WHEN A MAN LOVES A WOMAN

by Bonnie K. Winn

  His face emerged from the shadow into the stark relief of the light pouring in from the glass ceiling. His face was closed, strained, and Barbara felt an odd surge of empathy for him, even though she didn't know why. It was as though a cloud had lifted and she saw another side of him, one that was hiding a pain of some sort.

  "Gerrard?" She hated the hesitation she heard in her voice, but she couldn't still the cauldron of emotion that roiled within. Part of her wanted to reach out and comfort him… A bigger, more treacherous part of her wanted even more.

  "I knew you'd find me."

  Such a simple statement, yet it spoke more strongly than she was ready for. Still, she lifted her head and replied recklessly, "You've come to read my mind very well, Gerrard."

  "You're a worthy opponent, Counselor." He stepped closer, then raised a hand to sift it through her hair.

  Shivers raced through her body at the simple touch. She suspected she'd turn to putty if he put all of his charm into play. Forcing a shaky laugh, she stepped back, putting some distance between them. "What do you have planned next, Gerrard? Did you rent out an entire restaurant? Or arrange to have all the roses in the flower shop delivered to our table?"

  "What if it's nothing so grand?" Despite the increased space between them, she could feel the heat from his body, see the danger in his eyes. "What if I'm someone far simpler?"

  "Somehow I doubt that, Gerrard." She hadn't meant to speak the words out loud. Recovering her equilibrium, she smiled at him. "But a simple ending to a complex day sounds like just what I need."

  "I hoped you'd say that." However, his hold wasn't casual as he looped one arm around her shoulders. Guiding her along the mall's corridors, they walked toward the parking lot.

  "We aren't staying here?" she asked in surprise.

  "No, I wanted to know if you'd follow through."

  It was an ambiguous statement, one she wanted to question, but they were at the door of his car. In moments, he'd pulled away from the parking lot and the downtown area. In a short time the car was climbing upward, gaining altitude quickly. It was one of the benefits of living near mountains and canyons. They were easily accessible.

  She wondered which restaurant he would choose. The canyon boasted several fine restaurants with magnificent views, but he passed them by. Then he turned into a public area, deserted now in the latter part of the day. After opening the door for her, he reached in the back seat and pulled out a plain-looking picnic basket and a sturdy blanket.

  "You game?"

  "Always, Gerrard."

  He gripped the basket more firmly, then unclenched his tight grip before walking with her to a spot that overlooked the valley. Sunset would be approaching soon and he couldn't have chosen a better place for them to view it.

  As he opened the basket, she half expected sparklers to ignite. Instead, he pulled out some rather unremarkable looking sandwiches, and a bottle of zinfandel.

  "No champagne, Gerrard?"

  "I don't want to spoil you. Or give you a bad case of sensory overload."

  She pointed to the sweeping panorama below. "What about this?"

  "I can't get enough of the scenery. You people are spoiled by having it right underfoot. Most of us have to drive for miles to see anything that matches this." He handed her a sandwich and a salad.

  She unwrapped the plastic, took a bite of the sandwich and immediately reassessed her opinion. It wasn't anything ordinary at all. After tasting delicately sliced smoked turkey adorned with capers, chilies, tomatoes and provolone, she knew that to call it a sandwich was an understatement. She watched as Kenneth uncorked the wine and poured them each a glass. The supper was simple, classy and again unexpected.

  Though she'd never admit it to him, Kenneth Gerrard was one surprise after another.

  He was quieter than he'd been since they'd met. He still had that faint reckoning look about him, making it difficult to eat despite the delicious food. Able only to finish half the sandwich, she rewrapped it in plastic, then picked up her wineglass.

  "I thought you weren't a nibbler," he commented in a quiet voice.

  "I'm full on adventure," she replied. "This has been quite a day for me."

  "Me, too."

  "You mean you don't usually wine and dine women on this grand scale?"

  A ghost of his grin emerged. "You don't really expect me to divulge all my trade secrets, do you?"

  Perhaps not. It might take away the magic. Startled by the thought, she leaned her face against the bracket her arms formed against her knees. "Said like a man who plays the game frequently."

  A line furrowed in his forehead. "You see it as a game?"

  "Having me chase a trail of clues all day is considered normal behavior?"

  He laughed, a deep rumbling sound that was at odds with his contemplative mood. "And I thought you liked a challenge."

  "I do!" she protested. Then realizing how ridiculous she sounded, she held out her wineglass for a refill.

  Instead of filling her glass, he leaned closer, catching her off guard. His lips drifted over hers, a lazy invitation to linger. To discover.

  The hand holding the glass wavered in mild protest, then she let it fall unchecked to the blanket. It seemed equally natural to lean into his hold, to fit her body to his.

  The muscles she'd admired before now gripped her with a strength that took her breath away, yet his hands were gentle as one cupped the back of her head, bringing her close. It was as though she felt quiet desperation in his touch. And a familiarity. The thought wove its way into her consciousness. It floated, nudged, then evaporated as he claimed her mouth.

  His lips teased hers, then slid across her cheek to linger near the sensitive flesh of her neck. "Barbara," he breathed, with such emotion, she felt an immediate bone-melting response.

  He might be leading her on, but she sensed nothing but sincerity. An almost frightening sincerity.

  She felt as though she were rushing pell-mell down a river that was destined to spill over a giant waterfall. Then his lips claimed hers again and she welcomed his touch. Around them, sunset claimed the sky, sending a profusion of color nearly as great as the one exploding in her brain. The growing dusk offered solitude, as well.

  Kenneth leaned her back against the blanket and Barbara felt the rough, scratchy wool, the tickle of grass against her bare legs and then his hands. Reverently they explored the line of her neck, then dipped to run over her rib cage. It wasn't an eager, brash exploration. If it had been, she could have stopped him at any time. Instead, his hands seemed intent on a journey, one that seemed predestined.

  Gasping, Barbara reached up to grasp the back of his head as he lowered his mouth to her breast. It was as though her shirt and flimsy bra didn't exist. Arching off the ground toward him, she felt again that she was rushing headlong in a vehicle that traveled too fast, without benefit of steering or brakes.

  In tune as he was to her thoughts, he lifted his head and placed a tender kiss on her lips. "We are in a public place, much to my regret, Barbara."

  Shakily she gazed into his eyes, struck for a fleeting moment by a resemblance … something…

  But he was holding out a hand to her. "It'll get cold soon, now that the sun's gone down."

  Feeling at once relieved and bereft, she watched him pack up their picnic basket and blanket. Then they were in his car, speeding down the canyon and back toward town. He pulled into the parking lot behind her car, then walked her to the door.

  "Last stop," he said softly, leaning forward to steal another kiss.

  Her mind clouded as she sighed her acceptance and felt his lips dragging her to some deeper place where need was sharper, where want ruled the universe. His kiss was all contradictions – tender one moment, demanding the next. And she held on for the ride, letting him take her away from the impersonal place they stood, from the people they were, to a grinding passion that beat a relentless tattoo.

  When he finally released her, it took a moment to readjust to reality,
to remember that she stood next to her car in a parking lot. That people could walk by at any moment, and, in all likelihood, probably had.

  He opened the door for her and she slid inside, not sure her legs would continue to support her. The door shut softly and he walked away. Vaguely she heard his engine rev as he waited for her to pull out. Her motions automatic, she started the car, reversed and headed out of the parking lot, seeing him disappear in the opposite direction.

  She drove several blocks as though on automatic pilot, stopping for traffic lights, making the proper turns. Then it hit her. The briefcase! She'd forgotten all about it. Wrapped up in a kiss that rocked her very foundations, she'd let him slip away. The light from a neon sign shone through the window and Barbara glanced at the seat beside her. Her briefcase!

  Reaching out to touch the leather portfolio and ensure that it was real, she found a ridiculous smile curling her lips. He'd said be would return the case if she followed his trail of clues, and he'd been true to his word. On impulse, she pulled into a convenience store parking lot.

  Barbara reached over and picked up the briefcase, checking the locks. They remained firmly closed. Of course, she still couldn't remember if she'd locked the case. Kenneth could have examined everything and then locked her portfolio so that it looked untouched. Yet somehow she doubted he would stoop so low. She doubted he needed to.

  Running her fingers over the smooth leather, she paused as she connected with something taped to the top. Carefully pulling the tape from the surface, she held the pieces of paper up to the light. Front and center tickets to the hottest show in town. A ribbon was tied around the pair of tickets along with a note in Kenneth's handwriting. "A generous victor shares her spoils."

  It was a clever way to insinuate himself into her company again the next evening. And she couldn't quash the grin that lit her face. Still … it didn't seem right to give him an easy answer, even though she had enjoyed her excursion on his version of the Orient Express. Perhaps he should have a trail – or trial of fire – of his own to conquer first.

  * * *

  Kenneth shut the hotel door behind him and sank into the club chair facing the window. He should he exhilarated. Instead he shoved one hand through his hair, disturbing the immaculate styling. Staring out the balcony, he watched the twinkle of lights that covered the valley. The towering mountains and the carpet of light somehow seemed comforting. But he was beyond comforting.

  He'd started this whole thing with one intent and now it was careering out of control. He remembered the day he'd sat in his San Francisco office and opened the conflict-of-interest folder detailing prospective cases his firm intended to take on. Barbara's name on the briefs had leapt out at him. He had done everything in his power to make the case his own. He'd succeeded.

  And still she didn't suspect.

  Too impatient to sit, Kenneth rose and paced the generous confines of the room. The hotel was like many others he'd stayed in over the years. Places meant little to him, attachments even less. Then he thought of Barbara's face, silhouetted in the diminishing evening light, her reaction to their kiss. His own reaction.

  Like a fire that had lain dormant only to be flamed to life, they'd crossed some invisible boundary. Knowing that initially he wanted only to see Barbara to gauge what kind of life she now led, if that life made her happy, he realized his plan had now been derailed. And he didn't believe she was happy. Not in the fullest sense of the word.

  Not that he discounted the value of her career, but he knew her career was her life. Not a complement to a well-rounded existence that included adventure, companionship … love.

  Her life seemed far too sterile for that. Stiff was how she'd initially appeared. Confident, yes. But there didn't seem to be any room in her life for fun. And there didn't seem to be many times when she let down those safeguards. He suspected she hadn't lowered them in far too long.

  Was this the result of something in her past? If so, how far back?

  He thought of her guarded conversations, her reluctance to venture out of her well-ordered existence. She was an expert at revealing very little. But then, he'd majored in that himself. Standing at the window, he gazed over the million-dollar view, damning his choices and at the same time wondering if there had been any other road to take.

  And also wondering if he could keep his own heart intact as he gave hers back.

  * * *

  Chapter 6

  «^»

  Barbara strolled into the courthouse, a kicky air in her steps. Determined to remain cool, she purposely didn't search for Kenneth. Instead, she waved to acquaintances and fellow attorneys as she moved through the hall. But everyone she waved to responded with unexpected reactions – from amazed to knowing – along with a healthy portion of winks and nods.

  Shaking her head, she decided the long weekend must have had quite an effect on everyone. She navigated through the crowds and approached the courtroom her case was being tried in. Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself and opened the door.

  But nothing could prepare her for what was inside. Flowers blanketed her entire table, and the overflow of vases marched in a line around the table, as well.

  Gasping, she stared at the profusion of roses, violets, daisies, peonies, asters and carnations. What in the world…?

  Her gaze went from the flowers to the judge's bench. Perhaps he wasn't in yet. But that hope died as she met Judge Herbert's mottled face. And she could well guess the source of that anger. Apparently, after he'd found out about the flowers, he hadn't waited until the official start of proceedings to enter, instead lying in wait for her arrival.

  "Miss Callister, I would think that an attorney of your experience would know that it is totally inappropriate to have … to have—" he spluttered, then firmed his glasses "—to have gifts of a personal nature delivered to a courtroom. In the future I suggest that you instruct your young man to use discretion and good sense. And if he doesn't have an appropriate measure of each, I expect you to inform him that such displays will cease immediately."

  "But, Your Honor—"

  "That will be all, Miss Callister."

  "If I could approach the bench—"

  Judge Herbert glared at her. "No, you may not approach. However, you will dispose of these flowers. Your indiscretion will force me to call a thirty-minute recess while the court is cleared."

  "Sir—"

  "See to it, Miss Callister." Standing up in disgust, the judge huffed his way toward his chambers.

  Whirling around, Barbara caught Kenneth's smirk and saw that he was containing his laughter with a supreme effort. Dani skidded through the open doorway at that moment, her mouth agape as she took in the sight.

  Barbara considered murder.

  Then decided there were too many witnesses.

  When she got even, it wouldn't be easily traced.

  "Barbara!" Dani whispered excitedly as she reached her side. Glancing up, over and around the table she whistled. "You must have been a very good girl."

  "Shut up and help me move these flowers out of here. We have thirty minutes to clear the courtroom or I imagine Horrible Herbert will slap me with contempt."

  Dani's eyebrows rose at Barbara's unexpected use of Judge Herbert's unofficial nickname, but she grabbed a vase.

  "Could you ladies use some help?" Kenneth asked, tongue-in-cheek as he strolled up to them.

  "I wondered what your next move would be, Gerrard. I didn't expect you to be quite so obvious about your sabotage." Having decided he didn't need to, and wouldn't, stoop to such measures, it was particularly hurtful to discover that he had.

  "You wound me, Counselor. And you've sadly misread my motives."

  "Gerrard—" she began in a voice that could be heard several rows back.

  Dani punched her firmly with her elbow. "Not now, Barb. You two can take this outside later."

  "Like this evening?" Kenneth suggested.

  Exasperated, Barbara stared at him. "You really expect me to t
ake you to the show tonight? I don't care if you did give me the tickets. Not after you … you…"

  "What, Barbara? Sent you a room full of flowers?" He exchanged a sympathetic glance with Dani. "Hardly qualifies as a crime."

  When Dani nodded in agreement, Barbara narrowed her glare and directed it at her friend.

  Dani ducked her head and began gathering vases. Blossoms draped over both arms as she tried to listen while pretending to ignore the heated conversation.

  "Besmirching my reputation with Judge Herbert is dirty pool, Gerrard. Granted I should have had the sense not to spend time with you outside the courtroom, but this…"

  "Besmirch? Nobody talks like that anymore." He slanted his glance at Dani. "Do they?"

  She started to nod her agreement, caught the fire in Barbara's eyes and opted to try and balance another vase in her arms.

  "Call it what you want, Gerrard. I expected you to use your legal expertise in trying to win this case, not juvenile tricks."

  "But this wasn't a legal maneuver, Barbara. It was strictly personal. I considered having the flowers delivered to your apartment, but you're never there. Since you live and breathe your work…" He let the words trail off.

  Barbara felt that ridiculous thumping again. If she hadn't been forced to face Judge Herbert's wrath, she might have been knocked over by the gesture.

  Strictly personal.

  The words were singing their own syncopated beat in her mind.

  Kenneth's smile lifted his lips. "Hey, if the judge knew what a gem you are, he'd never have gotten so upset."

  Her pleasure dimmed as her eyes narrowed, thinking of other horrifying possibilities that would embarrass her in the courtroom. "What other tricks have you got up your sleeve?"

  "Don't you trust me?" he asked, evoking Dani's aid with another beseeching look.

  But Barbara cut off any reply Dani might have had. "Sure, Gerrard. Any more trust and I'll find myself the sole owner of the only swampland in the Grand Canyon."