Cross My Heart (8 page)

There were three state senators sitting at the table in
the front of the comfortably filled room. Each senator had a bill
pending in the legislature and was there to discuss it. Elyse had known
from news reports that there was a gun-control bill up for
consideration, but she hadn't realized that her senator, Clint
Sterling, had written it.

Gun control was a highly controversial subject, and
although Clint repeatedly stated the legislation was aimed at handguns,
the so-called Saturday night specials, and wouldn't interfere with the
hunters or antique gun collectors, the questions and comments became
loud and threatening and finally had to be cut off so the last speaker
could make his presentation.

Clint handled himself with politeness and poise, but Elyse
was shaken. This wasn't just polite haggling, and a couple of the men
had gotten ugly. Was Clint in actual physical danger? There were a lot
of crazies running around loose. The thought struck something akin to
terror in her.

Afterward refreshments were served in another room, and
soft music was played on a portable stereo. The senator from the Bay
area was alone, but the one from Sacramento was accompanied by his
wife, a pretty woman in her early thirties.

At first Clint kept Elyse by his side, but he was so
besieged by people wanting to talk to him that eventually she wandered
away and he didn't seem to notice. She stopped by the refreshment
table, placed a few hors d'oeuvres on a small plate and found a corner
where she could watch without being obvious.

She was joined a short time later by the wife of the
senator from Sacramento, a tall willowy blonde named Reba Ogden, with
the bearing of a model and an instinct for survival in the political
jungle.

"You look lonely and a little frightened," Reba said with
a sympathetic smile. "Is this your first date with a politician running
for office?"

Elyse returned the smile nervously. "Is it that obvious?"

"Only to a seasoned veteran like me. Clint's a nice guy.
Have you known him long?"

Elyse was a political innocent. All she knew about state
politics was what she occasionally read in the headlines or saw in a
quick news story on television. She hadn't even recognized Clint, and
he represented her district, so she was uneasy about answering
questions about her association with him. One thing she did know, and
that was that simple statements could be twisted all out of proportion.

"Only a couple of weeks," she answered, being deliberately
vague. "We're not dating. He's a… um… friend of
the family."

"Oh, then you're a volunteer?"

Elyse hadn't the faintest idea what Reba was talking
about. "Volunteer?"

The other woman laughed. "No, I can see you're not," she
said dryly. "I was talking about a campaign volunteer. People who help
out during elections."

Elyse felt the warm flush of embarrassment. "Oh, I guess
you can see how naive I am," she said in a small voice. "I'm not even
interested in politics. I'd be way out of my element in Clint's life."

Reba eyed her warily. "In that case you'd better stop
looking at him with your heart in those big beautiful eyes, or
everyone's going to know how you feel about him."

There was kindness in her tone, but her words scorched
Elyse with humiliation, and in an involuntary reflex she squeezed her
eyes shut and put her hand to her mouth. "I… I don't know
what you mean… I wasn't…"

She felt the older woman touch her arm. "Hey, I didn't
mean to upset you. Oh, God, you're even younger than I thought. Come
on, let's get out of here. I'm sorry. I only meant to warn you." She
took Elyse's arm and hurried her toward the door.

They found a comfortable lounge in the area at the top of
the stairway, and Elyse dropped down on the sofa, her face still
flaming with embarrassment.

Reba sat beside her. "Look," she said, "I'm really sorry.
I'm used to senators' wives and girlfriends who are veterans of the
wars, so to speak. I didn't realize you were so sensitive. If you're
going to be seen with Clinton Sterling you'll have to toughen up a
little."

Reba's no-nonsense but caring tone calmed Elyse a little,
and she took a deep breath and tried to relax. "I'm not going to be
seen with Clint, Mrs. Ogden—"

"Reba," the other insisted.

"All right, Reba. Clint really is just a friend. You see,
his brother and my sister are dating, but there's nothing between Clint
and me. He just brought me tonight be-cause he figured I was the right
age to translate in case he didn't understand the current college
slang."

Reba grunted. "I'm sorry to hear that. Clint needs a woman
of his own, preferably a wife. I suppose you've heard about Dinah."

Elyse blinked. "Dinah?"

"Dinah Jefferson… Oh, damn! Me and my big
mouth." Reba held up her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Never mind.
We'd better be getting back. Those men of ours will be wondering what
happened to us."

"Clint's not…"

"
Your man
." Reba finished the
sentence for her. "So you've said, but methinks the lady doth protest
too much. Clint may be a tad shy when it comes to marriage vows, but
he's not a monk, so don't tell me he thinks of you as a little sister.
He may be reticent, but he's not blind."

They returned to the rapidly clearing room, and Clint
excused himself from the cluster of students around him and hurried
toward them. "So you're the one who stole my girl," he said to Reba as
he tucked Elyse's hand in the crook of his arm. "I was afraid she'd run
off with one of these lecherous male students."

The warmth from his touch wafted all the way up her arm as
Reba laughed. "She's just spent the past twenty minutes trying to
convince me she's not your girl."

Clint looked down at Elyse, and there was amusement in his
green eyes. "In that case I'll have to think of a way to convince her."

"Do that," Reba said, then turned away to join her husband.

Clint glanced at the refreshment table. "Did you get
something to eat?"

"Uh-hum," she said. "Did you?"

"No. We'll stop somewhere on the way home and have
dinner." He glanced at his watch and frowned. "I hope it's not too
late."

Elyse had a thought. "If an omelet, hash browns and
muffins is enough for you, I could fix them at home."

He looked pleased. "Are you sure you don't mind?"

"Actually, I'd prefer it. We've been surrounded by people
all evening. I'd like to have you alone for a change."

The words were hardly out before she blushed a deep red.

Clint's eyes darkened with pleasure, and he pressed her
arm against his side. "Keep talking like that," he murmured huskily,
"and I'm going to kiss you right here in front of all these people."

Their gazes held, and she knew her heart was once more in
her eyes for him to see. She looked down, and in doing so inadvertently
brushed her cheek against his sleeve.

"Come on," he said raggedly, "let's go."

Without saying goodbye to anybody he turned and guided her
out of the room.

The lobby of the main floor was brightly lit, as was the
parking lot. Clint walked Elyse to her elderly Ford Mustang and saw her
safely inside. "Drive carefully," he said through the open window.
"I'll be right behind you."

Traffic on the freeway was light, and it took less than
forty-five minutes to get to Placerville. Elyse drove her car into the
driveway, leaving Clint to park at the curb, then met him at the front
porch. She handed him the key, and he unlocked the door and pushed it
open.

The hallway was dark, but a light shone from the family
room at the end. Clint shut the door and took Elyse into his arms. "I've been wanting to do this ever
since you walked into the student union building," he whispered huskily
as his face lowered to hers.

He covered her mouth with his, and her palms slid up his
arms and shoulders before linking around his neck. His arms tightened
around her, and the tip of his tongue slowly outlined her lips until
they parted slightly. But instead of pursuing his advantage, he placed
tiny kisses at either side of her mouth, then trailed more down the
side of her throat, lingering just above her white collar.

Elyse shivered, and her fingers stroked through his thick
black hair as she tilted her head to give him easier access. The
darkness that surrounded them offered an intimate privacy and she
melted against him, willing him to continue the sweet seduction with
his mouth, his hands, which caressed the small of her back and his long
hard body, which fit so hungrily against hers.

"There were times tonight," he murmured as he lifted his
head and rubbed his face in her hair, "when I'd gladly have given up my
seat in the Senate to be a private citizen again—to be able
to kiss my lovely lady in the middle of a crowded room without having
to worry about exposing her to unpleasant gossip. I didn't even dare
hold your hand, and my fingers itched to touch you."

His soft-spoken words left her giddy with happiness.
"Really?" she asked, a touch of wonder in her tone.

"You mean you didn't feel it?" He sounded disappointed.
"It seemed to me we were generating enough electricity to set off
sparks."

"Oh, I felt it," she hastened to reassure him, "but I
didn't know if you did. You seemed so comfortable and at ease. I was
afraid it was one-sided."

He kissed the top of her head. "Well, now you know better,
don't you?"

She tipped her face up to him. "Yes, and I'm awfully glad."

He groaned and hugged her closer. "Oh, God, sweetheart,
you're such a temptation. I think we'd better go fix those omelets
before we get sidetracked any further."

Just then Liz's voice called from the family room. "Elyse,
is that you?"

Simultaneously the light went on in the hall and Liz
appeared in the doorway. Elyse tried to pull away from Clint, but he
held her fast.

"Oh, sorry," Liz said, and turned away.

"That's okay," Clint called after her. "We need a
chaperon. Stay and have a bite to eat with us."

Elyse cooked the omelet, Clint fried the hash browns and
Liz baked the muffins, while Elyse and Clint told Liz about their
evening at the college.

"I knew gun control was a controversial subject, but I
hadn't realized it was quite so explosive," Elyse said, and again felt
the quiver of fear that had attacked her earlier. "The cords actually
stood out on that one man's neck he was so mad—and his
language…" She left that to Liz's imagination.

Clint reached over and took Elyse's hand. "I'm sorry. I
shouldn't have invited you along. I forgot that you aren't used to that
sort of thing."

She squeezed his fingers. "Oh, no, I'm glad you took me,
but are you sure you're safe? A couple of those men seemed pretty
violent."

She saw Clint and Liz exchange a look before he answered.
"People like that are mostly talk. They blow off a lot of steam, and
you can be sure they're not going to vote for me, but they're
relatively harmless."

The qualifying "mostly" and "relatively" were noted by
Elyse, but she didn't pursue the subject. She didn't want Clint
thinking of her as Liz's little sister who had to be protected from
life's harsher realities.

Clint adroitly changed the subject. "How's the teaching
going, Liz? I imagine most of the students are afflicted with spring
fever."

Liz made a face. "Aren't they always? It lasts all year
long, but from now to the end of the term I'll be lucky if they just
study enough to pass their exams."

Clint chuckled. "How true. Do you like teaching?"

"I love it," Liz said. "I think I was born to be a
teacher. It's such a challenge, and so rewarding when I can get a
student excited about learning. I've had young people who started high
school as marginal students and graduated four years later in the top
ten percent of their class." She shook her head. "Obviously I can't
take all the credit for that, but somewhere along the line they were
touched with a thirst for knowledge. It's exhilarating to think I had a
small part in it."

"I'm sure your part was a large one," Clint said. "I only
wish Paul had gotten a teacher like you. He thinks studying's a waste
of time. Thank God he's exceptionally bright, or he'd never have gotten
through law school. I'm not sure he's ever going to settle down and
pass the bar."

A look of indignation crossed Liz's face. "Paul is much
more serious than you give him credit for, Senator. He's been studying
hard for that exam. I've been helping him when I can, and he's making a
lot of progress."

Clint's eyes widened with surprise. "I didn't know that.
We don't see a lot of each other, but up until a few months ago he
wasn't doing much of anything but goofing off. If he's studying now,
then it's got to be your good influence."

Liz blushed. "I've never known him as anything but a
responsible adult. He told me about the woman he'd been seeing who
caused such a furor when they broke up. He's really been trying to do
the right thing since then. Give him a little credit, Clint. He's so
anxious to please you."

"I'll be happy to," Clint answered, "just as soon as he
shows me he's earned it." His expression softened. "You're a special
lady, Liz, just as he said you were. I hope he can convince you to
marry him."

Liz's earlier blush deepened. "He can't," she said curtly,
and pushed back her chair. "If you'll excuse me, I have an early parent
conference in the morning, so I'm going to bed."

Clint stood. "Liz—" he began, but she was
already out of the room. "Damn." he muttered as he sat down again. "I
didn't mean to upset her."

"It's not that," Elyse assured him as he once more took
her hand. "This is something she'll have to work out for herself. She
loves Paul very much, but she has this deep-seated prejudice about
marrying a man so much younger. She's convinced he's merely infatuated
with the novelty of dating an older woman and that before long a
younger one will come along and capture his fancy."