Elizabeth's Choice

by Lyle, Linda;

  Elizabeth’s Choice

  Linda Lyle

  Copyright

  © 1998 by Barbour Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the permission of the publisher, Truly Yours, PO Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683.

  All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.

  one

  Elizabeth pushed back a stray hair as she worked on the computer. Engrossed in her research, she didn’t hear Alex McClintock come up behind her, and she jumped at the sound of his voice.

  “Morning, Elizabeth.”

  “Good morning, Mr. McClintock.” She tried to look businesslike, but her hands trembled on the keyboard. She kept her eyes glued to the screen.

  “Just call me Alex.”

  “Yes, sir. What can I do for you?”

  “Stop calling me sir.”

  “Oh…I’m sorry…Alex.”

  “That’s better. I need some research done for the Brennan case.” He handed her the file, complete with a list of detailed instructions.

  “Yes, sir. I mean, Alex.”

  “Leave it on my desk when you’re through.” He put the file on top of the stack she was working on, hesitating before giving it a final tap. Elizabeth looked up.

  “Anything else?” she asked.

  “No. That’s it. I’ll let you get back to work.” In two quick strides he was out of her office.

  Elizabeth watched the tall figure move down the hall. Realizing she was staring, she turned back to her work, her face flushed. What was she thinking? There was no way Alex McClintock was going to give her a moment’s notice. She might as well get it out of her head right now. She pushed away from the desk with a groan. He wasn’t her type anyway. Why did she care what he thought? He was a playboy, a flirt. He wasn’t serious about settling down. Pushing the files away in frustration, she put her elbows on the desk and rested her chin in her hands.

  More than anything, she wanted to get out of this rat race. What if she married Alex? She could picture the two of them living in a Victorian house with two children and a dog. Once, she had mentioned her ideal to a co-worker, only to be scolded for being so old-fashioned. Old-fashioned or not, one day she wanted to quit work and raise a family.

  The shrill ring of the telephone brought her out of her reverie. With a sigh, she picked up the phone and went back to work. A couple of hours later, she gathered the last of the information for the Brennan file and headed for Alex’s office, her heart rate increasing as she neared his office. Scolding herself, she took a deep breath and knocked on the open door.

  “I have the Brennan file ready.”

  “Great.” He flipped through the folder and nodded in approval. “Thanks for getting it done so quickly. I have a dinner meeting with Mr. Brennan tonight.” She turned to leave, but he motioned for her to wait. “What are you doing for lunch?”

  “Lunch?”

  “Yes, you know, that thing people do around noon?”

  “I know what lunch means, but…”

  “Good, then I’ll pick you up in an hour.” Without another word he returned to his work. Elizabeth walked out of the office and turned the wrong way in the hallway. She caught herself just before she entered the men’s room and with red cheeks made her way back to her office. Sinking into her chair, she wondered if she had heard right. Had Alex really asked her out to lunch?

  Looking at her reflection in the computer screen, she wondered what would possess him to do such a thing. He had it all: charm, good looks, money. She was known as the poor ice maiden who couldn’t get a date. She had never been one for casual dating, but her conservative upbringing tended to send guys running in the opposite direction. Once, she had even overheard the guys in the office betting on who could thaw the “ice princess.” She had spent her break crying in the ladies’ room. From then on she had vowed to be very cautious about whom she dated. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why she had agreed to go out with Alex. Yes you do, a little voice whispered. Ever since she had begun working at the offices of McClintock & McClintock, she had found herself fascinated by the senior partner and eldest son of Matthew McClintock. Every time she got around him, her throat constricted and her mind refused to work. With his dark good looks, he could have been a model, but with the added assets of intelligence and charm, he made a formidable lawyer. He was the kind of man women fantasized about, Elizabeth included. She would have to watch her step this time, because she knew it wouldn’t take much to fall prey to his charms. She sighed and tried to shake off the image of her and Alex dancing in the moonlight and got her mind back on the job at hand.

  At five minutes before noon, Alex breezed into her office. “Ready to go.” It was more a statement than a question.

  “Just let me save this information on a file.”

  “No rush.” He smiled that easy smile, and she had doubts about what she was doing. He had a reputation with the ladies. She was way out of her league, but curiosity got the better of her.

  “I’ll get my jacket.”

  “Here, let me do that.” As he helped her into her jacket, his hand rested on her shoulder for a second longer than necessary, and when they moved toward the door, Elizabeth released a breath. The man never failed to make her nervous.

  He escorted her out of the building and into his Mercedes, passing several obviously surprised co-workers. As they passed Inner Harbor, she realized they were headed for Little Italy. Elizabeth watched the flurry of activity as boats of all descriptions dotted the waterway. It was her favorite place to visit. A smile played at the corners of her mouth as she remembered walks along the harbor with her roommates and eating crabcakes at the harborside cafes.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “Oh, I was just thinking how much I love living here in Baltimore.” There was little else said on the ride to the restaurant. Maybe he was as nervous as she was, but somehow she doubted that Alex was ever nervous. A quick glance at his profile confirmed her suspicions. He was as cool as ever.

  They arrived and were ushered immediately to the best table in the house. Elizabeth noticed that the waiters treated him with a familiar deference. This obviously wasn’t his first time here. She picked up the linen napkin and placed it in her lap, toying with the ends.

  “What would you like?” The waiter stood patiently while she studied the menu—all the Italian names were confusing. She glanced down at her blouse in dismay. She had a tendency to spill when she was nervous, and today she was wearing a white silk blouse that was sure to stain. Unable to make a clear decision she suddenly remembered a piece of advice her mother had given when she had first started dating: when in doubt, let the man order. So, she gave him a lopsided smile and said, “I’m not sure. What do you suggest?”

  After Alex ordered for both of them, the waiter nodded and disappeared. That was the mark of a good restaurant, silent service. She was surprised to find that Alex actually seemed interested in her. He asked her questions about her views on the recent election. He looked directly into her eyes and seemed to hang on her every word, despite the fact that she knew little about the election. His obvious interest made her nervous. She focused on the spot directly above his tie, but not quite into his eyes. He reached out and lifted her chin.

  “I can’t see those beautiful brown eyes when you keep looking at my tie.”

  “I’m…sorry,” she stuttered. When the food came, she had a moment of panic. What if she spilled the sauce on her new white blouse?

&nbs
p; “I hope you like manicotti. It’s safer than spaghetti,” he sid as if reading her mind and pointing to his crisp white shirt. “I can’t go to a meeting with tomato sauce on my shirt. I keep an extra white shirt and tie in my car for emergencies.”

  He smiled and she relaxed. He was good company. They talked about books, music, the theatre, and found they had several things in common. Before she knew it, she had agreed to go to a dinner party with him on Saturday night. When they returned to the office, Elizabeth had a sparkle in her eye and no desire to work. She found her mind replaying lunch over and over again. She looked forward to Saturday night like Cinderella anticipating the ball. The lull soon passed and she found little time for daydreaming.

  The week flew by in a flurry of business meetings, last-minute research, and a ton of paperwork. It was Saturday morning before Elizabeth even had time to look for something to wear to the dinner party. She chided herself over and over for not thinking about it earlier in the week. But, then again, she really hadn’t had time to think about it. If she had, she probably would have canceled the date. A search through her wardrobe found it sadly inadequate for the occasion. She tried on a blue satin dress that looked like it belonged on a bridesmaid. Then she pulled out a suit dress with a long skirt, but it looked too professional.

  She finally decided on a simple, black velvet dress which covered her from neck to toe with a slit up the front to allow for walking. She fussed with her straight hair, but when the doorbell rang twenty minutes later her hair looked the same.

  She looked through the peephole. Even from this view, Alex was breathtaking in a black tuxedo. She opened the door, and he looked even better from this distance. She realized she must have been staring when he said, “Are you going to let me in or were you expecting someone else?”

  “Oh! I’m sorry. Come in.” She moved back to let him in and mentally kicked herself for being so obvious. She had wanted to appear sophisticated, and now she felt awkward, like a teenager on her first date. “I’ll just get my coat and I’ll be ready.” She tried to walk gracefully across the room, but stumbled on the edge of the rug. She was sure he had to have seen her, but he appeared completely absorbed by the pictures on the wall.

  “No rush. We’ll be fashionably late.” He smiled and she tried to steady her lips into a returning one. She may live to regret this night.

  They arrived as predicted, fashionably late. It seemed everyone arrived ten minutes after the time stated on the invitation. A butler took their invitation and coats, and then they were ushered into the largest room Elizabeth had ever seen in a home. Alex barely had time to make any introductions before dinner was called. She found herself between Alex and a balding man in his forties.

  Elizabeth looked around as the appetizer was served. “It’s the fork on the end dear,” her dinner partner whispered, but Elizabeth didn’t miss the patronizing smirk.

  “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.”

  Elizabeth toyed with her napkin and glanced at the grandfather clock. Only seven. She’d never make it. But make it she did through three courses of boring conversation served with a side of sarcasm. She managed not to catapult the crab legs across the room as she cracked them open or spill butter sauce on her dress. And just when she brought the last bite of chocolate mousse to her mouth, the man next to her jostled her and sent the morsel flying into a crystal vase filled with Birds of Paradise. She couldn’t have hit it if she had tried. Glancing around, she breathed a sigh of relief. Everyone was too absorbed in conversation to notice. It was at that moment that their host chose to make an announcement.

  “Let’s have coffee and brandy in the music room.” She had never actually believed that people had a room just for music.

  “Brandy, Miss?”

  “No, thank you.” She didn’t drink, another reason to dislike these parties.

  “A soda or mineral water, perhaps.” Elizabeth considered ginger ale, but she didn’t want people to think she was drinking. She felt conspicuous with her hands empty, but she refused the offer and looked around for Alex. She wouldn’t feel so much like an intruder if she were with him. She spotted him across the room, talking with a judge and a senator.

  “I say, Senator, what do you think of the election? Think it will change anything in the White House?”

  “Interesting question, but what intrigues me is…”

  Elizabeth’s attention moved to the two men standing beside her, arguing over who would make the final four. The group of women behind her in their designer originals were discussing the merits of a certain caterer. She stood in the sea of colors and sounds looking for somewhere to melt into the background. Finally, she noticed French doors on her right and slipped into the relative quiet of the garden.

  Alex found her there an hour later. “So this is where you disappeared to. I was beginning to think someone had kidnapped you.”

  “At this point, I’d pay someone to kidnap me.”

  “It’s not that bad now, is it?” He smiled that smile.

  “I guess not.”

  “You guess not. Come on. It’s business, a necessary evil. I’d much rather be alone with you.” He moved closer and took her hand.

  “Then let’s go. All this buzzing is giving me a headache.”

  “What buzzing?”

  “All this noise. Everybody talking and no one saying anything. It sounds like static on the radio when you’re getting two stations at one time.” Her voice faded away as she realized how foolish she sounded.

  He laughed sending shivers up her spine. “Are you cold?”

  “A little,” she said.

  “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

  He said very little on the way home, but he kept possession of her hand even after they were in the car, letting go only long enough to get in and get the car moving. When they pulled up in front of her small townhouse, she made a move to get out, but he pulled her back.

  “It’s early. Let’s go in and talk for a little while.”

  She hesitated. “I…I…” Something in the back of her mind said no, but he left little room for argument. He came around and opened the car door and then asked for her keys to unlock the apartment door. She barely had time to think of a proper response before he was already in the apartment.

  “Let’s listen to some quiet music and sit and talk.”

  “Help yourself.” She motioned toward a boom box next to the TV and a portable cassette case holder and a small selection of CDs. He chose some quiet blues and then drew her onto the couch. He smiled and put his arm around her, her head on his shoulder.

  “That’s better.” He ran his fingers through her hair and she shivered again. “Are you cold?” Before she could answer, he wrapped his arms around her, and she could feel the heat from his body through her dress. She felt uncomfortable and flushed, but another part of her was curious. She had never done this sort of thing before, mainly because she never went out very much.

  “Your hair is so soft, I could get lost in it.” He buried his face in the dark tresses and then placed a soft kiss on her neck. She could smell the scent of alcohol on his breath. Then suddenly, he was kissing her lips and her lips parted. She pulled away. It was happening all over again.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I’m just not ready for this.”

  “Come on, sweetheart. Just relax.”

  “I just think we’re moving a little fast. I really don’t know you that well.”

  “Well, let’s get to know each other.” He pulled her back into his arms and his hands began to move. She grabbed his hands and pushed him away.

  “I said no. Now stop.”

  “What’s wrong with you. We were just having a little fun.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “It didn’t seem that way to me. You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

  She blushed, but stood her ground. “Look. I’m not interested. Maybe you should find someone more your type.”

  “Maybe I
should.”

  He grabbed his coat on his way out the door. When she heard his car start up and speed away, she released a breath. Bolting the door, she began to get ready for bed, but his words haunted her. The Bible on her nightstand seemed to accuse her, and instant replays of her behavior brought a flush of shame to her cheeks. She tried to put it out of her mind, but memories of the way he had held her hand and the feel of his arms around her filled her thoughts. A wave of longing for someone to hold her brought wracking sobs from within. The loneliness she had felt since her parents’ deaths wrapped its cold arms around her, and she shivered in the dark.

  When would it be her turn? She had watched all her friends date and marry and move away. Why was it that she was left alone? Just when she thought her prince had come along, he had turned into a frog. Even the absurd image of Alex as a frog couldn’t dispel the shadows. In the dark, she raised her pleas to heaven, but there was silence. She snuggled deeper into the covers and turned to her imagination for comfort. For in her dreams, Alex returned and begged for her forgiveness, saying he was so overcome by his love for her that he was unable to control himself. But the cold light of morning broke the spell and Elizabeth knew that Alex was just like the others.

  two

  Alex’s anger was boiling underneath the surface. He appeared the essence of calm—he always managed to keep his temper buried. His motto was “Don’t get mad, get even,” and he always did. He walked to his car and closed the door with care. He drove the usual speed home, but part of him wanted to speed or curse the other drivers, do something to release his frustration. But instead he continued to drive and plan. He would make her pay somehow. She wanted to play ice maiden, but he would thaw her out. He always got what he wanted, and right now he wanted her, at least for a little while. He hadn’t had a good challenge in a long time. With the decision made, he relaxed and began to enjoy the drive.

  His mind wandered back to Monday morning. He had been in Jacobson’s office when Elizabeth brought in some files. Her smile had faltered when she sensed his presence. Her reputation as an ice princess intrigued him, especially since his very presence seemed to intimidate her. He liked that. At lunch, she had let him take care of everything and had refused to even look him in the eye. He had figured that it would not be too hard to bring her around to his way of thinking, but he hadn’t counted on her strong sense of morality. He had thought it was a cover for her fear of men. Well, now he would just have to change his plan of attack.