A Lasting Love

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by Mary Tate Engels




  A Lasting Love

  By Mary Tate Engels

  Published by Mary Tate Engels at Smashwords, all rights reserved.

  Copyright 2010, Mary Tate Engels

  Cover by www.digitaldonna.com

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment. It may not be re-sold or given away.

  "You are definitely worth the risk, Loren," he murmured against her ear. The velvety softness of his breath sent chills down her spine, and she longed to sink closer to him, to press against his hard chest. Of course, she did not. After all, they barely knew each other. Perhaps tonight would be a time to remedy that.

  "I've never met a man so bold." Or one who made me feel this way.

  "I'm captivated by you, Loren Randolph. I've never seen eyes quite the color of yours. They're enchanting . . . and so are you." His voice was a hoarse whisper and wrapped around her as securely as his arms.

  "You're a silver tongued devil." She laughed.

  "Who's intrigued with you, Loren."

  "A secret admirer?"

  He nuzzled her ear ever so faintly. "You'll find that I don't work in secret. Nor do I admire in secret. I want you to know exactly where I stand."

  "I... I think I do, Reid." His name felt strange on her tongue, even though she felt so familiar in his arms. So right. "Reid . . ." she repeated it again, just to hear the sound.

  Prologue

  He was following her again. She glanced stealthily over her shoulder and there he was. His dark head was bent, conspicuously angled toward a newspaper, as if he were reading. But she knew he wasn 't reading it. She faced the front of the subway car and felt his penetrating eyes on her. A chilling shiver ran down her spine and the bitter taste of fear rose in her throat.

  Loren closed her eyes, trying to forget him, to relax. But who could forget him? And who could relax on the subway? She waggled loosely, like a disjointed doll, with the constant vibrations of the car against the rails, reminding herself this was the smoothest subway ride in the country. Or so they said. New, modern, sleek, efficient, convenient ... nothing but the best transit system for the capital city.

  Foggy Bottom . . . Arlington . . . National Airport. . ..

  Loren's blue eyes flashed open. She gripped her briefcase with one hand and a seat arm with the other, bracing herself for the most exciting and beautiful city in the United States—Washington, D.C. Her city. Its pulse, its vibrance, its importance, thrilled her daily, making her ever grateful that she had grown up here. She was lucky enough to go to George Washington University, get a job on The Hill, and learn the ropes from the man who had known every knot and was responsible for looping many of them—her own father.

  Loren merged with the crowd at the stop. Did she catch a glimpse of him exiting? She transferred to the bus for the short ride on George Washington Parkway. She sat nervously in the front seat, instinct impelling her to glance in the rearview mirror. There he was, his head towering above all the others. His appearance was distinctive and intrepid, bordering on handsome. Dark hair fell carelessly across his forehead and stylishly edged his collar at the neck. And those eyes, a deep mahogany color, almost black. And they seemed to drill right through you. Tall, lean, long-legged, he wore his suit clumsily ... as though he would be shedding the coat and tie at any minute and begin to lope through the streets. He definitely did not have the three-piece-suit, tailor-made look of the Washington men she knew. Yet, he walked with a self-assured, broad stride, those long legs devouring his course impatiently. And those awful boots. Cowboy boots, for God's sake, with a suit. Actually they were the only items about him that looked natural.

  The bus shook to a stop. Ah, Alexandria . . . home. Loren loved all the interesting sections of Washington. Georgetown . . . The Mall . . . The Hill ... the Potomac ... but Alexandria was her favorite. Old, quaint, traditional ... a slower pace. She loved it. Would he follow her? What would she do if he did?

  Loren left the bus and heard him exit behind her. She knew the next move was hers. Allowing a few minutes for him to get closer, she whirled around to confront him. It would be wiser to face him now, while others were near and before reaching her town house. She couldn't let him know which tiny entrance was hers.

  But he was gone. Out of sight. She scanned the narrow cobblestone street, but he wasn't visible anywhere. Where could he have gone so quickly?

  Heart pounding, Loren walked rapidly to her brick-edged doorway and inserted the key. At that moment a white Continental sped past, as much as a car could speed on a cobblestone street. She looked up in time to see that he was in the passenger seat, while another man drove. There were two of them. And now they knew where she lived! Oh, dear God, what a fool she had been! In her innocence, her ignorance, she had shown them exactly where to come. Feverishly she unlocked the door and hurried to the phone.

  Oh, damn! She realized with a jab in the pit of her stomach that she hadn't checked the license plate. Mistake number two. With shaky fingers she picked up the phone.

  Loren was assured, in an uninterested monotone that police patrols on Prince Street would increase. Somehow she doubted it.

  Aware that they knew where she lived, Loren spent a sleepless night, waiting in the still, cold hours of the early morning when they were most likely to break in.

  But the anticipation was in vain.

  Chapter One

  Breeze gentle as a poem . . . jewel in the sea . . . eternal pulsing of the ocean . . . oaks of majesty and endurance . . . sand like diamonds. . . love, like dreams. . . once is never enough . . .

  In her imagination, Loren could hear the rushing, roaring thunder of the sea as it crashed on the breakers, feel the warm wind in her hair, see the brilliant glare of sand crystals in the sun, smell the deep sea-green salty water as it sprayed her face. She was bewitched, obviously whisked away from the bitter cold wind off Chesapeake Bay.

  "Day dreaming again, Loren?"

  She jumped, then smiled sheepishly at the office receptionist. "Sorry, Anne. I was just browsing through this booklet that came across the congressman's desk, a resort island off the coast of South Carolina. Isn't it beautiful?"

  Anne craned her head to gaze over Loren's shoulder. "Um-hum. Sure is. You'd think that since we work for South Carolina's congressman, he'd invite us down there sometime."

  "Wouldn't that be nice? Well, perhaps he will. Spring should be gorgeous there." Loren sighed. "But spring is gorgeous here. I want to go somewhere now. I have the winter blahs, I guess. Now, what were you saying before?"

  The sleepless night was taking its toll, and she was extremely tired and slightly irritable.

  Anne handed Loren a slip of paper. "There is just one more appointment. He insisted on seeing you."

  "Why doesn't he just wait until next week and see the congressman if he wants a job?" Loren stole another glance at the travel booklet.

  Anne shrugged. "He said he wanted to show you his credentials first. Probably wants to pave the way by talking to the congressman's aide initially. I told him you'd be glad to see him. Always the eager-to-please office staff of Congressman Neilson."

  Loren smiled wryly and waggled her head. "Oh, sure, sure. Did this man say anything else?"

  "Just expressed an interest in wildlife management." Anne leaned forward and whispered huskily. "He sounded like some wildlife I'd like to manage. His voice was so . . . masculine."

  Loren smiled tightly at Anne's frivolity. Never had a man's voice affected her that way. And she continued. "I'm sure he sounded masculine for good reason. He's probably an unemployed DJ who wants to work in the country's most vibrant city. I'll check him out, Anne."

  "Should I stay and . . . help?" Anne's eyebrows arched teasingly.

  Loren smiled. "If he needs an appointment wit
h the congressman, I'll be glad to schedule him to come in when you're in the office so you can get look at him."

  "Actually, I need to go on home now. Want me to stay since everyone else in the office has already gone."

  "Of course I don't mind. I’m fine. This won't take very long. You run along. Will I see you at the ambassador's dinner later tonight?"

  Anne smiled as she gathered her purse and an armload of notebooks. "Oh, yes. I have an appointment to get my hair done, so I do need to run. Thanks a lot, Loren."

  Loren picked up her travel book and followed Anne to the front office. "I think I'll just wait for Mr., uh,” she looked at the note Anne handed her, “Reid, out here at your desk."

  Anne nodded. "Good idea. And Congressman Steiger's office down the hall is still open, so there are people close by. See you tonight, Loren." By the time the glass door closed, Loren was already enthralled with her island resort book.

  A shuffling noise preceded the rattling of the door and Loren realized her appointment had arrived. Reluctantly she tore her attention from the colorful page before her.

  Broad, masculine shoulders blocked the doorway as dark, brooding eyes canvassed the room, settling on Loren, filling her with instant fear. It was him, the man who followed her home. The man who knew where she lived stood before her now, and she was all alone in the office. Her heart pounded wildly, then seemed to lodge in her throat as she tried to speak.

  It came out hoarsely. "You!"

  "Good observation." His smile was almost pleasant. "And you are twice as lovely up close."

  She raised her knees rubbery, intent on somehow getting past his figure in the doorway. "You followed me. Why?"

  He entered the room, quickly covering the space between them. His boots resounded heavily in the empty room. "You interested me, and I just wanted to know where an aloof, attractive girl who worked on The Hill would live. And I'm impressed."

  "Is the effort worth discussing with the police?" She was bluffing, but she hoped the anger in her voice was a threat.

  "No harm done. I was just curious about you. Before you call the cops, let me introduce myself." He extended his large brown hand. "Reid Mecina. My office is in the Dirksen Building. Don't you remember me?"

  "Should I?" She was hesitant to reach out for that man’s hand. Vaguely a flicker of recognition appeared. She had seen him before... somewhere... even before he followed her. But where?

  "We've met. The first time was a few years ago at a congressional party. The last was just last month when the White House hosted an awards ceremony for the Western Heritage Contribution winners."

  "Oh." Slowly she grasped his still outstretched hand. "You're . . . you're Senator Mecina's son."

  "Right." He grinned, revealing one incongruous dimple wedged in his left cheek. "And you're Senator Jefferson Randolph's daughter, Loren. Jeff and my father were colleagues. We were sorry to hear of his death last year."

  "Thank you." She tugged uncomfortably on her hand, still encased in his. "Perhaps I do remember you." She knew she had attended those functions, but racked her brain to recall this impressive man before her. Surely she wouldn't have dismissed him so casually.

  "I haven't been able to get you out of my mind since we met, and I wanted to know you better."

  She folded her arms defensively across her chest. "After the scare you gave me this week, I'll probably never get you out of my mind either. I don't appreciate your methods, Mr. Mecina. Do you know I called the police about you last night? You really frightened me."

  "I suppose you could say I got your attention, but I'm sorry I scared you." He sat in the chair in front of her desk and balanced a manila folder on his knee. "I followed you once before out of curiosity. And you lost me. The next time I was ready for that. You definitely are a challenge, you know."

  "What do you want?" She still stood before him, glaring down at his seated figure.

  He motioned to her. "Please, sit down, so we can talk."

  In her own office he had the audacity to offer her a seat.

  He continued with a slight smile. "I wanted to talk to you. It's that simple. I wanted to see you, introduce myself, ask you out, without bringing my father's name before the entire office staff."

  She refused to sit. "You might have gotten a better reception if you had mentioned him." She narrowed her blue eyes angrily. He had scared the hell out of her and now expected to apologize and proceed like old friends.

  "As I said, I didn't want my father's name to be bandied about this office. I'm really not looking for a job. I'm in Washington to manage Dad’s office. I was looking specifically for you. No one else. And especially not Congressman Neilson."

  "So you lied. Well, you have my undivided attention. What do you want?"

  "When can we go out? Tonight?"

  "I'm busy tonight. I have a date," she answered boldly.

  "Tomorrow?"

  "No, thank you, Mr. Mecina. I'm busy all weekend." She refused to encourage him. This man was intriguing and masculine, and he did have a very nice voice, as Anne had predicted. But he was not for her. She must have decided this at their earlier meetings, which explained why she'd forgotten him.

  "I heard that you played hard-to-get. That's why I tried to find out as much about you as I could before our little encounter today. Don't forget, I know where you live."

  "Is that a threat?"

  He shrugged and answered with a slight grin. "Just a statement of fact, that's all. You won't get rid of me this easily. Why don't you sit down, Loren. Then we can talk without me craning my neck." He motioned again for her to sit down.

  This time she obliged, perching on the edge of the chair. "I think our conversation is finished."

  "No, it isn't. Are you going to the ambassador's dinner tonight?"

  She flashed her eyes briefly, then controlled her tone. "Maybe."

  "Good. I'll see you there. Meanwhile, read my credentials on my father’s website. Anyone can tell you about me and my family. And I'm sure my father will vouch for me."

  She stiffened. "I'm not interested in your credentials, nor your father's high opinion of you."

  "That's too bad, because I'm very interested in you. And I need someone knowledgeable to escort me around Washington."

  "I'm not in the tour guide business."

  "Let's talk about it tonight."

  "Don't bother trying to find me, Mr. Mecina. There will be approximately four hundred people dining tonight."

  A wicked grin crossed his swarthy face. "But I have experience in tracking you, remember?"

  Her blue eyes flashed. "How could I forget?"

  Confidently he nodded. "I'll find you. It'll give us a chance to talk in the company of others. That's what's bothering you, isn't it?"

  She leaned forward. "You are who's bothering me. Why don't you just leave me alone?"

  He leaned forward too. "Because I'm in love with your blue eyes. They are the most fantastic eyes I've ever seen. Have you ever been to Texas in the spring, Loren, when the bluebonnets are in bloom?"

  She shook her head.

  His large hands spread expressively as he spoke in a low, mesmerizing tone. "Well, the bluebonnets carpet the hills around small towns like Navasota and Brenham with the most magnificent blue blossoms you've ever seen. And your eyes, Loren, remind me of those flowers. They are a vibrant color, with just a touch of violet. Like the bluebonnets. I wish you could see them."

  Loren gulped, not daring to reveal that she could already visualize them from his vivid description. "I thought you were from Arizona."

  "I am. But I've traveled quite a bit. And I swear there's not a prettier sight anywhere than those fields of bluebonnets in April . . . except your eyes."

  She took a deep breath. "Flattery will not sway me, Mr. Mecina."

  "Please, call me Reid. I'd like to show you those bluebonnets this spring, Loren."

  "Don't plan on it." She couldn't seem to dissuade this persistent man.

  "Oh, but I am
. I think you would love it, Loren. This spring. . . don't forget. And tonight. I'll see you tonight, blue eyes." He made a notation in the folder, then closed it and handed it to her. "My dossier. Check me out. You'll find I'm respectable enough."

  Angrily Loren stared after him, even after his square frame had disappeared through the door. He was unnerving, that man. He was not at all the kind of man she was usually attracted to. His hair was too dark and his eyes too penetrating. But, then, no one caught her attention for long. The man was right in observing that she usually played hard-to-get. She was simply too busy to be hindered by the numerous males who pursued her in this town. She wasn't interested in these men who were too soon gone. Of course, no one had intrigued her like this man. This Arizona man, Reid Mecina.

  She hoped fervently that she wouldn't see him tonight. Then he would know that her "date" for the evening was fifty-six-year-old Representative Steiger and two of his office staff. They all lived in Alexandria and generally went together to these dull functions. It gave them someone familiar to chat with.

  Loren packed her briefcase with files she needed to read over the weekend. She would brief Congressman Neilson on Monday. There was always something to prepare for which was what made her job so interesting. She picked up the folder left by that arrogant man. She certainly didn't want to leave it around for someone else to find. Curiously Loren let the folder fall open and glanced down the first page. Her eyes flew over the neatly typed information to the bold scrawling at the bottom of the page.

  ‘Make love in April in a field of bluebonnets with Loren, the girl with the bluebonnet-blue eyes.’

  "Damn!" Loren's mouth dropped open, and she snapped the folder shut and stuffed it into her briefcase. The rude audacity of that man. First, he follows me home and scares the hell out of me. Then he gives a false name to the staff at my office and seeks me out personally. Now he hands me an official dossier where he has noted to make love to me—in a field of flowers in Texas yet. The nerve.

 

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