Cross My Heart (5 page)

He stopped at the window and looked out at the night,
illuminated by trillions of twinkling stars and the slender crescent
moon. He'd left shortly after she'd slammed the door and it had become
apparent she wasn't going to let him in. There was nothing else he
could do, and even if she had been willing to talk to him, he'd
probably have managed to say the wrong thing.

Early the following morning he'd flown to Washington, D.C.
for a conference on national party issues, and he'd only just returned,
so he hadn't had a chance to go back to try to straighten things out
with her. He knew now what he was going to do, though, and it wasn't
harass Elyse. He was going to deal with his brother, as he should have
done in the first place.

Clint returned to the desk, picked up the phone and dialed
Paul's apartment in Sacramento. Although the home in Cameron Park
belonged to their parents, their father and mother used it only as a
stopping off place between winters in Palm Springs and summers at Lake
Tahoe since their father's retirement after a stroke six years ago.
Clint stayed in residence, but sharing a house with his big brother
wasn't part of Paul's free, swinging style.

The phone at the other end rang eight times before Clint
broke the connection. He looked at his watch. Quarter to ten. Paul was
probably out with Elyse. Clint's muscles tightened. Dammit, he was
going to get some straight answers—and soon.

He made his decision: he'd stop in at the law firm in the
morning and confront Paul in person. He'd had enough pussyfooting
around.

Elyse lay on her back in her big old-fashioned four-poster
pineapple bed and tried to relax into sleep. It wasn't going to be any
easier tonight than it had been for the past three nights.

If only she didn't see Clint Edwards every time she closed
her eyes.

It had been three days since they'd quarreled, and she
hadn't seen or heard from him. Not that she expected to. She'd made it
unmistakably clear she wasn't interested in anything he might propose,
so why did her gaze follow every car that went past the house? Why did
her heart speed up every time the doorbell or the telephone rang?

She hardly knew the man, for heaven's sake. He might even
have a wife. He'd denied having children, but that didn't mean he
wasn't married and looking for a little extra action.

She rolled onto her side and punched her pillow into a
more comfortable position. She didn't need Clint to haunt her dreams;
she had enough trouble with Liz. In fact, her sister was getting to be
a real pain. She was obviously miserable, but it was her own fault. She
wouldn't talk to Paul Sterling either on the phone or in person, and
she wouldn't listen when Elyse tried to reason with her. She just kept
spouting nonsense about how totally unsuitable it would be to marry a
man so much younger.

Elyse flipped to her stomach and clutched the pillow in
her arms. Liz should thank God for sending a man like Paul Sterling
into her life. He'd admitted to being something of a hell raiser in
high school and college, but if that was true he seemed to have worked
it out of his system. Oh, he still had a streak of youthful exuberance,
but he was thoughtful and considerate, and he obviously adored Liz.
Elyse didn't doubt Liz felt the same way about Paul, so why was she
being so stubborn?

There were times when she thought her elder sister was a
throwback. Older women married younger men all the time these days, and
nobody thought anything of it.

Elyse just wished she had a man like Paul to love her. No,
that wasn't quite accurate. She wished she had a man like Clint Edwards
to love her. Or at least a man like the man Clint had seemed to be.

She clutched the pillow harder. He'd made her heart race
and her imagination soar. Why did he have to turn out to be a skirt
chaser like all the rest?

Clint arrived at the law offices of Sterling, Fernald and
Highsmith at eight o'clock the next morning, only to find that Paul had
already been there and gone and would be tied up all day in court.
Clint left a message for him to call.

The call came at one o'clock just as Clint was leaving his
office for lunch. "Sorry I missed you this morning," Paul said.

"No problem," Clint answered, "but I do want to talk to
you. When can we get together?"

"I want to talk to you, too." Paul's voice sounded
strained. "Are you free for dinner tonight? I can meet you at the
Lillian Russell Room at Sam's Town around seven-thirty?"

Clint checked his appointment book. "Fine. Will you be
spending the night at the house?"

Sam's Town was a large sprawling restaurant and pioneer
town facsimile along the freeway at Cameron Park, thirty miles from
Paul's apartment in one of the new high-rise buildings in downtown
Sacramento.

There was a pause. "I'm not sure. Tell Alice it's a
possibility."

Alice and Grover Irwin had been housekeeper and
gardener-handyman for the Sterlings for years. They were both past
sixty but continued to live in the apartment above the garage and
pamper both the property and Clint. Alice kept telling Clint they
couldn't retire until he brought home a wife to take care of
him—a prospect that seemed more unlikely every year.

Clint arrived at the restaurant a few minutes late and
found Paul in the bar. The two brothers looked nothing alike. Paul was
a few inches shorter and several pounds lighter, and his hair, which
had been golden as a child, had darkened only slightly over the years.
His wide blue eyes were fringed with long thick dark lashes that
apparently no woman could resist, and he had a perpetual happy-go-lucky
attitude that wasn't always an asset. It was hard to get him to take
anything seriously.

The brothers found a table at the back of the dimly lit
room, which they hoped would afford a little privacy.

After the greetings were over and the waitress had brought
Clint a Scotch and soda and replaced Paul's gin and tonic, Paul opened
the conversation. "Funny you should have stopped by the office to see
me this morning, Clint. I tried to get in touch with you Tuesday, but
Alice said you were in D.C. and she wasn't sure when you'd be back."

Clint was surprised. He and his younger brother lived
totally separate lives, and sometimes weeks went by without their
contacting each other.

"Alice didn't mention it," he said as his gaze settled on
the other man. For the first time he noticed that the usual cocky grin
was gone and the twinkle in Paul's eyes had been replaced by a
bewildered sadness. "I got back last night and tried to call you, but
you weren't home. Is something wrong?"

Paul took a quick swallow of his gin. "Yeah, I guess you
could say that. You see, there's this girl—"

Clint's hands knotted into fists. "Oh, hell, Paul," he
bellowed, "not again!"

Paul looked up, startled. "No, you don't understand. This
girl's different—"

"They always are, aren't they? Right up to the time you
drop them. Then they turn vicious. For God's sake, won't you ever
learn?"

He felt sick. What was Elyse demanding as her price for
not causing a big blowup just six weeks before the primary elections?
Damn, he'd hoped…

"Calm down, will you?" Paul demanded. "I don't want to
drop this one. I'm in love with her. But I asked her to marry me and
she refused."

Clint stared, unable for a moment to understand what he'd
just heard. "She refused?"

Paul nodded miserably. "Yeah, and I don't blame her. I've
behaved like a jerk. Haven't even introduced her to any of my family.
I've bragged about my brother, the senator, and my mother, who owns a
string of pharmacies inherited from her parents, but, well, to tell the
truth, I didn't want you to know about her until I was sure how I felt.
After that last woman I…well, anyway, I'm in love with her.
I proposed to her on Sunday, and she not only said no, she won't even
speak to me now."

Clint was stabbed at the same time by elation and despair.
Paul must have proposed to Elyse when he got home from Monterey on
Sunday evening, after Clint had spent most of the weekend with her.
She'd refused him. Did that mean she'd recognized Clint as Senator
Sterling and decided to go after bigger fish, or was she playing some
sort of game with Paul?

Or was there any possible chance that she really was as
open and honest as she seemed to be and she just wasn't in love with
Paul?

Before Clint could comment Paul continued. "Look, Clint, I
want to ask a favor." Clint opened his mouth, but Paul held up his hand
for silence. "I want you to go to her house with me tonight and let me
introduce you." For a moment his teasing grin was back. "Since Dad and
Mom aren't available, you're the next best thing." Again he was
serious. "She's a stickler for manners. She won't refuse to speak to me
as long as you're there. She's a real lady. I swear you'll like her,
and I need your help to get her to listen."

Clint was appalled. He'd never messed up this badly
before. He usually had tight control of any situation he was involved
in, but this time he'd fumbled right from the minute Mary Elyse Haley
had opened the door and smiled at him. Now what was he going to do? If
he showed up at her house with Paul and told her what he'd been up to,
she'd throw them both out.

On the other hand, if Paul was really serious about her,
then it was more important than ever that he find out just what she was
up to. This was something he was. going to have to face. He might as
well do it and get it over with. He just hoped they'd come out of it
with Paul, at least, still speaking to him.

Clint gulped the rest of his whiskey and nodded. "I'd
heard you were seeing another woman, so this doesn't come as a complete
surprise. In fact, that's what I wanted to talk to you about this
morning." He stood. "Come on, if we're going to see her we might as
well do it now. We can eat later."
If we still have appetites
,
he thought grimly.

Paul stood, also. "Great. I really appreciate this." He
reached into his pocket and pulled out Elyse's pale pink business card.
"She lives in Placerville. Here's the address. It's only a short drive.
You can follow me."

Elyse was on her way downstairs after putting Janey to
bed, when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," she called to Liz, who was
grading test papers at the kitchen table.

She ran down the remaining steps and opened the door, to
find Paul Sterling standing on the porch. It was darker out than she'd
realized, and although she could see another man standing a few feet
behind him, she couldn't tell who it was. "Paul, come on in," she said.
She moved aside to allow him to enter and looked away to switch on the
porch light. "Liz is in the kitchen, but I don't think
she'll—"

She looked up and blinked. The other man was Clint
Edwards! He'd followed Paul in and was standing beside him in the
hallway.

Before she could react Paul said, "Elyse, I'd like you to
meet my brother, Clinton Sterling. Clint, this is Elyse Haley, Liz's
sister." He grinned tentatively at Elyse. "Clint's the family mediator.
I brought him along to meet the woman I intend to marry. Maybe he can
help convince her that I'm all grown up and haven't worn diapers for
years."

Elyse was staring at Clint, but her eyes didn't focus
enough to see him. The man she'd known as Clint Edwards was really
State Senator Clinton Sterling—Paul Sterling's brother!

No wonder he'd looked so familiar. She should have
recognized him. She would have, if he hadn't deliberately deceived her
by giving a false name. Which meant that he'd also lied about his
reason for coming to see her.

It was then that the delayed wave of pain and disillusion
rolled over her.

Clinton Edwards/Sterling wasn't only a senator, he was
also a liar and a first-class bastard.

Elyse made an effort to pull herself together, and her
rapidly developing rage was a big help. So the handsome, charismatic
young senator wasn't above trampling on his constituents' personal
rights to privacy!

But why her? What on earth had she done to merit his
dubious attention?

A thought sent her anger skyrocketing. Clint had no
interest in her. It was Liz he was spying on, using Elyse to do it.
That had to be it, since his only connection with the Haley family was
through his brother.

She didn't acknowledge the introduction but squared her
shoulders and turned to Paul. "Come with me," she said, and started
down the hall toward the kitchen. She was going to stick with them
until she found out what was going on. If Clint Sterling considered Liz
an unsuitable candidate for the sister-in-law of a state senator, then
he was going to get more than he'd bargained for.

Elyse had been gullible enough to think he was special.
She'd unknowingly given him access to the family, but she had no
intention of letting him hurt her sister.

Liz looked up from where she was sitting at the round oak
pedestal table, covered with student papers, as the three of them
walked into the huge old kitchen. She was wearing her dark-framed
reading glasses, and she'd obviously been running her fingers through
her short brown hair while she worked. It stood up in some places and
hung limp in others.

Liz would never be considered beautiful. Like most women
she was sometimes very pretty and at other times quite plain. Elyse
winced as she realized that this was definitely one of Liz's plain
moments. She'd changed from the neat skirt and blouse she'd worn to
school into a comfortable old pair of faded jeans and a sweater she'd
bought years ago. Since then, she'd blossomed, but the sweater had
shrunk, so the resulting fit left little of Liz to the imagination from
the waist up. And the makeup that had been so expertly applied at seven
that morning had faded and melted into an oily sheen.