He handed her the fragile handle of porcelain. "It's the dainty one. The mug's sturdy, still the same ..."
Relief flooded her face, and Loren began to laugh. "Thank goodness. I like that stupid mug. Glad it's still the same."
And she was in his arms, pressing her heart to his fervently. They held each other for a long, long time, clinging to memories that were not quite lost. Neither wanted them to be forgotten. Perhaps, there was still hope. . .
When they finally parted they were serious and pensive. Quietly they prepared breakfast together. Loren set the table and divided the scrambled eggs on small plates decorated with yellow flowers. "What are you doing in Washington, Reid? I don't think I took the time to ask." She smiled impishly, knowing full well why she hadn't taken the time.
Reid cut them both a chunk of cinnamon and brown sugar topped coffeecake, then sat opposite her. "I'm lobbying. You know Arizona's ever-present need for water. There's to be a new bill before Congress this fall. I'm fighting that battle again."
"Interesting.” Loren quickly polished off the eggs. Then, alternating bites of cake and sips of coffee, she commented. “I guess you would be the logical one to lobby for Arizonans."
He shrugged, amazed at her rapidly diminishing food. "I was the natural choice. Because of the years my father and I have spent in Washington, I'm supposed to have contacts here. And, with the ranch, I certainly have a personal interest in the water needs of southern Arizona."
She nodded. "Sounds logical."
"Trouble is, half the connections I had six years ago are retired or have been voted out of office by now. It leaves me scrambling. I don't even know anybody in the Department of the Interior anymore."
Loren cut herself another square of the cake and smiled sagely. "But I do."
"What?"
"Reid, I've lived here all my life. I've seen them come and go. And I know who's in and who’s out. In fact, we are attending a dinner given by the Deputy Chief of the Interior tomorrow night. I could see that you're included. It would give you a chance to meet some influential people at the Interior." She stuffed another bite of cake into her mouth.
"Hey, Loren, that would be great. Would you do that for me?"
She reached across the table to caress his face. "I'd be happy to do anything you need, Reid. You know that. Anyway"—she smiled teasingly—"it wouldn't be a boring evening if you went."
Reid stood and refilled their coffee cups. "You know we could make a pretty good team, Loren. With your connections, maybe I'll get you to work for Arizona's water yet."
"Reid, I'd do anything to help you, and if that means helping Arizona, that's fine too. I'll bet if I put my mind to it, I could come up with several others who might be willing to listen. You'll need all the help you can get when the time comes for voting."
He drank his coffee with renewed interest. "You're fantastic, do you know that, Loren? What have you been doing with yourself these past years? Are you still working on The Hill?"
Doing? she thought acridly. Crying a lot. Her tone was considerably lighter than her thoughts. "Oh, I've been busy. I don't go downtown any more than I have to. I continued as Dick Neilson's aide for another year, then started law school."
"Law school, eh? Get tired of informing old Neilson on everything that was happening in his district and in the world in general?"
She chuckled. "Something like that. After the first year, working and going to school was too much to handle, so I quit and finished law school on some of the money Daddy left in trust. I've been in practice for two years now."
Reid leaned back and inspected her with appraising eyes. "A lawyer now? Loren, you're amazing. But I shouldn't be surprised. You were much too smart to remain behind the scenes. I'll bet you're a terrific lawyer." He was unabashedly enthusiastic at her accomplishments.
Loren basked in his glory, glad for some crazy reason that he approved. "I share a small practice with a friend from law school."
He raised his eyebrows. "Who, Mark?"
She edged the rim of the coffee cup with a finger. "No. Another woman. Althea Montgomery and I share the same interests in the law and a small office in Crystal City." She watched his brow wrinkle at the mention of the location, but he didn't comment on it.
Instead, he asked, "Same interests? What's that?"
She sipped slowly, then set the cup down and exhaled. "We specialize in women's legal problems."
He raised his eyebrows again. "Like?"
She shrugged. "Oh, desertion, physical abuse, child support, divorce, of course. You know, the legal difficulties women encounter in life."
Loren felt the inevitable curtain of hostility between them. It was thin, but unmistakable. Suddenly she and Reid were on opposite sides of the fence simply because they were male and female. However, she always encountered this feeling from men when they discovered what she did. She was accustomed to this reaction. It's just that she expected . . . wanted . . . more understanding from Reid.
His tone was curt. "You mean, the problems that other women have with their men." It was a cold statement.
She met his dark stare with a steady one of her own. "No, it's usually the problems most women encounter when one party or the other decides to end the relationship. Whether it's the man who skips out, leaving her with the responsibilities of their relationship, mainly children, or the woman who's trying to escape an abusive husband, it's the severance that usually causes the problems. And the financial devastation."
His ebony eyes bore into her. "Fighting a personal war, Loren?"
"What's wrong, Reid? Feeling the pinch of a little guilt?" The words just slipped out.
"Hell, no. What severed our relationship six years ago left me with no guilt. Regret, maybe, but no guilt." He was extremely defensive, and Loren knew it was her fault. She hadn't intended to put him in that position. It just happened. Her subconscious was working overtime.
With a calm, quiet voice, in contrast to his outburst, she said, "As a woman, I'm interested in the injustices to other women. Part of the fault may be the woman’s, but most with her man. And society's."
He listened quietly, then: "OK, I'll agree with that. Spreading the blame around makes sense."
She shook her head, unwilling to argue further, but willing to make her stand. "I'm proud that I'm able to help other women. But, I'll admit, Reid, I suppose I do relate to some of my clients." She stood and began clearing the dishes from the table. "I know what it's like to be left."
Reid's angry face drew near to hers. "You also know what it's like to be loved. And I know what it's like to be refused."
She glared. "Is that why you fell so quickly into a marriage? Got your ego damaged? Wanted to prove something?"
"Damn it, Loren! You know that's not the reason."
She turned away from his angry countenance. "Well, I know what it's like to be left with the woman's burden of a relationship."
"You – the woman's burden? What the hell are you talking about?"
She turned back and looked at him coolly. "I was pregnant when you left."
"Pregnant?" The words echoed in his mind, trying to sink in. "You were pregnant with my child and didn't tell me? Why, in God's name, not?"
"At the time you left I didn't know, actually. But, within a few weeks, I was sure."
"You carried my child, Loren, and didn't tell me?"
"There wasn't time."
"Time? I—I can't believe it!" He was obviously shaken. "Why didn't you pick up the phone and call me?"
"Because I. . . aborted at six weeks." She hated that medical term, but at least she could say it now. She had been alone and shed many tears over this.
"Abortion! My God, Loren, how in hell could you?" He grabbed her arms with such a forceful grip that, for a moment, Loren feared his strength.
Angel stood in the doorway, switching her tail and me-owing.
Chapter Five
Loren tried to wrench free from Reid's powerful grasp, but found herself lift
ed almost nose-to-nose with him. She could feel his steady breath falling evenly on her face, while hers was an irregular rasping that caught in her throat. Her immediate fear of his masculine strength was replaced with cool anger. Reid wouldn't dare hurt her. Through clenched teeth Loren muttered, "I was all alone here in Washington. You were out in God-knows-where, Arizona, getting ready for your big wedding when I had the miscarriage. It didn’t seem to be the right time."
Reid shook her slightly, his breath hot on her face. "Miscarriage . . . abortion—which was it? Your choice of words is confusing."
"What difference does it make?" Her voice was grating and hard. "You weren't here, didn't care what happened to me. Or our child."
His ebony eyes cut into her, and he clamped his jaw tightly. A muscle flexed across the dark cheek as Reid shoved her roughly from him. Fury raged through him, affecting his formerly even breathing. "Of course, I care. Cared," he retorted. "Oh, Loren, how can you say that? You act as though you don't know me at all, when you actually know me better than any woman ever has. I . . . loved you. I trusted you."
Her hands rubbed the throbbing forearms where he had gripped her. "Trust?" she stormed. "We don't know each other at all now."
"I can tell you this. If only I had known, if you had told me you were pregnant, I would have been here, by your side, immediately."
Loren's voice countered coldly, left that way from too many tears shed alone over the years. "No one could have prevented what happened, Reid. Even if you had been here . . . and cared. I told you that I miscarried, aborted naturally. I wouldn't have an abortion. Couldn 't! Surely you realize that."
He turned to her, crumbling inside at her words. "Miscarriage?" The full implications rocked through him. "Loren, Loren, honey, I'm sorry. So sorry." Suddenly his voice was shaky, and he attempted to take her in his arms. He craved to comfort her, to hold her. But it was too late. She was stiff and cold in response.
"I wish to God I had been here with you. More than ever, mi amor. "
Loren quivered inside at the sound of the old affectionate phrase. With effort she pushed his arms from her. "Please, don't, Reid. It's over now. Long time over."
Then another thought struck him. "What if . . . what if you had been able to carry my child, Loren? Would you ever have let me know? My own child!" His broad chest heaved with emotion, and he struggled to keep from touching her.
A vengeful smile curled Loren's lips, and she folded her arms across soft breasts. "Oh, you bet! I would have slapped you with a paternity suit so quickly! What a lovely wedding present that would have made!"
He sighed heavily as his hands knotted into impotent fists. "I wish you had, Loren. Oh, God, I wish you had."
Loren watched him carefully, almost vindictively. After all, she had been through a lot of hell because of him. Because of him? Was that entirely fair? She had been a willing lover. Now he was saying he wished he had known about her tragedy. Their tragedy. He would have been here. Helped ... shared ... comforted. Should she believe him? She tried to explain, feeling that he deserved to know.
"It all happened so fast. I was having some physical problems, which is why I stopped taking the pill. By the time I realized that I was actually pregnant, my condition had worsened. I thought my physical problems were emotional, caused by our separation. There was nothing to be done to prevent the miscarriage. The doctor assured me it was for the best. At the time I doubted it. But now, realistically, I know he's right."
Reid looked at her silently, his eyes deep and sorrowful. Or was that just what Loren wanted to see in his reactions—sympathy, remorse, agony? They were all there. But they failed to give her the satisfaction she always thought they would. She had wanted to punish him as she had been punished. And here, Reid seemed quite shaken by the revelation. He appeared truly disconcerted by the idea that they could have produced a child, if only—but life doesn't depend on ‘if only.’
Loren continued to explain, her tone dull. "I was so hurt that you would go directly from my arms to hers, that I couldn't think straight. The pregnancy was just another reason to hate you."
"Hate me?" Reid raised his dark eyebrows. "I don't . . . can't believe that, Loren."
She smiled ruefully. "I wanted to. It would have been easier if I could have despised you. But you know, I couldn't do that." Her voice trailed to a whisper.
His finger lifted her chin. "I didn't spend last night with a woman who hated me. Or this morning." His crooked smile was half teasing, half serious.
Her modest grin matched his, allowing the crisp air between them to soften. "I guess I'm just a sucker for old love stories."
His kiss was gentle as he teased her lips. "Our love story is just beginning, baby."
She shook her head and moved away from him. "There are too many complications to our lives now, Reid. You have your father to care for and a very different lifestyle out West. I have my career here in Washington. Then, there is—"
"Mark?"
She sighed. "Yes, Mark."
"What is your relationship with him?"
She turned away. "We're supposed to get married sometime."
There was an uncomfortable pause, then Reid asked the obvious question. "Do you love him?"
Loren laughed dryly. "What difference does that make? Mark and I have many of the same interests. We get along nicely. And he's here in Washington. He understands me and my needs. I understand his."
Reid looked at her with hard, cold eyes. "What difference? It makes a hell of a difference, Loren! How can you think of marrying him if you don't love him?"
"I loved you once, and it didn't lead to marriage. I don't think love is necessarily a requirement!"
"How can you consider marrying one man when your love is for another?" His words cut into her.
Defiantly Loren shot back, "But it isn't! I don't love another!"
Reid stepped close, leaning toward her until she backed against the kitchen cabinet. When there was no place else to go, he bent down and caressed her lips with his own. His hands braced on the cabinet above her head. When the brief, orderly kiss was over, his lips curled into a formidable grin. "Oh, Loren, you can't respond to my kiss like that and convince me you love another man."
Instantly his vicious methods registered and Loren furiously raised a hand to slap him. He caught her hand in mid-air, then, grasping the other one, pinned them both to her back, kissing her soundly again. With her arms so caught he pressed his own chest tauntingly against her arched, full breasts. Her body refused to fight his advances and continued to respond, despite her wishes. A tightness grew within her as his torment elicited the desired reactions from her. He could tell she still responded to him!
When he finally released her, Loren moaned angrily. "Damn you, Reid Mecina. You're a devil to manipulate me like that."
"Guilty," he murmured against her cheek. "I just wanted you to see how explosively we react together, Loren. The combustible chemistry is still there, so don't deny it."
"Then I am the biggest fool of all. Please leave. I need to be alone to think and to sort this out."
He released her hands, but stood close. "Okay. I guess you do need some time. So do I. I'm staying at the Fairfax. I'll gather my things and be back later."
"No. You're not staying here. Not this time, Reid." Her voice had a firmness that was unfamiliar to him.
"You don't want me here?" It was a little-boy tone, and she wanted to concur. But she wouldn't give in. Wouldn't let herself.
"No. I definitely do not You . . . you just can't."
"Why? Does Mark stay here? On weekends? Did I take his spot last night?" There was a bitter hardness in his tone.
Loren propped her hands on her hips defiantly. "No, he doesn't stay here. But, I . . . well, I just won't have you living here. You can't step back into my life this easily. I need time. And space. We both do."
Reid moved away, reaching for his jacket, which was still hanging casually on the chair. "Maybe you're right, Loren. But I'l
l guarantee that you haven't seen the last of me."
She placed her hand on his muscular arm. "Reid, we both have a lot to consider. To think about."
He nodded curtly. "Yes, I suppose we do. Right now I'm only thinking about us. Loren, I want to see you. Soon. What are you doing tonight?"
"Mark and I usually go out on Saturday nights."
Reid winced, knowing the reality of the situation. He was now seeing another man's woman. Loren was another man's woman. Damn! He sizzled inside with the thought. "Can you cancel? Tell him you're still sick?"
Loren sighed, thinking miserably about yet another lie. "I ... I suppose so."
His order was abrupt and cold. "Then do it. I want to see you tonight."
Suddenly Loren's conscience surfaced. "Reid, I don't think I can. I just can't continue to lie to Mark then spend the evening with another man."
The awful truth settled in on Reid and gnawed at his gut. He was the other man in Loren's life. The intruder. The villain. Oh, God, he hated the role. He wanted her . . . all to himself again. He ground his teeth together before answering. "Then don't lie to Mark. Tell him about us."
"Reid." Loren's eyes implored, searching his ebony eyes for understanding. "You know I can't do that."
His hand cupped her chin. "Loren, I must see you. I just want to talk to you ... get to know you again. Is that too much to ask?"
She shook her head silently. No, that isn't too much to ask. I want it too.
He smiled tightly. "Fine. I'll bring dinner. About eight. How does Chinese food sound?"
Loren sighed miserably. How could she possibly refuse Reid? She had never been able to. Except once. Loren's head nodded, barely perceptibly.
"Loren." His voice was a husky whisper. "I don't want to intrude on your life. Just tell me to go to hell if you don't want to see me again."
Tears filled her eyes at his words. How many times had she wanted to do just that? But she shook her head. "I want you to see you again, Reid."
"I won't impose anything on you that you don't want. Do you understand? No demands, Loren. We'll talk and ... I won't spend the night again if you don't want me to." His hand caressed her cheek.
A Lasting Love Page 6
