Cross My Heart (9 page)

Clint frowned. "Ordinarily, I couldn't assure her that
she's wrong. Paul has never been attracted to one girl for long. He
likes playing the field. On the other hand, he's never before asked a
woman to marry him. I don't think he'd do that unless he knew he loved
her and wanted to settle down."

His thumb traced small circles in Elyse's palm. "Liz is
probably wise to be apprehensive. Not because of the age difference,
but because of the difference in their personalities. Maybe she's not
sure she wants to marry an overgrown boy in the hope that he'll
eventually grow up and accept the responsibilities of a man."

Elyse's fingers curled over Clint's adventurous thumb in
an effort to halt the restless message its scrawlings were sending to
the rest of her body. "As Liz said, she's never seen that side of Paul.
Neither of us has. He's always been dependable, attentive and loving
with her. I think it was love at first sight for both of them."

"I hope so," Clint said as he raised her hand to his
mouth. "Liz is the best thing that ever happened to my brother." He
planted tiny kisses on each of her fingers. "And you," he said softly,
"are the sweetest thing that ever happened to me."

He turned her hand over and kissed her palm, then held it
to his cleanly shaven cheek. "Soft warm hands, soft warm lips, I can't
get enough of the touch of either one."

He leaned closer and brushed her lips with his own. His
miniseduction was taking her breath away. She smiled and tenderly
nibbled at his chin, while she brought her other hand up to stroke his
other cheek. He made a growling sound and leaned against her caressing
fingers. "If I don't leave right now," he said unsteadily, "you'll have
to throw me out to get rid of me."

The idea of throwing him out was preposterous, and the
thought of him staying was an intriguing fantasy that stirred desires
Elyse thought had died with Jerry. She knew herself to be a highly
sensuous woman, and Clint was sparking sensations she had kept banked
for five years. She wasn't sure she could control them if they burst
into flame, and Clint Sterling could definitely inflame her.

He didn't give her a vote, but once more brushed his lips
against hers, then pushed his chair back to stand. "Thank you for going
with me tonight," he said, "and for feeding me. A friend of mine gave
me two tickets to the Sacramento Symphony concert for Sunday afternoon.
If you'll go with me I swear on my honor that I'll buy you dinner
afterward. No more excuses or evasions." He paused. "Will there be any
problem getting a baby-sitter for Janey?"

She would have gone with him no matter where he proposed
to take her, and his concern for her daughter touched her deeply. "I'd
love to. Thank you. I'm partial to classical music…even
without the inducement of dinner," she added facetiously. "Baby-sitters
are no problem. Liz has several students who are mature, well trained
and happy to earn the extra money."

He put his arm around her waist and led her up the hall to
the door with him. "The concert starts at three. I'll pick you up at
noon for brunch."

He put both arms around her and cradled her close. "Good
night, angel," he murmured, and captured her mouth with his own. This
time there was no hesitation and no playfulness. It was the kiss of a
man hungry for the woman in his arms and not too sure how much longer
his carefully leashed control would hold.

Stopping the kiss with obvious effort, he turned and
walked out the door, leaving Elyse slumped against the wall, her heart
pounding and her body fully awakened and throbbing.

It wasn't until later, when she was snuggled between the
cool cotton sheets in her antique brass bed, that Reba Ogden's words,
spoken earlier that evening, returned to gnaw at her.
I
suppose you've heard about Dinah
—
Dinah
Jefferson
?

Who was Dinah Jefferson, and where did she fit into
Clint's life?

Clint moved restlessly in his bed. He felt like a teenager
who'd gotten all worked up and then been frustrated when the girl
responsible had said no. Only he was a mature man, and it was his own
fault he was frustrated. He hadn't even asked the question.

He turned onto his other side in the king-size bed and
punched his pillow. If it was anyone else, he'd be tempted to take her
to bed a few times and get her out of his system, but he couldn't do
that with Elyse. She was nothing like the women he usually dated.

Damn. How had he ever allowed himself to get involved with
a woman almost half his age and vulnerable as a child? He had a gut
feeling he could seduce her without half trying, and that knowledge was
driving him crazy. She was so open and guileless about her feelings. If
she'd made an effort to hide the yearning that flared in her expressive
brown eyes when she looked at him, it wasn't working.

Elyse was a walking time bomb. A passionate woman who had
sublimated and denied that passion far too long. He could capture her
with a touch, melt her with a kiss—and if he didn't stop it,
he was going to lose every shred of control and ravage her.

With a shuddering sigh he sat up and swung his legs over
the side of the bed. He ran his hands through his hair, then buried his
face in them. The problem was, he didn't want to stop. He was addicted
not only to the touching and the kissing, but to the husky resonance of
her voice, the fresh clean scent of her fragrance and the unconsciously
seductive way she walked, like a dancer expressing herself through
motion.

She was a powerful temptation, and he wanted her worse
than he'd ever wanted any woman before… except Dinah.

And there was the nerve center of the dilemma. If Dinah
ever came back to him, he wouldn't need Elyse or any other woman.

The concert on Sunday was conducted by Carter Nice and
played in Sacramento's impressive Community Theater. It was the last
performance of the season, and the house was sold out. By the time
Clint found a parking space in the busy downtown area surrounding the
convention center, which housed the theater, the performance was about
to begin.

Their seats were in the orchestra section near the stage
and Elyse was surprised to discover that Senator and Mrs. William Ogden
had the ones next to them.

"Bill, Reba, I didn't know we'd run into you here," Clint
said as he shook hands with the senator and kissed Reba on the cheek.
"I believe you met Elyse the other night at the college."

Bill Ogden took Elyse's hand and Reba nodded. "Yeah, she's
the one who's not your girl," she said with a wink at Elyse.

Clint grinned. "I'm working on it," he said as the lights
dimmed and Carter Nice strode onto the stage. He took his place on the
podium amid appreciative applause, and Clint and Elyse settled into
their thickly cushioned seats. The baton was lowered, and the opening
strains of Beethoven's
Eroica
captured the
audience.

Clint reached for Elyse's hand and held it while the magic
of the music surrounded them. She turned her head to watch him. Even in
the near dark he was a commanding figure. This afternoon he'd worn a
dark suit with a pink shirt and maroon-and-pink-striped tie, and he
looked dashing. His black hair was cut short and curled naturally on
top, and his fair complexion, unusual with raven hair, made his green
eyes seem even more intense.

Elyse had worn her new Easter dress, a softly feminine
turquoise silk that had evoked a low whistle of approval from Clint,
and she had to admit they made an attractive pair.

At intermission the two couples returned to the plush
lobby for champagne, and while Clint and Bill stood in line to be
served, Reba looked at Elyse and raised one eyebrow. "So what are you
translating for Clint this afternoon?" she asked with an impish twinkle
in her blue eyes.

Elyse grinned. "Not a darn thing. I'm just enjoying his
company."

"Good," Reba said. "Then we can forget all that nonsense
about just being friends?"

Elyse's grin receded. "Not really, Reba. Clint's very
sweet and attentive, but he hasn't said his feelings go beyond that."

"You mean he hasn't taken you to bed." It was a flat
statement.

Elyse felt the color rush to her face. "Reba!"

The other woman frowned. "Sorry, I forgot you're little
more than a child…"

"I'm not a child," Elyse replied indignantly. "I'm
twenty-four years old, and I have a four-year-old daughter."

Reba blinked. "A daughter? Then you've been married?"

Elyse wished she'd never brought the subject up, but now
that she had she wasn't going to be evasive. "No. My fiancé died of a
heart attack before I knew I was pregnant."

"Oh, God," Reba sympathized, "that's awful. So it seems
you and Clint have more in common than I thought."

Elyse blinked in confusion. "I beg your pardon."

Reba sighed. "He still hasn't told you about Dinah
Jefferson, has he?"

Dinah again. Elyse decided it was time she found out just
who this mysterious Dinah was. "No, he hasn't," she said, "but I'd
appreciate it greatly if you would."

Before Reba could say anything, Clint and Bill returned
with their drinks, and a few minutes later the lights dimmed and they
made their way back to their seats.

When the concert was over the two couples decided to go to
the Ogdens' house in the exclusive Willhagen area on the eastern
outskirts of Sacramento for drinks, then later they would join Clint
and Elyse for dinner at The Firehouse, a gourmet restaurant in a
restored nineteenth-century firehouse in Old Sacramento.

Elyse was impressed with Reba and Bill's luxurious home
and said so. "Doesn't the governor live in this area?" she asked.

Bill, a tall, prematurely gray-haired man in his late
forties, responded. "Yes, just a few blocks over. Since we no longer
have an official governor's mansion, the governor and his wife bought
out here when they moved to Sacramento. Talk about security! We all
feel safer with the measures that have been taken to protect them." He
walked to the bar in the den, which they had just entered. "Now, what's
everyone drinking?"

Elyse asked for a screwdriver, and when it and Clint's
Scotch on the rocks were poured, Clint led her over to the soft leather
couch that faced the fireplace and sat down beside her. Putting his arm
around her, he turned her gently until her back was against his chest
and his arm circled her waist.

She loved to have him cuddle her like that, but she was
uncomfortable doing it in front of the other couple and stiffened in
protest. His arm tightened around her. "It's all right, honey. The
Ogdens are long-time friends. They won't gossip about us."

He looked at Bill and Reba. "Elyse has a small daughter
and a sister who teaches high school in Placerville, and she doesn't
want publicity."

"Relax, Elyse, you're safe here," Reba said. "We're all
aware of that particular problem." She laughed. "One time shortly after
we were married Bill and I had a humdinger of a quarrel at the race
track during the state fair. I'm afraid we got a little loud and I
stalked off, furious with him over something I can't even remember now.
Well, for the next six months we spent most of our time denying that we
were getting a divorce. If it had been John and Jane Doe nobody would
have paid the slightest attention, but since it was Senator and Mrs.
Ogden the whole state knew about it."

They all laughed, and Elyse leaned her head against
Clint's shoulder and let herself be absorbed in his embrace.

Outwardly he. was cool and circumspect. They were sitting
so close that their thighs pressed naturally together and his hand
rested on her ribs, but since his hand was large and she was small, the
length of his thumb nestled beneath her breast, and all her attention
seemed breathlessly focused on the two points of contact.

If her back hadn't been snuggled against Clint's chest she
wouldn't have known his heartbeat had accelerated and his breathing had
become as irregular as her own. He rubbed his cheek in her mass of
auburn curls and unobtrusively caressed the underside of her throbbing
breast with his thumb. Yet somehow he managed to keep up a lively
conversation with their hosts.

Elyse, on the other hand, kept losing the battle to pay
attention to what was being said. She was too aware of this kindly man
who could so easily crumble all her carefully built defenses. The faint
scent of his cologne and the light tickle of his fresh clean breath on
her cheek heightened her urge to stroke the thigh that rested so
tantalizingly near her own. That fabric that covered it would be soft
and expensive, the flesh and muscle under it strong, hard and restless.

The clang of discordant bells snapped her out of her
reverie, and Bill and Reba looked at each other and laughed. "You get
the door while I get the phone," Reba said, and they both got up and
left the room.

When they were out of sight Clint's hand slid up to cover
Elyse's breast for one greedy moment before he turned her to face him.
"Elyse," he breathed raggedly as his mouth covered hers and his arms
crushed her to him.

Even as he devoured her she could sense his tight control
and the effort it was costing him to hold back. One hand cupped her
waiting breast while the other roamed lovingly over her thigh, but he
made no move to pull up her skirt or reach inside her bodice.

For a moment they strained toward each other, then with a
deep groan, Clint broke off the kiss and looked at her, his eyes glazed
with desire. "We—we'd better slow down," he said unsteadily,
"or I'm not going to be responsible for my behavior."

His confession only kindled the flames she was desperately
trying to bank. Her arms tightened around his neck. "You don't hear me
complaining, do you?" she murmured against his cheek.

He shook his head. "I've never heard you complain about
anything. You're the easiest to please woman I've ever known, and I
love being with you. You make me feel so… so good, so
accepted."