by Neesa Hart
“Yes.” His voice sounded gravelly.
She slid out of the chair and dashed toward the door. “Thanks. Ms. Jordan promised me and Beth we could have free ice cream at the hop shop if we helped her with the chalkboards this afternoon.”
“Don’t want to miss that,” he answered.
And she was gone.
Eli groaned and dropped into the chair.
“Congratulations,” Liza said softly.
He met her gaze. “I don’t think I’ve felt this good in months.”
7
Liza slanted Eli a cautious glance as he drove in silence toward her apartment. When they reached the parking lot, he didn’t even wait for an invitation. He rounded the car and took her elbow so he could walk with her to her door.
The evening, she knew, had exacted a high price on his temper. Anna had arranged for Liza, Eli, Grace and the Paschells to join her for dinner at Solanto’s. Twice, Eli had excused himself from the table for what Liza suspected was a trip outside where the air didn’t ring with Doris’s barbed comments or Leonard’s snide remarks. Anna had deflected the majority of the venom with her usual finesse, while Liza had spent the bulk of the evening twisting her linen napkin into knots. For her part, Grace hardly spoke until after dessert, when Eli asked her if she’d like Anna to take her home.
That suggestion had sent the child into flights of rapture. At the Paschells’ protest, Liza had quickly pointed out that Grace had class in the morning. Finally, the couple had given in. No sooner had Grace and Anna left the table, however, than Doris had stripped off any semblance of civility and ripped into Eli. Angry that he’d taken Grace away from the city, angrier still that he’d done it against her objections, and furious that Grace was taking dance lessons, when, evidently, her mother had expressly forbidden them, Doris had blistered Eli with a twenty-minute harangue. Leonard’s only addition had been to deliver a cold warning about the effect all these changes might be having on Grace. And then he’d said the word custody.
As soon as the threat was in the open, Eli tossed his napkin to the table, rose to his feet, and extended his hand to Liza. “Ready?” he’d asked her.
Silently, she’d stood. He then leveled his amber gaze on his in-laws and bit out a slicing directive that he hoped this visit ended their harassment of him and Grace. Without further comment, he’d led Liza from the restaurant. He’d left the bill, she noted with sadistic glee, to his in-laws.
Once in his car, she’d tried to cajole him out of his brooding silence, but her attempts were met with monosyllabic answers and terse silence.
Now, as she fumbled with her key, she cast a cautious glance at his profile. He looked—she considered it for a moment—predatory. She’d seen a nature special once that had studied lions, and the changes in their behavior immediately before and immediately following a hunt. Eli had that before-the-hunt look.
Quickly, she turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door. He wasted no time.
She had the briefest of moments to observe that his expression had altered from glittering rage to glittering something else before he shoved the door shut with his foot, braced his back against it, and pulled her into his arms. “Damn it,” he said as his head bent to hers.
Liza managed a slight gasp, then found herself engulfed in a storm. Overwhelmingly intense, his kiss stole her breath. Nothing had prepared her for the fire of it. The electricity that shimmered between them had never seemed this forceful—this overwhelming. The actualization of that energy, and the sensation of having his lips on hers, she realized before she lost the ability to think of anything at all, swallowed her whole.
Eli circled her waist with one arm as he eased her steadily between his outstretched legs. At a flick of his hand, her purse tumbled to the floor. He guided her arms around his neck, then settled his remaining hand at her waist. Her fingers threaded into his hair. She tugged until it slid loose from the leather band that held the queue in place. Warm and silky, she couldn’t stop sifting it through her hands.
With his large palms pressed to her spine, his thighs anchored against her hips, and his mouth moving over hers with silken promise, he wove his magic until her knees buckled. Liza found herself clinging to his shoulders. She’d never considered herself the clinging type, but then, Eli had a way of turning her into a puddle.
When he finally lifted his head, she had trouble focusing her eyes. She pressed her face to his throat. “Eli, the other day, when I told you the timing had to be right for us—”
He trailed a line of kisses along the cord of her neck. “Hmm.”
The slight grunt sounded so arrogantly male, she smiled. “I think maybe it’s right.”
He went perfectly still. “Liza—” he breathed her name against her ear. His breath felt hot and sensual.
“You can’t stay the night,” she said quietly. She wasn’t sure if that was merely a warning or an argument.
“I know.” He still hadn’t moved.
She drew a deep breath. “Take me to bed, Eli.”
His groan ricocheted off her sensitized nerves. He kissed her again, slanting his mouth over hers until she felt her equilibrium shatter. “Tell me what pleases you,” he muttered as he swung her into his arms. “I want to know what turns you on.”
She released a shuddering breath. “You do.”
He carried her down the hallway. His every touch sent heat coursing through her. The way he looked at her had her trembling. He seemed fascinated by the goosebumps on her flesh. He touched her, and caressed her, and made her feel indescribably beautiful.
Neither of them spoke as they peeled away clothing and inhibitions. She sensed his urgency, and surrendered to it. His nerves, she knew, had been laid bare that day, and at least she could give him these few moments of oblivion.
When they stood naked, lit only by the shaft of moonlight streaming in through her windows, she led him to the bed—where he took her to paradise. He didn’t take his eyes off her when he retrieved the foil packet from his wallet—nor when he readied himself to protect her.
When he joined their bodies and visited indescribable pleasure on her, she felt her mind slipping away. He called her name at the last—when Liza was clinging to him, their breath and their heartbeats were so close they were indistinguishable.
Afterward, she lay panting against his chest, feeling the same breathless exhilaration she felt after she danced—only better. The feeling frightened her a little, but she refused to give in to that fear. Instead, she traced a lazy pattern on his bare chest, listening to the rapid beat of his heart. A few seconds more, she promised herself. Just a few seconds more.
Eli’s hands slid over her naked skin, as if he couldn’t stop touching her. She tried to cling to the pleasure for as long as she could, but the insistent voice in her head grew louder. Don’t get too close, it warned. Whatever you do, don’t get too close.
With a heavy sigh, she released her fragile grip on the peaceful contentment, and watched it slip away like leaves on the wind. Her eyes drifted shut in a moment of regret, before she took a firm hold of herself and forced levity into her tone. “How do you do this to me?” she asked, taking heavy breaths of his clean scent.
“It’s not me.” His palms slid up her spine. “It’s us.”
Liza summoned the energy to push away from him. He let her ease back a couple of inches, but kept his hands firmly locked on her back. She frowned, but didn’t struggle. “I don’t think so. I think it’s you.”
“Uh uh.” His grin was devilish. “Chemistry, remember?”
“I flunked chemistry.” She couldn’t keep the irritation from her voice.
“You’ll pass it this time.” He kissed her again, more softly, breathtakingly sweet. “I’m going to give you private lessons.”
“The last time I took a chemistry class, I set the lab on fire.”
Amusement sparkled in his amber eyes. “So far, you’re batting a thousand, then, babe—because you set me on fire every time you look
at me.”
She gave him a disgruntled look and pulled free of his arms. “Very funny.”
“Personally,” he assured her, his tone cautious. “I find it hilarious.” He paused. “Is something wrong?”
Liza deliberately turned away from him and swung her feet over the side of the bed. “Of course not. Do you want something to drink before you go home?”
“Very subtle,” he muttered. “You’re acting weird.”
“Sorry. One of my moods, I guess.” She reached for her robe. “Grace is waiting for you—or did you forget that?”
That same anger she’d sensed in him briefly flared in his gaze. “Damn it, Liza, I just spent an entire evening defending my right to be a father to my own child. You don’t have to remind me of my responsibilities.”
The harsh note in his voice melted her as little else could. Filled with remorse, she leaned across the bed and softly kissed him. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
He crushed her to him. They lay in silence for several moments while he drew comfort from her presence. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
“It’s been an emotional kind of day,” she admitted. “I understand.”
His hands molded her to him. “I don’t want to leave.”
“You have to. I understand, Eli. Don’t worry about it.”
He studied her through narrowed eyes. “You’re sure you’re all right.”
“I’m fine.” She could see the doubt in his eyes, so she shook her head. “Really,” she assured him. “I’m fine. We both knew it would be like this.”
“I want to wake up with you tomorrow.”
“And you can’t. Neither can I, for that matter.” She couldn’t define the strange feelings roiling through her, but she didn’t like them. She felt betrayed, irrationally, by the very truth she’d felt compelled to point out to him. She wondered if he’d always have the power to do this to her—to send her normally steady emotional well-being into orbit.
“I suppose,” he said finally, “that I should at least be grateful to the Paschells for this.”
He was teasing and she knew it. But it stung. She looked away to mask her hurt. “I suppose so.”
“You are upset,” he said.
“No. I think you should go now.”
He swore again. “You know if it weren’t for Grace—”
“I know.”
“She has to come first, Liza.”
She did know that, and she felt like a jerk. She also felt like having a good cry and didn’t know why. “I’m the one who pointed out that it was time for you to go, remember.”
He studied her a moment longer, then rolled from the bed. She watched him put on his trousers and shirt. He dropped to the side of the bed to slide on his socks and shoes. “She’ll be wondering where I am.”
“I’m sure she will.”
He glanced at her over his shoulder. “And you’re sure you’re all right.”
“Fabulous.”
He frowned at that. “Why do I think I’m going to regret this by tomorrow?”
“I don’t know.”
“I have a very sick feeling that I’m screwing this up as surely as I screw up every conversation I try to have with my child.” A rare note of uncertainty laced his tone.
Liza deliberately put aside her misgivings and focused on him. “You’re a wonderful parent,” she assured him. “Grace loves you very much. It’s obvious.”
“I can’t lose her,” he said—his voice gruff.
“I know. You won’t.”
He finished putting on his shoes, then leaned over the bed to kiss her a final time. “Thanks for tonight.”
She frowned. “Don’t mention it.”
He watched her for several seconds, that same puzzled look in his eyes, then stood. “Why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll see myself out.”
“Okay.”
He nodded once, then strode from the room. She leaned back against the pillows, fighting a wave of unexpected anger. What had she expected anyway?
She heard him shut her apartment door, and she leapt from the bed, pulling the belt of her robe tighter as she ran. When she ripped open the door, he was standing at the end of the hall near the elevator. “Oh, by the way,” she called. “In case you were wondering—it was good for me.”
His eyes widened in shock. “Liza.”
“Thanks for asking. Have a nice night, Eli.”
She slammed the door shut only to have him pound on it seconds later. “Damn it, Liza. Open the door.”
“No,” she told him. “You have to go home now.”
He swore. “We’re drawing a crowd out here, do you know that?”
Her neighbors and colleagues, she imagined, were enjoying the hell out of this. “I’m not the one banging on the door in the middle of the night.”
He swore again. “Are you going to let me in or not?”
“Not tonight,” she assured him.
She could practically feel his frustration through the door. “I’m going home now.”
“Have a nice evening.” This time, his curses were more colorful. “And watch your language,” she chided. “You’re supposed to be setting an example for the students.”
“We will discuss this tomorrow,” he promised.
She didn’t answer, and seconds later, heard him stalk away.
“What did you say,” Anna asked her at six the next morning. “Specifically?”
Liza’s eyes drifted shut. She should have expected this, she supposed. After the scene she’d caused last night, it shouldn’t have surprised her that Anna, and evidently the rest of the campus, already knew what had happened. These things never took long. “Who told you?”
Anna’s leather desk chair creaked as she leaned back in it. They were enjoying their six A.M. morning ritual of coffee and campus gossip. They’d been meeting at this time for years—having long ago learned that the early morning quiet was the best time for undisturbed conversation. Anna answered, “He did.”
Liza’s eyes shot open. “Eli?”
“Yes. I was waiting at his apartment with Grace, you’ll remember. He was a bit, uh, agitated when he came in.”
She smiled slightly. “I’ll bet.”
“What did you say to him, Liza?”
“I don’t think it was what I said—I think it was the moment of delivery that mattered.”
“You slept with him,” Anna said. It wasn’t a question.
“We made love,” Liza admitted. “There wasn’t any sleeping involved.”
“You’re angry.”
Liza frowned. “Not really. It just knocked me off balance a little. I’d been telling him for days that he didn’t really have a grasp of how difficult this would be.” She picked up her coffee cup and took a sip. “You should have told me that he watched me dance.”
“You would have been uncomfortable.”
“Yes.”
Anna studied her, probing. “Why is that?”
“You know why. No one watches me perform. Not since—well, I quit that.”
“It’s not right, Liza.”
“It’s my choice,” she said firmly. “And you shouldn’t have told him.”
“I like to meddle. You’ll have to forgive me.” The twinkle in the older woman’s eyes belied the humility of the answer.
Liza couldn’t suppress a laugh. “You’re impossible, do you know that?”
“So everyone’s been telling me.” Anna drank some of her coffee. “May I take this to mean that you aren’t going to tell me what happened last night?”
“You may.”
“Are you angry at him?”
“No.”
“He thinks so.”
“I’m not. I’m just annoyed that things are so—frustrating. And that he’s so cavalier about it. He could at least try to act like it bothers him a little.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know. There’s not much to do.”
“I don’t
think he’s going to let the matter go, Liza.”
She winced. “I was kind of afraid of that.”
“And you might as well prepare yourself for the third degree from your neighbors.”
“You don’t think they’d dare ask me to my face, do you?”
“Depends,” Anna said, “on how much you piqued their curiosity.”
“Oh, it’s piqued all right.”
Anna’s eyebrows lifted to disappear behind her fringe of bangs. “I can see I should have pumped Eli for more information.”
“You’re not getting it from me.”
“I’ll wheedle it out of him.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
With a nod, Anna put down her cup. “All right, let’s go over this report before we run out of time. Since you’re not going to assuage me, you might as well brief me on this afternoon’s faculty meeting.”
Eli stood in the narrow corridor outside Liza’s rehearsal room and wrestled with his temper—and, if he were honest with himself, a growing sense of anxiety. He’d used her last night.
And she’d known it. He’d been tense and angry after the confrontation with his in-laws, and he’d used Liza to work off his frustration. He’d taken women to bed for less honorable reasons, he supposed, but somehow, it hadn’t seemed to matter before.
Today, he felt low as a snake.
After a mostly sleepless night when he’d had ample time to think about what she’d said, how she’d acted, and how he’d reacted, he’d awakened feeling irritable and stressed—and an uncomfortable twinge of guilt had been eating at him all morning.
Sure, she’d known from the start that he wanted her. He’d been playing from an open deck. But that didn’t change the simple fact that he’d taken advantage of a very tense situation last night—and she knew it.
The door of Liza’s classroom opened, and her students began to file into the hall. This was her last class of the day. If he caught her now, he could have her all to himself. Enough time, he thought grimly, to grovel.
Several of the girls greeted him as they walked past. He chatted with them, keeping a careful eye on the door. When Liza finally appeared, the small crowd of students seemed to sense the importance of the moment. They stopped talking. Liza met his gaze over their heads. She looked tired, he noted, but oh so incredibly touchable. With a fine sheen of sweat still glistening on her forehead, and her red leotard casting a rosy hue on her skin, she looked very much like she had when he’d slid out of bed the night before. She held his gaze a second longer, then turned to shut and lock the door behind her with careful precision.
