Having Faith (22 page)

"She has a right to be emotional."

"Too emotional? Nothing is accomplished then. Bruce is still trying to talk with her, but she won't listen."

"She will," Faith said with a satisfaction of her own. "He invited her out to dinner. I got her to agree to talk with him then."

Sawyer bobbed a brow in approval.

"Good work, Faith. I knew you could do it. There's nothing like a woman to calm down another woman."

"Excuse me?"

"Women understand each other. They know what it's like to be highly emotional, so they can help each other when it happens."

"Uh... Sawyer... that is a gross over generalization Not all women are emotional. Some never are. And your conclusion isn't even correct. The reason women understand each other is because they have a capacity for understanding and compassion that men just don't have. Laura Leindecker trusts me. That's why I was able to convince her to go to dinner with Bruce."

"And I think it's great. She has to listen to him for a change."

"Sawyer! She's been listening to him for twenty- four years!"

"Maybe she listens, but she sure doesn't hear."

Just as Sawyer was championing his client, so Faith championed hers.

"She hears. And for twenty-four years, she's heeded. Laura has been a quiet, obedient, practically subservient wife. She has swallowed her complaints and made a comfortable life for herself. Suddenly she is betrayed. She doesn't trust Bruce the way she used to. Obedience comes harder now."

"Laura Leindecker is a highly emotional woman. She's making this whole thing far more complicated than it has to be."

"He cheated on her," Faith cried.

"That's what started it all. How does it suddenly become Laura's fault?"

Sawyer sat forward, his eyes dark and intent.

"I didn't say it was her fault. I said that she's complicating things. They might have patched up their differences without ever seeing a lawyer if she'd listened in the first place."

"Listened to what?"

"His explanations for why he had the affair."

"And why was that?"

"Because he was curious. A young, attractive woman came on to him.

He's reached the age where he's flattered. He also knows dozens of men who've had affairs. He wanted to find out if it was so great. "

"That's rubbish. Sawyer! Do you honestly believe him?"

"Yes, I believe him. I don't condone what he did, but I can understand how a man can be driven by curiosity that way."

Faith recalled what he'd told her about the months after his divorce from Joanna.

"You weren't married then. Sawyer. You didn't hurt anyone by giving in to curiosity. Bruce did. He hurt Laura deeply. I'm not sure she can ever recover from that."

"Which is an emotional answer if I've ever heard one," he scoffed.

"Of course, she'll recover. She'll listen to Bruce. He'll tell her that the affair didn't mean a thing, that he only saw the woman six times and" -- "Six times! If it didn't mean a thing, why did he see her six times?

Did it take him six times to satisfy his curiosity, or was it six times before his wife found out? Did he think she wouldn't find out?

If the affair was so meaningless, why in the hell did he leave that note in his coat? " She raised flashing eyes to follow Sawyer, who'd risen and was coming toward her.

"Bruce Leindecker was wrong, Sawyer.

He betrayed a woman who'd done nothing to deserve it. If he thinks she's going to easily forgive and forget, he's crazy. And so are you if you agree with him. "

Curving his hands around the arms of her chair, Sawyer bent at the waist, ducked his head and put his cheek by hers. In a deep voice that gave individual emphasis to each word, he said, "I do not agree with what he did. I think he was wrong in having that affair, and I'd think it even if his wife had deserved it. I believe in fidelity. Faith. I always have."

His message took the wind from her sails. Or maybe it was the deep rumble of his voice. Or the warmth of his cheek. Or his clean male scent. Or the looming presence of his body. But the fight went out of her as quickly as it had come. She grabbed his necktie just below its knot and held on.

When he spoke again, she heard a suspicious smile in his voice, "I do love it when you get emotional." He kissed the tip of her ear.

"It's a definite strength. A man likes it when a woman shows some fire. It means she cares." He dragged his mouth across her cheek.

"I care about all my clients," she argued, but weakly.

"You care about me. That's what this is about."

"It is?"

"Um-hmm." He nibbled on her jaw.

"You want to know that my judgment is sound. You want to be comfortable with the sides I take. You want to be sure that we're playing the game. You don't mind my representing the bad guy as long as I don't buy his cause, particularly in this case. Am I right?"

He was, but she didn't want to say so lest she dislodge his mouth from her lower lip.

"So," he breathed softly, "that's another way I need you in my life.

You're my conscience. Without you, my chauvinism is apt to run away with itself. "

Having had just about enough of his teasing. Faith tugged him down by the tie for a full-fledged kiss. When it was done, she lingered for a minute with her eyes closed and her lips a breath from his. She could stay that way forever, she knew, but if she did that, Sawyer would be onto her in more ways than one. And she had work to do.

Pushing him away the same way she'd pulled him in, she said, "Go. I have a brief to write."

He headed for the door. "Are we on for seven?"

"We're on."

They didn't bring in pizza after all, but imported corned beef sandwiches from the sub-basement deli in their building. By ten. Faith was nearly falling asleep at her desk.

"I can't imagine why," she quipped, yawning.

"You've bored me so that I've done nothing but sleep for the past two nights."

Sawyer laughed and said nothing in his own defense, principally because he intended to keep her awake for part of a third night as well. And she didn't fight him. When they went back to her place and he took her in his arms, she went willingly. She moaned her delight when his mouth refamiliarized itself with her body's nooks and crannies, and when her hunger took a different twist, she even became the aggressor. It was a new role for her. Passion drove her on, but during the brief instances when the newness of it stunned her. Sawyer had ready words of praise and love.

Once she fell asleep that night. Faith was completely out of it. She didn't stir when Sawyer kissed her at dawn, didn't waken when he climbed out of bed and dressed, didn't open an eye when he softly called her name.

He left her a note. It was the first thing she found after she realized she was alone, and it helped in easing her disappointment at finding him gone.

Sweetheart, You were sleeping so soundly that nothing short of a buffalo stampede would wake you. Not having any buffalos on hand, I tried some kissing and touching, but even that didn't work. So I'm off. I have a committee meeting at six tonight that will probably drag on until nine. I'll call you then.

Love, Sawyer.

Faith lay back down and held the note to her breast for another few minutes while she slowly woke up. Then she climbed from bed and got ready for work. Just before she left, she folded the note and tucked it into a pocket of her briefcase.

That was a tactical error.

Each time she opened or closed the briefcase,

which was often on a day filled with appointments outside the office, she stared at the pocket and thought of the note. By late afternoon, she'd taken it out and read it numerous times, had traced the letters of his name with her finger, had even held the folded paper to her cheek as something he'd touched. It was the last time, when she folded the note and tucked it away not in her briefcase but in her bra, that she began to realize the extent of her feelings for Sawyer.

They overwhelmed her. She didn't like that at all, because she felt she was losing control. It wasn't like her to put love letters in her bra, any more than it was like her to wait for the phone to ring, or be disappointed when she woke up alone in bed, or plan her days to free up her nights.

In an appallingly short time, she'd grown dependent on seeing Sawyer.

But she'd never been dependent on a man like that before, and she didn't think it was healthy.

That was why, when Sawyer dialed her number at nine-thirty that night, the phone went unanswered. Thinking she might have run out to do a quick errand, he tried again in fifteen minutes, then in fifteen after that. So he ruled out a quick errand. On the vague chance that she was still working, he tried the office number, but the answering service ruled out her presence there.

He decided that she had to be out with friends, and while one part of him thought that was just fine, the other was furious that she hadn't bothered to tell him. A simple phone call would have done it. If he'd been out of the office, she could have left a message. That would have been the considerate thing to do, since she knew he'd be calling.

By eleven, when there was still no answer, he began to worry. So he tossed on a jacket and jogged along the waterfront until he reached Union Wharf. He rang her bell. When that produced no response, he rang it again. And again.

After the fourth or fifth stab, Faith opened the door. The relief he felt was instant, then instantly forgotten in the face of the decidedly disgruntled expression she wore.

"What do you think you're doing, Sawyer?" she asked. Though her voice was imperious, her appearance was anything but. She wore a white nightgown that went from her throat to her wrists and toes, and a long white terry wrap robe over that. Her face was clear of makeup. Her hair was brushed back behind her ears.

Sawyer thought she looked tired and more than a little vulnerable.

That softened his annoyance, but only a bit.

"I was worried," he barked.

"I've been trying to reach you for two hours. Why aren't you answering your phone?"

"I was out. I just got back."

"Where did you go?" he demanded.

"I was visiting a friend. Not that it matters. Sawyer, I don't have to report to you."

"You knew I'd be calling. I left you a note this morning and told you that. If you weren't going to be here, you could have let me know.

Then I wouldn't have worried. "

Her fingers whitened on the doorknob.

"You shouldn't have worried anyway. I'm a big girl. I've been taking care of myself for a while now. You should have just assumed that I had other plans, instead of assuming I'd be home waiting for your call."

Sawyer put both hands on his hips and glared at her.

"I never assumed you'd be waiting. I assumed you'd be around. I assumed that since it was a work night and you complained about getting no sleep, you'd be tired."

"I am," she declared.

"So thank you for coming over, but you can go home now. I'm going to sleep."

She made to close the door, but a well-placed foot stopped its progress, and he slipped inside.

"Not without me, you're not." He shut the door behind him.

The determination on his face was so strong that she took a step back.

"What do you think you're doing? You can't just barge in here like this!" She lowered her voice to a more controlled tone. "I want you to go home. I want to be alone."

"You don't want that," he said.

"I certainly do."

He shook his head and reached for her, catching her in his arms and holding her there while she protested. , "Let me go, Sawyer."

"Not until you tell me what's bugging you. Was it the note? Was it that I didn't call you during the day? Or stop down to see you? Was it my having to work tonight?"

"No!" She pushed against his chest, but it was an unyielding wall of muscle.

"I don't care whether you work or not!"

"Then it was one of the other things."

Still she squirmed.

"No! You don't have to call me during the day, or stop down to see me. In case you hadn't noticed, I have work to do, too. I have as demanding a career as yours. I don't have time to dally between cases any more than you do. Let me go. Sawyer."

Ignoring her cries, he held her tightly.

"I'd make the time to dally with you if I thought you wanted it," he said in a quieter voice that flowed gently by her hair, "but I've been trying to respect your career. I know how hard you work. I know how much your work means to you. And I know how good you are at it. So I'm trying not to get in the way during the day. That was why I left the note. I figured it would carry over to tonight. I need to see you at night. Faith, and if I can't see you, I need to know why. Why didn't you call if you weren't going to be here?" He took a shuddering breath. "I love you.

Faith. I know you don't want to hear those words, so I've done my best not to say them, but I do love you. Did you think I wouldn't worry when no one answered the phone after so long? "