âIâve seen it happen before. An excellent reporter goes through a close call, sees someone they know die right in front of them, whatever, and they start cutting back on the risks. Theyâre a little more hesitant, they play it a little safer. Or they do the opposite and turn into some sort of rogue I canât control. Either way, a reporter like that is no good to me.â
Anger filled her at the grim picture he presented. âAre you saying Iâll never be able to do this job again?â
âNever as well,â he said bluntly. âYouâre beautiful and smart and talented. Put all of that to work for you back home. If not in South Carolina, then at the network in New York or Washington. I can get a transfer authorized anytime you say the word. Find yourself a real life and live it. What we do over here, itâs necessary, but itâs not living. Itâs courting death.â
âAre you telling me this just because Iâm a woman?â she asked heatedly. âThatâs a little sexist even for you.â
âMaybe so,â he admitted candidly. âMostly, though, Iâm telling you this stuff because I like you. I want to know youâre out there somewhere safe and happy. I donât ever want to have to make the same call to your folks that Iâve had to make to other reportersâ relatives.â
Dinah drew in a deep breath and asked him the question that was burning in her gut. âSpell it out for me,Ray. Are you telling me I canât come back, that you donât want me here?â
Ray hesitated before replying. âNo,â he said with obvious reluctance. âThe network would have my head for saying this, but Iâm telling you I hope like hell you wonât.â
He regarded her with a worried frown. âListen to me, okay? Think about what Iâm saying. Youâve done the heroics, proved whatever you set out to prove to yourself. Youâre a top-notch journalist, one of the best, but maybe itâs time to stop and figure out who Dinah Davis really is.â
Her stomach sank. She thought she had figured that out the day she turned in her first television news report. Now this man she trusted was telling her sheâd gotten it wrong.
âThen you think I should quit?â she asked, hating the fact that her respect for him ran so deep that she was actually considering doing as he asked.
âYes,â he said firmly. âGet a real life, Dinah.â
She tried to picture the peaceful, ordinary life he was describing. The image eluded her. âYou actually think Iâm destined to be somebodyâs wife and mother?â she asked.
âWhy the hell not?â
âAnd if I decide that what I am is a foreign correspondent, that itâs all I was ever meant to be?â
He gave her a sad look. âThen I pity you.â
âItâs what youâve done all your life,â she reminded him.
âAnd look at me. No wife. No family. No one who gives a damn whether I come home or not. Thatâs not a fate Iâd wish on you. Isnât there someone back homeyou think about from time to time, some man who got away?â
Dinah started to shake her head, but then an image of Bobby Beaufort appeared in her mind. She couldnât stop the smile that spread across her face. It had been ages since sheâd thought about Bobby. Heâd been in her life almost as far back as she could remember. Heâd wanted to marry her, but sheâd turned him down to chase after her dream.
âThere,â Ray said triumphantly. âI knew it!â
âHe was no one special,â Dinah insisted. âJust a friend.â
A good friend whoâd promised to be around if she ever got tired of roaming the globe. If she was ready for love, she was supposed to turn to Bobby. She would always own a piece of his heart, at least thatâs what heâd claimed. All she had to do was come