It hit me in the diner that nothing had been decided about the column, that theres still a whole host of things against this. I got confused and scared, I guess.

The woman inside Rachel warred with the reporter. Unfortunately, the reporter won.

She clicked on the icon with her name and read, "Notes for CitySights article on Rachel Scott "Note to self: Be tough, Dylan. Make this cutting edge like your other stories.

"These are the facts: "Rachel Scott works 24/7.

"She is acutely ambitious. No personal life. (Absence of friends and time spent with family. No one to take care of her when ill?)"

Rachel closed her eyes to take in breath. She read two more indictments.

Tears p.r.i.c.kled against her eyelids, but she finished the list.

"Shes devious and underhanded. Doesnt abide by promises. (Sneaking into Aidans wedding-no cameras, I promise.) "And why: need to succeed, parental disapproval, family of stars.

"Note to self: Check with papers lawyers: can I include things about her family, even though I signed a piece of paper not to? No witnesses? Legally binding?"

Suddenly, Rachel was cold. The blanket, previously warming her, wasnt enough to fight the chill starting deep within her. Her hands shook as she stared at the incriminating words. A kernel of hope surfaced, and she scrolled down the page to see if there was more or if hed written something after this, something different.

She encountered only a white s.p.a.ce.

And for the first time since...she didnt know when...Rachel put her head in her hands and cried.

Dylan had been wrong about his family getting together after they closed the bar. By midnight, Ma and Pa had gone to bed. Theyd let the newlyweds head home early, as well as Aidan and C.J.. Left in the pub were Dylan, Pat and Brie and Sweeney.

Singing an Irish tune, Dylan picked up the last of the gla.s.ses on the tables. "Youre in my heart, la.s.s, and youll always be..." d.a.m.ned if he didnt feel that way. He knew as he watched Rachel asleep on the floor earlier today that shed burrowed into his heart and found a place there. He also knew there would be no book deal. Why had he ever entertained the notion? He could never, ever hurt her by convincing the public she was a cruel b.i.t.c.h who cared only about ambition. And he could never reveal her insecurities about her family and herself.

He sang a little louder, "My love will be as vast as the ocean sea," and repeated the refrain.

Did he love her? Today he was overflowing with feelings for her. But was it the real thing-like his brothers had with their wives? He thought so. At least, he was halfway there. And the emotion stirring inside him felt so good.

Sweeney interrupted his song and his thoughts as he headed out the front door. "Thanks guys, I enjoyed today."

"Anytime," Pat called out to him.

Theyd locked the front door, and after Sweeney opened it, he stopped. Someone had come up to the entrance from the outside. Dylan couldnt hear what the other person said, but Sweeney turned to him. "Dylan, a messenger has something for you."

Thinking of the KPRAY pickets that morning, he asked, "Is it ticking?"

"Nah, its too small."

Crossing to the front, Dylan took the envelope and fished into his pocket for a tip. The messenger held up his hand. "No, Ms. Scott already did that."

Sweeney left and Dylan grinned down at the envelope. There hadnt been a minute to call her all day, and hed even missed her show, though he always taped it. Now shed sent him something by private messenger. A love note saying she adored being with him today, adored him? His heart swelled as his brain filled with more images of her.

Not wanting to open the delivery in front of Pat, he shot a quick glance to see his brother and Brie sharing an Irish coffee at the bar and talking intimately. Walking back to the side of the room, he dropped down onto a chair at the same table where Rachel had thrown her whiskey at him. Theyd come so far. Like a little kid, he ripped open the flap.

What the h.e.l.l? Inside was a copy of one of his columns. He scanned it. No, this was the draft for a possible column, which hed written when he came home from meeting her on location, when he was torn between his feelings for her and the need to still write objectively about her. After hed typed the words onto a page, hed trashed the doc.u.ment. He reread it.

At the end was a handwritten note. In Rachels pretty script. "So, you seduced me to get information for your column? You lied about everything. What a fool I was! If the agreement was all a sham to you, then vice versa. All bets are off." It was signed, "Miss America."

Chapter 16.

Rachel watched the tape of her show at home. Shed escaped the studio without their usual debriefing, pleading a headache, ignoring her staffs questions about the surprise ending, which shed ad-libbed. Now she watched herself come on-screen. She looked self-contained and calm, when in truth, she was devastated by Dylans betrayal. She saw herself beat the pain, lift her chin and smile at the camera. Rachel knew how to handle negative feelings: work hard and forget them.

She faltered a few times, as if shed lost her train of thought, but no one else would notice, she guessed. She seemed happy to talk to a governor of another state, someone from PFLAG, an LGBT organization, a woman whod saved a babys life on the highway. Ah, here was the last little piece of news. Shed faced the audience and smiled. "So, its been a long time since this show aired anything about its favorite son and his wife and her family. But Ive got a scoop for you. What are the ONeils really like personally? Stay tuned beginning next Monday, for a week of exclusives that will give insights into this famous New York family."

There, shed done it. Learning what Dylan thought of her, what he planned to do with the private things shed told him, had cut her to the core. But f.u.c.k him. f.u.c.k Dylan ONeil.

Though it was late, she went to her computer and called up the notes shed taken on what hed told her. She hadnt included any personal revelations because they were supposed to be off-limits. But if he was going to use her background, she was d.a.m.n well going to use his. She began to type.

"-The elder Paddy ONeil (get pics)left his family and had an affair. Scarred everyone, especially Dylan.

"-Child out of wedlock. (Research girl gangs, esp. the GGs.) Moria (last name?) taken in by sainted Mary Kate ONeil. Sister to Second Lady-born the same year. Gang involvement. Ms. ONeil starts ESCAPE later. As tribute to her sister?

"-Oldest ONeil. Patrick; hardheaded, hes the most ornery, troubled marriage (check wifes and his background for skeletons.)"

The piece de resistance-shed be most cutting here: "Dylan ONeil: overly protective of family because of Paddys actions; cause of his columns content-protect people. Everybodys Favorite Ladys Man (find pics of girls on arm.) Bad, bad marriage. (Stephanie and boutique.)Son caught in middle."

That halted her.

Dear G.o.d, could she do that to an innocent kid? Yes, shed do what she had to. Shed spent her professional life making hard decisions and choices. This was just another one.

After making espresso, she searched the internet on the family and wrote all night, not wanting to sleep or dream. At seven a.m., she had to get ready for her dance cla.s.s. As she headed to the shower, she felt better, knowing she wouldnt be played by Dylan ONeil-ever again.

Strung so tight it hurt to move and not trusting himself to drive, Dylan pulled up to DanceWorks in a cab. Her cla.s.s ended at nine and hed timed his arrival so he could catch her before she left but when shed be alone. Rachel said the owner of the dance studio started at ten on Sat.u.r.days.

He was right on time. Little kids in black-and-pink attire, bought, he now knew, by Rachel, flowed out of the second floor and down the stairs. One girl came up to him. "h.e.l.lo, Mr. ONeil."

Despite the circ.u.mstances, he forced a smile. "Kammy, hi. How are things going?"

The glow on her face answered his question. "Good. Um, thanks for bringing Ms. Rachel to my house."

"Anytime, sweetheart."

When the girls left, he climbed the stairs and found Rachel still at the barre. Standing on one leg in toe shoes, she lifted her other foot straight up beside her head. Awed at how talented she was, he just watched her. Pain, quick and dirty, hit him in the gut, but he couldnt take his eyes off her. Finally she caught sight of him in the mirror. Coming down slowly, she turned to face him. She wore a long dance skirt, tights and a fitted, pink sweater. "Im surprised to see you." Her tone was cut-gla.s.s cold.

"We had a date this morning."

She leaned against the barre and the lines on her face, the smudges under her eyes told him she hadnt slept. Neither had he. Still, she lifted her chin. "Didnt you get my message?"

"Yes, loud and clear." He walked closer to her. "We have to talk."

"Were done talking, Dylan. Were done, period."

"If thats what you want. But Ill have my say. Can we go somewhere?"

"No."

"Cla.s.ses start at ten. I dont want a time constraint."

"Not that I care what you want anymore, but Sylvia has a compet.i.tion today with her older kids. All cla.s.ses are canceled."

He glanced around. "Is there an office or a place where we can sit?"

She shook her head. All that beautiful hair was back in a bun, ballerina style, making her features stand out starkly. "Heres good."

Crossing his arms over his chest, he said, "I wrote what you found on my computer the day I left the lunch we had on location. Before I came back to the studio that night."

Her cheeks turned pink, then an angry shade of red. "You wrote that column and then made love to me? You b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

"I wrote another one, too. Praising you."

"No, you didnt. Silly me, I checked, thinking that you might be working something out in your head. There was nothing after the negative one."

"I wrote it in a different file and saved it. I trashed the column you saw." When she started to speak, he held up his hand. "No, listen. After I got your message, I checked the computer. The first one didnt make it to the trash icon."

Her eyes narrowed and she shook her head. "How convenient."

"Theres something more important you need to know."

"What?"

"Im falling in love with you."

Her eyes widened and she lurched forward, lifted her arm and slapped him across the face. He recoiled with the force of the blow.

"I hate you for saying that. For trying to manipulate me with those words."

He grabbed her hand so she couldnt hit him again. His face stung like a son of a b.i.t.c.h. "Its the truth."

Moving back, she grabbed the barre with both hands and took in a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "No, I wont be conned by the great Dylan ONeil again. Im done with you."

"Give me one chance to prove to you that Im telling the truth."

"You dont know the meaning of the word truth." Shaking her head, she let out a nasty laugh. "Your Irish luck has run out, Dylan." She motioned to the door. "Now leave me alone, forever."

"I want another chance," he repeated.

"Do you seriously think Ill ever believe anything you say again?"

"Please, Rach."

"Dont call me that." He started toward her. "No. Dont come closer. Were through, Dylan. You tricked me and used me and now Im going to get even."

He couldnt believe this. He honestly thought shed be reasonable. "I saw the show. Youre going to expose my familys secrets? Our bad times?"

"Ah, so thats why you came spouting words of love. To keep me from giving my little segments about each of you all next week?"

"I came to explain the column you found. And to tell you how I feel."

"I dont believe you."

It hit him then. He wasnt going to be able to fix this. And his heart broke at all hed told her about Aidan, Liam, Pat, Bay and Ma and Pa. G.o.d, hed never forgive himself. "Then spare my family."

"You should have thought of this sooner. Before you canceled the deal about no personal stuff. Youre going to reveal my worst secret, how my family treats me. Im returning the favor."

"Say anything you want about me. Ill even give you more dirt on my life. Salacious stuff. Just dont hurt Bailey and the guys." His voice cracked on the last words.

Her face remained stone cold.

His chest tightened. "Please, Rachel."

Nothing.

Panicky now, it took him a minute to collect himself. "That book deal we were going to talk about this morning? Franklin House wants to publish my columns with editorial comments."

"I dont care what you do anymore."

"You will. They want scathing second columns on KPRAY and you, or theres no deal."

The tears that formed in her eyes cut him to the bone, but he continued. "Your family will be humiliated if I do include what your relationship is like with them. Public humiliation might even keep you from getting your foreign reporter job."

"You came armed with that, didnt you?"

"No, I came to convince you of how I felt and ask you not to hurt my family." He did move in closer, despite her protest. He could see the fear in her beautiful green eyes. "I care about you, Rachel, a lot. We might have had a future together. But believe me, if you dare to reveal one word of what I told you, Ill take the book contract and destroy you."

"And if I dont use the information?"

"Ill reject the deal." Turning, he walked toward the door.

"Dylan?"

He stopped but couldnt look at her again. "What?"

"What were you going to do about the book deal before I found your notes?"