He sighed. "Elyse, don't. You have every right to be furious with me, but I'm trying my best to apologize. What I did was wrong, and I can only plead temporary insanity, but when I heard that Paul was being seen with still another woman I just assumed—"
He broke off and drained his coffee cup. "I've told you about his problem with women, and I had no reason to think this one was any different. Another spate of publicity like last time, and both our careers could be in trouble. Paul still has to pass his bar exam, and I'm running for reelection. In both cases moral character is important."
Damn him, he was stirring up feelings she didn't want stirred up. Why didn't he just leave her alone? Even if she forgave him—and in the interest of family harmony she'd have to if Paul and Liz got back together—it was not only pointless but dangerous to have tender feelings for him. He wasn't interested in her as anything but a possible sister-in-law—and maybe another voter.
The needle slipped and jabbed her fingers, and she winced. "You didn't tell Liz and Paul we'd met before, did you?"
"No. If you think Liz shouldn't know, then I won't tell her, but I'd really prefer to have everything out in the open now." The corners of his mouth turned up in a small grin. "As you know, I'm not good at intrigue."
In spite of her efforts not to, she couldn't help smiling with him. "You're probably right, but if things go wrong this time we'll both be to blame." She glanced down and gasped. "Oh, darn!"
"What's the matter?" Clint's grin was gone, replaced by a look of concern.
Elyse held up her hand to expose one finger with blood smeared on the tip. "I pricked my finger, and it bled on the delicate material. I'm not at all sure I can get the stain out."
He reached out and took her hand, and guided it to his mouth. "Poor little finger," he said softly, and gently licked it before placing it against his lips.
Elyse felt the tingle all the way to her toes, with emphasis on several extremely intimate places in between. Good heavens, she'd never dreamed that a finger could be an erogenous zone!
Before she could gather her scattered wits and pull away, he carefully folded her fingers into her palm and nestled the loose fist in his big one. "Such little hands to be so talented," he murmured. "They not only fashion exquisite dolls, they soothe a small daughter's fears and hurts. I'll bet they could drive a man mad."
The tingle turned into pinprick flames, and Elyse was in imminent danger of melting. No man had ever affected her this way before with just a touch and a few huskily spoken words. She had an overwhelming urge to find out just what her hands could do to him.
Her gaze was drawn irresistibly to his thigh resting so close to her own. If she moved her leg just a little, it would brush against the fine wool trousers that encased his firm leg.
She felt a gentle tug on her arm as he pulled her toward him, then the hot flush of embarrassment as her face flamed. He was seducing her—and without even half trying.
She jerked her hand from his and jumped up, scattering thread and fabric on the floor. "Go away, Clint," she rasped. "I don't want you here. Either go back into the other room with Paul and Liz or go home, but stay away from me. I'll try to get along with you for Liz's sake, but keep your hands off me."
He rose, too, and stood behind her. "I'm not sure I can," he said simply. "Turn around, Elyse."
His tone had a hypnotic effect, and she turned as if she had no choice in the matter. Again they were so close they were almost touching.
"I'm going to take your hand again," he said. "I won't make a pass, so please don't pull away."
As he spoke he reached down for her hand. His own was warm and strong and sent electric sparks up her arm. He brought it up between them and tucked it inside the expensive coat of his dark blue suit on the left side of his chest and held it there. She could feel his heart pounding.
"You see what you do to me?" It seemed to her the pounding speeded up beneath her palm. "I couldn't fake that, and there's no reason I'd want to. It's not pleasant for a man to be aroused by a woman who has nothing but contempt for him. If I could turn off my feelings, I would."
She looked up at him, and there was a painful brooding expression on his thoroughly masculine face. "Last weekend when we were together I was nearly torn apart with guilt because I thought you were the woman my brother was interested in, and I couldn't control the tender, protective feelings you inspired in me. The need to see you, hear your voice, keep you close."
He continued to hold her hand against his chest as he slid his other arm around her waist and carefully drew her to him. "I could have found out all I needed to know in just a few hours, but I couldn't bring myself to break the tenuous connection I had with you. I told myself you couldn't be as sweet and loving as you seemed to be, therefore I had to keep seeing you until I'd unveiled the kind of avaricious schemer Paul usually attracts. I couldn't admit you were a godsend for my brother—exactly the kind of woman he needed—because then I'd have to step out of the picture and give you to him."
As he talked, Elyse found her head drawn to his shoulder, and she snuggled her face against the side of his neck. His heart jumped under her hand, and his arm tightened around her waist, but he continued to speak.
"By the time we left the zoo in Sacramento on Sunday, I was convinced you were everything you seemed to be, and I knew I had to stay away from you and give Paul my blessing. Then, when we stopped for lunch and I questioned you about your dates, you told me you didn't have many and there was no special man in your life. I thought you were lying. You had to be, because in my great wisdom I knew you were going out with Paul."
He turned his head and kissed her exposed cheek. "It never once occurred to me I might have been investigating the wrong woman all along. I didn't even consider the idea I might have made a mistake." His tone was self-deprecating. "God, I didn't realize I'd started believing my own campaign publicity. The relief I felt when Paul introduced your sister as the woman he loved was almost overwhelming."
His lips brushing her cheek released shivers down her spine, and she moved her head to rub her face in the soft wool that covered his broad shoulder. He smelled of fabric and soap and a fresh, woodsy shaving lotion.
When she spoke, her question had nothing to do with his long involved explanation and took them both by surprise. "Have you ever been married, Clint?"
She felt him relax slightly, and there was a trace of amusement in his voice as he answered. "No, never."
She pondered that for a moment. "I was going to be married once. The date was set, the invitations mailed and my white satin dress hanging in the closet wrapped in protective covering."
Clint waited a moment for her to go on. When she didn't he asked, "What happened?"
She took a deep breath, then let it out. "Three days before the wedding he collapsed and died of a heart attack. Two weeks later I found out I was pregnant."
She felt his hand stroking through her hair. "I'm sorry," he whispered against her ear, and compassion vibrated in his tone.
"So am I, but I have Janey, and she makes life beautiful."
For a few minutes they stood in silence, savoring their closeness. Then she asked another question. "Were you ever in love?"
Elyse was surprised at her boldness. She didn't usually ask such personal questions, but never before had the answers been so important to her. Neither had she ever volunteered information about her aborted wedding.
Clint didn't seem to mind. There was no resentment in his voice when he answered. "Yes, once."
"Did—did you lose her?"
"Yes, but not by death. She went away." He didn't explain further.
She turned her head again and trailed kisses along his jaw. "That must have been terribly painful for you."
He leaned into her lips, encouraging her to continue. "It was, but eventually I learned to live with the pain, and then it became more bearable."
With the slightest turn of both their heads their mouths met and clung. She moved her arms to enci
rcle his neck, and he put both arms around her waist but didn't attempt to deepen the kiss. It was warm and tender and a little moist, and Elyse was lost in its sweetness.
She'd dreamed of an embrace like this—one of deep caring laced with, but not overcome by, passion.
Clint's hands stayed at her waist until one slid down her hip to push her against him. It was then that she realized it was determination, not disinclination, that was holding him back. He was urgently aroused, and she was rapidly becoming so.
They broke the kiss by mutual consent, but he continued to hold her. When their breathing had returned to normal, he said, "I haven't had dinner yet. Let's go find someplace to eat. Liz and Paul will be here with Janey."
Elyse wanted to go with him, and her first inclination was to say yes, but then her common sense resurfaced. He was a nice man, but he was way out of her league, and she was already becoming too fond of him. Her feelings were heightening too fast. Better to end things now. She wasn't sure she could survive a second heartbreak.
Reluctantly she took her arms from around his neck and stood back, breaking his hold on her. "Thank you, but I've already eaten," she said, "and I have an early appointment tomorrow with a customer who wants a custom-designed doll, so I'm going to bed."
He looked disappointed but didn't argue. "Perhaps it's just as well," he said, instead.
He tipped her pointed chin up with his finger and kissed her lightly on the lips. "Good night, little doll. I'll call you." He turned and walked away from her. "I can see myself out," he called over his shoulder.
Clint sat in the all-night chain restaurant on Main Street, just down the steep hill and around the corner from the Haley home, and contemplated the club sandwich the waitress had brought him. He hadn't realized it would be so huge. It nearly covered the platter-sized plate, and the remaining space was piled with thick french fries. If he ate all that, he'd have trouble sleeping.
Not that it mattered. He wasn't going to get much sleep anyway; he was still too worked up from his kitchen encounter with Elyse. He was high on the feel and the scent and the taste of her, and his loins ached with the need for more.
He shifted, trying to get comfortable. Damn, she'd really unhinged him, and it was his own fault. He should have apologized and kept his hands off her. He was too old to be playing with fire.
He bit into one of the sandwich quarters. Actually, to be truthful, he'd have to admit the time spent with Elyse in his arms was worth all the frustration he was feeling. She was a special lady, and he believed her now when she said she didn't date often. She'd been skittish, uneasy with him until he'd understood and taken things step by step.
When she'd finally relaxed, her response had been all he'd ever hoped for and more. She was shy but not afraid; willing, but only within the bounds of her moral standard; and generous enough to give as well as take.
Elyse Haley was a threat to his hard-won serenity. For the first time since Dinah had left, he'd met a woman who could get under the protective armor he'd so carefully constructed and stir his emotions. He didn't want that, couldn't chance it.
He'd been too badly scarred the last time. He was no longer capable of true love. Dinah had done real emotional damage, and in the end he'd do the same thing to Elyse. She'd already had one tragic love affair; he wasn't going to doom her to another.
It was five days before Elyse heard from Clint again. Five days of listening for the phone to ring, of watching the street in front of the house for a cream Cadillac, of rushing to the door when the bell rang, then trying to pretend she didn't care when it wasn't him.
By Monday she'd finally accepted the fact that he wasn't going to call. That's the way she'd wanted it, so why mope around and feel depressed? Senator Clinton Sterling was too old, too sophisticated, too rich and too powerful to be interested in a woman with an illegitimate daughter.
She washed off the breakfast dishes at the kitchen sink and stacked them in the dishwasher. A smile curved her mouth as she picked up the bowl with the soft-boiled egg stains. At least Liz was happy again and making a valiant effort to lose a few of the pounds she'd put on over the past couple of years.
Liz and Paul had arrived at a compromise Wednesday night. She'd agree to date him again if he would forget about marriage—at least for the time being. They'd been out together several times since, and after they'd left Saturday night, Liz hadn't come home until Sunday evening.
It wasn't an ideal situation. They were crazy in love and Elyse was sure that neither of them would be content with this arrangement for long, but it bought them time to consider both the problems and the joys of an unconventional pairing. She wished them happiness.
Janey was in nursery school and Elyse was busy in her attic workshop when the phone rang. She was pouring slip into head molds and didn't interrupt her work but waited until she was finished to answer.
"Good morning," said the baritone voice at the other end.
It was Clint, and a flash of heat left Elyse feeling weak.
She swallowed. "Good morning, Clint." Good, her voice not only worked, but it was smooth and cool.
"Am I interrupting anything?"
"I'm molding doll heads." She wanted him to know she had other things to do besides sit around waiting for him to call.
"Sorry, I won't keep you but a minute," he said. "I'm taking part in a panel discussion at CSUS Thursday night at seven, and there's a reception afterward. Will you go with me?"
California State University Sacramento. The school she'd attended for two years before she'd had to drop out to take on the more important role of mother. It would be fun to go back, but… "Oh, Clint, I don't—"
"Please come," he interrupted. "You'd be doing me a big favor. It's been a long time since I was in my teens and early twenties, and I'm not sure I'll know how to talk to these kids." He chuckled. "You're just the right age to translate for me."
She felt let down. He wanted her along because she could be of use to him. "I only had two years of college, Clint. I don't speak the language, either. You'd better find somebody—"
"You'll do just fine, and I don't want anybody else." He was serious now. "This is a community services thing, and it's being held in the student union building. There's a snack bar there. I'll pick you up a little early and we can have a sandwich or something first."
His tone told her he wasn't going to accept any excuses. "Well, all right," she said, "but there's no need for you to drive all the way from your office in Sacramento to Placerville to get me. I can meet you on the first floor of the student union."
Clint hesitated. "But then you'd have to drive all the way back up there alone after dark."
Elyse was buoyed by his protectiveness toward her. "Oh, come now, Clint," she teased, "I'm a big girl. I've been known to stay out after dark before. I'll be on campus by six thirty. Is that early enough?"
"Well, okay, but I'll drive behind you all the way home." He paused for a moment, then lowered his voice to a murmur. "Elyse?"
"Yes?" She sounded breathless.
"I've missed you. It's going to be a long time until Thursday. Don't let me down, please."
She gripped the phone to keep her hand from shaking. "I won't. I promise."
Thursday did indeed take forever to arrive. Then when it did the day sped by and left her rushing to get ready. What did a woman wear when being escorted to a forum by a state senator? Should she dress like a college girl, since she'd be on campus, or like a politically sophisticated businesswoman, which she definitely wasn't? In the end she decided to go as Mary Elyse Haley, mother, doll maker and novice senatorial date.
She chose a blue-and-white-striped cotton dress with a full skirt, long full sleeves, and white collar, cuffs and belt. It was prim, but pretty and stylish.
She spotted Clint as soon as she walked through the door of the student union building. He was talking to a tall thin balding man, but his gaze meshed with hers and he motioned her to come and join them.
He watched
her as she crossed the room, then took her arm when she stopped beside him and smiled down at her. "Thank you for coming," he murmured before turning his attention to the other man. "Elyse, I'd like you to meet Dr. Grant Lowell, who's head of the political science department. Grant, this is Elyse Haley."
They shook hands, and Elyse said, "I remember you, Dr. Lowell. I was a student here about four years ago."
The three of them exchanged small talk for a few minutes before Clint and Elyse were able to break away and head for the coffee shop. He pressed Elyse's arm against him as they moved across the room. "You look like one of your own dolls," he told her, and his voice was soft with admiration. "I'm afraid you're going to prove to be a major distraction."
Elyse's doubts clutched at her. "Oh, Clint, I'm sorry. Should I have worn something else?" She looked around to see what the other women in the building were wearing.
"Honey, you distract me just by being in the same room. It wouldn't matter what you wore, but tonight you look especially appealing. I'd give anything to have you alone for a few minutes." His tone was low and seductive, and she shivered.
Chapter Four
Clint and Elyse had almost reached the student union coffee shop, when a young man in jeans and a sweatshirt stopped them. "Excuse me, but aren't you Senator Sterling?"
Clint nodded and put out his hand. "Yes, I am." They shook hands, and the other man identified himself as a constituent and launched into a rambling discussion of a bill coming up in the legislature that he wanted passed. Clint tried several times to interrupt, but the enthusiastic student was determined to present his argument before he was stopped.
When he finally wound down, Clint thanked him for presenting his opinion and promised to weigh it before voting. The man walked away, and Clint looked at his watch and groaned. "I'm sorry, but I can't very well brush off a voter just before an election, and now I'm not going to have time to eat." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. "Here, you go have something and join us later upstairs."
Cross My Heart Page 5
