Harrison laughed. “I can’t wait to see what you think of our hotel.”
Kenzie couldn’t wait either. “What’s the name of it?”
“The Conrad New York.” He shrugged. “I figured it had my name on it.”
* * *
Conrad had never cared muchfor big cities. Maybe it was the homesteader in him, but he didn’t see the point of living crowded together with so many other people. There was too much noise, too much trash and pollution, too many assholes. But seeing the city through Kenzie’s eyes made it fun.
She squealed at the hotel room with its view of the Hudson River, gaped wide-eyed up at the skyscrapers, moaned at the taste of the New York-style pizza slices they had for lunch sitting on a bench in Central Park, and wept as her fingers traced the names of the dead at the 9/11 memorial.
Conrad wondered what it must be like to live with such an open heart. Had he ever been that untouched, that innocent?
They went back to the hotel and changed for dinner, he into his old, wrinkled tux, which the hotel staff had pressed into a respectable state, and she into that sexy red dress.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” He’d bought VIP passes for dinner with a view at the State Bar and Grill in the Empire State Building so that she could see the sunset.
She stared down from the observation deck. “It’s beautiful—like a forest of buildings and fairy lights.”
He’d never thought of it that way before. He’d only ever seen the steel and concrete, the asphalt, the traffic, the crowds.
“Have you ever climbed anything this tall from bottom to top?”
“El Capitan is more than twice this height. So is the Dawn Wall.”
“No way!”
“Way.”
The food was fantastic, but Conrad could barely taste it, his senses focus on the beautiful woman who sat across from him—the sparkle in her blue eyes, her luminous skin, the sweetness of her laugh. He wasn’t the only one staring. The server was so fixed on her cleavage that Conrad was afraid he’d miss their champagne glasses altogether.
Yeah. Been there. Done that.
They took a cab back to their hotel, Conrad’s fingers twined with hers, champagne warming his blood. Back in their room, he undressed her, kissed every inch of her, lost himself inside her.
She fell asleep in his arms, but Conrad couldn’t sleep at all.
* * *
Her stomach swarming with butterflies,Kenzie sat in a chair just off the set, watching while the hosts of the Good Day Show talked about the weather. They had taken Harrison backstage the moment they had arrived and given Kenzie a tour of the studio before offering her a cup of coffee and seat where she’d be able to watch Harrison’s interview.
Kenzie was afraid for him. She knew him well enough now to see what a strain this was on him emotionally. He hadn’t said a word in the cab all the way here, his body radiating tension, lines of fatigue on his face. He was going to have to tell the entire story again, which meant he would have to relive all of it—the horror, the grief, the guilt.
God, how she wished he had opened up to Esri and let her help. His nightmares had gotten worse after the interview with Wendy. What would this interview do to him?
Even the strongest person could take only so much.
“Coming up next, a story of courage, loss, and heroism on Mount Everest. Celebrated mountain climber Harrison Conrad is here to talk about the catastrophe that claimed the lives of his friends and almost killed him.”
Pablo, the young man who’d given her a tour of the studio, hurried over to her. “Can I get you more coffee?”
“That would be great. Thanks.” She handed him her empty cup.
“If there’s one thing we never run out of in this studio, it’s coffee.”
She could believe that. She and Harrison had gotten up at five a.m.—three in the morning Colorado time—to get here by seven. For the staff, getting up early was just part of their job.
