by Jan Freed
She reached for a bar of soap and lathered, thinking of next week’s schedule and planning what to wear. In addition to the suit, she’d bought two new dresses. Then Brenda Lee had remembered Sam Parker’s promise to hold “one hell of a kickoff party” for the Regency Hotels campaign. They’d headed for the evening-dress section like giddy teenagers shopping for the prom.
She smiled at the thought of Harold Becker. The poor man wouldn’t have a chance once he saw Brenda Lee in black chiffon. Cutting off the water, Laura stepped out, toweled off and dusted with lavender-scented talcum powder. She didn’t dare let herself think about her own purchase. Loehmann’s didn’t allow returns.
Walking to her dresser, she pulled out panties and bra, then headed for the abandoned shopping bags. Sometime during the day, her desire to breach Alec’s defenses had strengthened. She sensed the darkness awaiting her, but also the promise of pleasure such as she’d never known. And Laura wanted to know it. Wanted, too, a chance to lighten the heart of a stern, impossibly demanding, undeniably good man.
She was no stranger to challenge. She’d always worked, competed and fought for what she wanted as aggressively as a man. But this would be the ultimate test of her courage.
Because now, for the first time in her life, she would fight as a woman.
* * *
ALEC SAT FORWARD in the stadium seat as if focused on the game’s action. In reality, his mind still reeled.
When he’d opened his door to Laura earlier, shock had wiped the welcoming smile off his face. It hadn’t come back, either, despite Jason’s puzzled glances at the adults he sat between. Alec knew he was being irrational, but damn it, why the hell had she gone and changed?
The prim-haired, scrubbed-face, innocent partner of old had robbed him of sleep more nights than one. This new Laura—the wavy-haired, sophisticated, sensual creature lounging with her feet propped on the empty seat ahead—oh, God, this new Laura could strip him of his sanity if he wasn’t careful.
Why the hell had she gone and changed?
Alec tugged down the bill of his baseball cap, shielding the direction of his gaze. Those legs. He ground his teeth and looked away. Slowly, helplessly, he looked back. Those long sleek legs had felt like warm satin when he’d tapped them on his way to the aisle. Laura had met his eyes with a startled look, then dropped her feet to the floor and let him pass.
But as soon as he’d returned with the hot dogs, up those legs had gone, as distracting as a triple play.
Her moss green shorts were modest by most standards. So why did he imagine those legs wrapped around his waist as he—
Alec groaned, thankful for the shortstop’s brilliant fielding and the crowd’s instant booing displeasure. Shifting in search of a comfortable position, he scowled. There was only one thing that would give him relief. Changing positions didn’t do it.
He glanced down at his son. Like Alec, Jason wore a navy Astros cap. But his blue eyes sparkled with excitement, and his mustard-stained mouth grinned, whereas Alec felt decidedly antisocial at the moment.
Wallowing in a blue funk, he ignored the crack of a bat and collective gasp from their section of the mezzanine. Everyone around him jumped up and reached for the foul ball. Head flung back, Laura strained forward and lifted her arms, pagan as a Viking ship’s prow.
Muttering a curse, he jerked off his cap and dropped it over his lap.
Two rows ahead, a teenaged boy caught the ball and raised his trophy for all to see. Laura laughed good-naturedly and glanced at Alec, her smile fading, then, oh, so slowly, reappearing in a different form. Gentle, mysterious, filled with tantalizing promise.
His testosterone level hit the sky boxes. And she knew it, damn her.
A small hand shook his shoulder. “Does that guy get to keep the ball, Dad?” Jason asked, his expression envious.
“He caught it, fair and square.” Jason thrust out his lower lip and flounced down in his seat along with the rest of the disappointed souvenir hunters.
“They’re selling autographed balls next to the concession stand. I’ll try and get you one before the game is over,” Alec promised.
Jason’s eyes widened. He fisted one hand and drew his elbow sharply into his waist.
“Yesss!”
Over the boy’s head, Alec met Laura’s amused grin and felt an answering tug at his mouth. This was Jason’s first visit to the Astrodome, and his excitement was contagious.
Alec had to admit the facility was an incredible place—especially since it was the first sports dome ever built. Over the years he’d sat from field box to sky box, and every seat offered a clear view of the infield action. Roving vendors, scoreboard antics and blessed air-conditioning kept fans comfortable and entertained. He sat back and decided to enjoy the spectacle.
By the seventh-inning stretch, he’d relaxed enough to invite Laura along while he bought the coveted autographed ball for Jason.
His son reached for it in awe. “Read me some of the names, Laura,” he pleaded, holding the stitched rawhide in front of her nose.
“Well, let’s see. There’s Nolan Ryan—”
Jason lowered the ball. “I wanna be a pitcher when I grow up.”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday. Why don’t you get your dad to throw a few practice balls with you?” she suggested, giving Alec a pointed look.
He’d planned on pouring over the final Regency Hotels media schedule all day tomorrow.
“Naw,” Jason spoke directly to Laura. “He won’t have time to play with me. He’s gotta work so we can pay the bills.”
Maybe the schedule could wait. Maybe he could manage both. “Who says I can’t play ball with you? I used to have a pretty mean curve in high school. But that’s a hard pitch to learn. We’ll have to start with the basics first,” Alec warned.
“You mean it, Dad?” At his father’s nod, Jason hopped in a circle, then threw his arms around Alec’s waist.
His heart contracted, then he felt an upsurge of happiness. He patted the small back awkwardly. Sensing Laura’s gaze, he looked up and basked in her soft approval.
Refusing to name the emotion filling his chest, Alec disengaged himself and cleared his throat. “Anyone want to leave now?”
“Nooo!” Jason wailed.
Laura feigned outrage. “And miss the Astros rally? Not a chance.”
“Last one back to their seat is a rotten egg,” Jason yelled, racing off in the direction they’d come.
Within seconds, he was swallowed up by the milling crowd.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ONE MINUTE Jason was in sight, the next he wasn’t.
Don’t panic, Alec cautioned himself. He moved forward at a normal pace, expecting to glimpse the small bobbing Astros cap any second. Laura fanned out parallel and they wove through the throng of people heading back to their seats.
Wait’ll he caught up with the kid. Man, would he give Jason an earful. Alec walked a little faster, searching the concourse ahead at child level. In this mob, he could pass right by his son and not know it. Would Jason have enough sense to stop at their section entrance and wait? Would he even remember what section their seats were in?
Speeding up to a half jog, his pulse a half-step faster, Alec scanned each inset ramp he passed. He hadn’t shown Jason the correct entrance sign or given him a ticket stub. What if he entered the wrong section? Would he ask a stranger for help?
Oh, God.
Breaking into a full jog, Alec spotted their entrance several sections ahead. His stomach rose in his throat, then plummeted to his toes. No little boy stood waiting against the wall. Where the hell was he?
Alec headed down the steps to check their seats. Empty. Ripping off his cap, he wiped his clammy brow with a shirtsleeve.
I should have talked with Jason about safety. I should have told him what to do if we got separated. I should have been a better father.
He ran back to the concourse and looked both directions. Across the crowd, Laura caught his eye and mouthed, “Jason?” He
shook his head and pointed to the right. Face pale and expression grim, she nodded her understanding. Alec took off to the left.
He checked the bathroom, the row of vendor carts, the concession stands—searching, searching...
With every passing second, his heart thudded louder, his inner voice screamed no, this couldn’t be happening. Stories of children kidnapped from shopping malls and amusement parks flashed in his mind, complete with heartbreaking endings.
He’d only taken his eyes off Jason for an instant. How could he have disappeared into thin air?
Memory ripped through Alec’s fear. He stopped and braced one hand against the wall, a solid link with the present while the past overwhelmed him.
He was seven years old, standing outside a bar in the cold and dark. His pop had told him to stay put, but hunger tore at his belly. He dug out the twenty-five cents hidden in his shoe and went in search of a candy bar. Within five minutes of wandering the seedy red-light district, he was lost.
Hours later a gruff cop delivered him, trembling and years wiser, to his mama just as she got home from her night shift at Denny’s. Mama had held him close and cried. His old man hadn’t staggered home until dawn.
Like father, like son.
Alec shuddered at the prophecy. He beat back the crawling horror and forced himself to think. He would have to contact security. Surely there were procedures in place for this kind of situation. Surely someone would notice and help a lost, or struggling, little boy. Surely—
“Dad!” Jason darted around a shuffling old man, sidestepped a lanky teen and pounded forward into Alec’s waiting arms.
Sweet Mary, the relief! It buckled Alec’s knees and left him shaking and dizzy. He treasured the feel of Jason’s small quivering body, then pulled back.
“Don’t ever run off like that again, Jason, especially in a crowd like this. Do you understand?”
Eyes welling with tears, Jason nodded. Laura raced up with a glad cry.
Alec shot her a warning glance. “Don’t look at her, son. Look at me when I’m talking to you. Do you have any idea how worried I was? Or what could have happened to you?”
Laura shifted from foot to foot.
“Next time we go someplace, first thing we’ll do is pick a spot we can both remember,” Alec said, ignoring the sound of Laura clearing her throat. “Then, if for some reason we get separated or if you can’t find me, you’re to go immediately to the place we agreed on and not move.” He ignored Laura’s heavy sigh. “Even if you have to wait for a long time, stay there and I promise I’ll come get you for.... For God’s sake, Laura, what is it?”
She stopped tapping her toe, uncrossed her arms and placed a hand over her chest with wide-eyed affront.
“Excuse me? I was just minding my own business. But as long as you asked, why don’t we go back to our seats? We all had a good scare. Everybody’s sorry. Now let’s put it behind us and enjoy the rest of the game.”
He glanced down at Jason’s whipped-puppy expression. During their moment of reunion, he’d clung like a suction cup. He wasn’t likely to run off again anytime soon.
Just to make sure, Alec leveled a stern look. “You promise to hold my hand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right. Let’s go back to our seats.”
Five minutes later, the Astros began a heroic comeback. By the bottom of the ninth, the score was tied seven to seven. The inevitable organ flourish sounded the battle call. Alec leaned forward right along with thirty thousand fevered fans.
“Charge!” he yelled, as the team’s power hitter stepped up to the plate.
Whack!
Everyone in the crowd surged to their feet. The Braves’ left fielder pumped full speed back...back... then slammed into the wall as the ball sailed over his reaching glove into the bleachers.
All hell broke loose in the Astrodome.
“Home run! Home run! We won!” Jason screamed, jumping up and down and clutching whatever parts of Alec and Laura’s clothing were within reach.
People poured out of their seats and into the aisles. It was a long walk to the parking lot. A long crowded walk. Alec planted a restraining hand on Jason’s shoulder and leaned down to speak in his ear.
“Don’t rush off. Now get your drinking cup. Yes, you get to keep it. Put your ball inside and I’ll carry them for you.”
Face stricken, Jason searched near his feet.
“Jaason,” Alec said on a groan.
His son raised panicked eyes. “I just had it, Dad. What’d you do with it?”
“What did I do with it? You haven’t had that ball one hour and you’ve already lost it.”
Alec glanced toward Laura for support and found her five seats down the row, bending over to look beneath the seats. His gaze lingered on her round bottom, then darted away as she straightened.
“Found it!” She held the autographed baseball aloft. “How about I put it in my purse until we get to the car?”
Jason beamed. “Thanks, Laura.”
“Stay close,” Alec warned, prodding them both into the jostling boisterous stream of fans attempting to leave the stadium. He saw Laura grab Jason’s hand and experienced a fierce surge of protectiveness.
Shouldering his way forward, he reached down and captured Laura’s palm. She seemed startled, then relieved.
“Keep holding Jason,” he commanded. She nodded once and threaded her slender fingers through his.
Alec took the lead, using his bulk to forge an opening through the crowd, trusting Laura to tow Jason in her wake. Her hand felt good and right in his—just as the knowledge she held Jason’s hand felt good and right.
They reached the ramp and headed down the steep slope, forming a human chain as the crowd opened up. Jason giggled at their gravity-induced walk.
Once on even ground, Alec released Laura’s hand. Ignoring an odd sense of loss, he stopped and got his bearings. He’d parked the car a good quarter mile away. Jason would never make it on his own by the looks of his drooping eyelids.
Reaching down, Alec hoisted the delighted child onto his shoulders, grabbed Jason’s shins and set a quick pace for Laura to follow across the lot.
Long ago, watching other children ride on their father’s shoulders, Alec had fought pangs of envy. Judging from the way his son squealed, it must be as much fun as he’d always imagined.
Moments later he slid Jason down to stand beside the sleek Lexus. As Alec dug into his pocket for the keys, Laura moved up and smoothed Jason’s hair. The boy turned and buried his face in her stomach. She stroked his back in lazy circles. Lucky kid.
Alec unlocked the doors and motioned for the two to get in. His son fell asleep in the back seat before they’d left the parking lot. He and Laura talked about the game for several minutes, then lapsed into an easy silence that lasted all the way home. Pulling into his driveway, he cut the engine, acutely aware of the enclosed intimacy of man, woman and sleeping child.
The kind of intimacy a family shared.
A delicate trace of lavender teased his nostrils. He turned and studied Laura’s pensive expression in the dim light filtering from the lamps on his porch.
“What are you thinking about?”
“I was remembering the first time I sat in this driveway with you. You’d just issued an impossible challenge, and I was scared to death.”
“Could’ve fooled me. In fact, I remember thinking you were the most brazen woman I’d ever met.”
“The story of my life. Just once I’d like to meet a man who...”
Her blush intrigued him. Suddenly it was very important she finish. “A man who what?”
She shrugged. “Who thought I was nice or fun or...or even just pretty.” This last came out as a whisper.
He stared at the arresting features that made other women seem bland by comparison. Where was her brazen confidence now? “You are nice. And fun. But you’re far from pretty.”
Her lashes swept down.
He reached out and cupped h
er stubborn elegant jaw. “You’re a knockout, Laura. A definite ten.”
Their gazes held. The moment stretched. He’d only meant to soothe her wounded pride. Not fill her eyes with wonder and...something else. A need that quickened his heartbeat. An emotion he dared not acknowledge for fear of having to reject it.
“I’m the first man to tell you that, aren’t I?” Even before she nodded, he knew it was true. A part of him ached for her, but an overwhelmingly larger part rejoiced in the blindness of his gender. Another possibility struck him hard.
“My God,” he breathed, absently rubbing his thumb against her jaw. “You’ve never been with a man, have you?”
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t confirm his statement. He released her chin as if burned.
“I’m twenty-six, Alec, what did you expect?”
Alec stiffened, feeling ridiculous. “You don’t owe me an explanation. I shouldn’t have said—”
“Michael had a band,” she interrupted, her eyes sending a message he couldn’t decipher. “You know, the kind that plays fraternity parties and local clubs? He’d advertised for a female singer, and I was sick of waiting tables, so I tried out. Michael...I don’t know, dazzled me.”
Alec grimly absorbed that little tidbit. “Apparently the feeling was mutual.”
“No, I wasn’t his type at all. We were just good buddies.”
“C’mon, Laura. The guy had the hots for you, admit it.”
She shook her head. “I told you, we were just good—”
“Buddies. Right. Buddies play poker and swap fishing stories. They do not, in my experience, sleep together.”
She turned swiftly toward the windshield, her eyes glazed, her throat working spasmodically. Her distress was very real and painful to watch, and far greater than his comment warranted.
“You want to talk about it, Laura?”
She cast him a horrified glance, then gave him her profile again—but not before he’d seen the glimmer of unshed tears. His dislike of the dazzling Michael turned primitive and ugly.
