Cross My Heart (7 page)

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 encircle 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.

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."

He extracted some bills and offered them to her, but she
shook her head. "No, that's all right. I'm not very hungry—I
had a late lunch. I'd rather stay with you."

He put his arm around her waist and hugged her to his side
before releasing her. "I'm glad," he said as they headed for the open
staircase in the middle of the room. "I promise we'll have dinner when
this is over."