One Night With You (20 page)

She leaned away from him. “My good sense told me that we shouldn't become involved in an affair.”

He suppressed a laugh, because he knew she was not in a mood for jokes. “Good sense doesn't have a lot to do with what goes on between a man and a woman who are attracted to each other. From the moment I first saw you, I knew I had a choice of yielding or leaving town. Leaving town never occurred to me. Look,” he said, settling for what he could get, “let's at least remain the closest of friends. These next two weeks are going to be hard on both of us.”

“I know. Probably harder than you realize.”

Two days later, Reid cleaned out his desk at Marks and Connerly, packed his personal belongings and went to each office to tell his colleagues goodbye. He believed in courtesy, even though, in this case, he thought that some of his fellow architects there would be glad to see him leave.

“I read in the
Maryland Journal
this morning about that plum of a contract you got,” Gene, one of the senior architects, said when they shook hands. “You've got your work cut out, but I don't expect it will stretch you. It must be a great feeling to have your hat in the ring again.”

“It is. But it's been so long since I was stressed out that I probably won't recognize myself after a month or so.”

“Anytime you feel like swearing at the top of your voice, give me a call and we can share a beer instead.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate that, and I'll be in touch.” Among his associates at Marks and Connerly, Gene Faison was the only man, other than Jack Marks, who had welcomed him as a colleague. He was also the most competent.
When you know your stuff,
Reid thought,
you don't envy your competition.
So he'd gotten some press coverage. He hoped that news didn't encourage Brown and Worley to strengthen their hand. When he got home, he phoned his lawyer.

“Dean, this is Reid. Any rumblings from Brown and Worley?”

“They wanted the trial moved back to Baltimore, but you're legally a resident of North Carolina, and they're registered here, so you're entitled to sue here if you want to. Other than that, they've been quiet. I suspect their lawyer won't accept any Native Americans on the jury because of the furor over Albemarle Gates, so we'll probably have a one-sided jury. But if Judge Rutherford will permit me to enter into evidence the architectural examiner's report on her house, that along with the mountain of information you and I collected gives us a very strong case.”

“I think we have a good one, too,” he said, “although if Rutherford is the judge, we can't use Helligman's affidavit.”

“I'm not so sure, Reid.”

Early Sunday morning, he left Queenstown for Alexandria, Virginia, arriving there shortly after nine o'clock. “How's it going, Philip?” he asked his friend.

“Great. How'd you know Claudine and I would get on so well?”

“She's so witty, and she has such a fast mind.”

“Fine, so far as it goes, but by the time I discovered that, I was already a goner. Anyhow, I'm grateful to you. How's Kendra?”

“She's improving, and she plans to be back on the bench Monday. As soon as the trial is over, I hope to get a permanent commitment from her. Man, she's changed my life. I'd better start back. I don't want her fooling around in the kitchen yet. She doesn't move her right arm to suit me.” They embraced each other. “Thanks for the car, Philip. I'll be in touch.”

He drove back to Queenstown without stopping. Kendra thought she was well, and he didn't doubt that, in his absence, she would overextend herself. It surprised him that, as he turned his key in her back door, she opened it, her face blooming in a big smile. She had dressed in pants and a T-shirt that didn't button down the front, but he didn't question her about that. The doctor had cautioned her about raising her arm. He shrugged off his concern, bent and kissed her.

“Mind if I get something cold to drink?” he asked her. “I'm practically dehydrated. I spent exactly thirty minutes in Alexandria. I was in such a rush to get back here and fix your lunch that I didn't even see Claudine.” He headed for the kitchen to get whatever thirst-quenching drink he could find and stopped at the kitchen door. Dumbfounded.

“Woman, what on earth have you done?” He stared at the mess that covered the stove and a part of the floor in front of it. “What were you doing and why couldn't you wait until I got back? It's only a quarter of one. Why does it bother you to be dependent on me? I know this is the twenty-first century and that women are as competent and as efficient at most things as men are, but while you're recovering, you are not.

“I'm not playing at being the superior male, Kendra. I love you. I thought you needed me, and I wanted to take care of you, but—hell! Just look at this mess in the kitchen. Did you scald yourself?”

“No, I didn't,” she said in the voice of one vacillating between regret and anger. “And I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't chew me out. I don't like it.”

“I stand corrected,” he said, but he was damned if he'd apologize.

“You didn't see Claudine? Are she and Philip all right?”

“According to Philip, they are. I forgot where you keep your towels.” She told him. “I want you to get comfortable somewhere while I do this.” He tied the towel around his waist for an apron, cleaned the stove and mopped the floor.

“I suppose you're hungry. Since you're dressed, would you like to go out for lunch? I guess you're tired of the house.”

“I am, and I'd like us to go somewhere for lunch, but not if you're mad at me.”

He grasped her arms and looked into her eyes. “Angry at you? My temper is not so subdued as this. Trust me. I'm disappointed, not angry. I am concerned that you may have retarded your progress. Sweetheart, can't you see that I want to help you and to…to protect you? Oh, hell. If you can't see it, there's no point in telling you. Let's go eat.”

It didn't surprise Kendra that Reid knocked on her back door Monday morning—he had returned her key because she had declared herself well—with a thermos of coffee and a toasted bagel unwrapped in a saucer. “Here,” he said. “I'm not coming in. I just wanted to be sure you got something to eat before you left home.”

She grasped his right forearm, pulled him into the house and kissed his mouth. He put the thermos and the saucer on the floor, wrapped her in his arms and ran his tongue across the seam of her lips.

“Let me in, sweetheart. It's been so long.” She sucked his tongue into her mouth and, at once the fire of desire shot through her. She wanted to drag him to her bed and have her way with him. He stepped back and looked down at her. “Can we be together this evening? I'll be practically a cripple all day.”

“If I'm not too tired for company,” she said, for she refused to make that kind of date with him. He stared down at her for a long minute. “Right. After all, it's your first day back at work. I'll call you at five.”

“All right. What will you do today? I mean, where will you be?”

“I have to find office space, and I'm thinking of locating in Edenton. It's only a thirty-minute drive from here, and there's no architect located there. It's also a much bigger city than Queenstown.”

“How far is it from the location of your projects on the Outer Banks?”

“Same distance as from here, and the driving is easier.”

She traced a finger down the front of his shirt. “I hope you find something suitable. Thanks for the food. See you this evening.” She kissed him again and watched him lope down the lane while she devoured the bagel.

She would have welcomed a better supply of energy when she walked into court. On her first day in that court, she'd had to reprimand the lawyer who was there representing another client. The man liked to pull tricks, and she knew she'd better remain alert. By the end of the last session, tiredness hung over her like an iron yoke.

“You've had it pretty tough your first day back, ma'am,” Carl Running Moon Howard said when he handed her the following day's schedule. “Can I get you anything?”

“Thanks, Carl, but I'm fine. I'm going home and get some rest. See you in the morning.”

She'd barely had time to pull off her shoes when the phone rang. “This is Reid. How'd it go?”

“I had Emerson all day again,” she said. “He's a very incompetent defense attorney, and he has a problem with me. I had to put him in his place the first day I was in that court. So I didn't dare let my attention drift today, and it was a struggle. I'd love to kiss you, but I'd have to keep it light.”

“I'll bring you some supper and get my kiss, but I won't stay very long. Be over in about an hour.”

“Thanks. Call before you leave home, because I'm going to lie down, and if I fall asleep, I might not hear you knock.”

She wondered at his long silence. Then he said, “I wouldn't want to awaken you. If you have food in the house, I'll see you tomorrow.”

“I've got several cans of soup, bread and eggs. I can make a meal of that, but I'd love to kiss you.”

“And I'd love to get a kiss, but I don't think I'd enjoy its aftereffect. Get some rest. See you tomorrow.”

She arrived at the theater in the park an hour early that Thursday night because she hadn't attended the Tuesday night rehearsal and she wanted to familiarize herself with the stage and with Mike's stage directions. What a night, she thought, as the warm breeze brushed her face and stars blanketed the sky. It seemed to her that the moon's brilliance made electric light redundant. She went backstage and spoke with Mike.

“You only have to worry about the second act,” he said. “It's very emotional, real drama and it may exhaust you, because you're not up to snuff. So don't use up too much energy there. You have another act facing you.”

“All right. Thanks for alerting me.”

However, she failed to heed his warning. At the beginning of the second act, Lissa said to Don, “Betty's got a job at the casino, making fistfuls of money. I think I'll try it. She said she can get me in.”

Don got up from his favorite chair, walked over to her and, with his face an inch from hers, said, “No, you are not. There's adequate money for Tonya's education in the trust fund I set up for her the day she was born. I make enough to support my family and save adequately for our retirement. We don't even need the money from your job as an administrative assistant, so why the devil do you need to work at a gambling casino? You don't need fistfuls of money.”

“You're telling me what I can't do? I didn't marry you to get a boss,” Lissa said. “I married you for a husband and a lover, and if I want to be a croupier I'll take the course and apply for the job.”

“Dammit, letting me take care of you is like eating ground glass, isn't it? You had to have your own car, and why? I drive right past the building you work in every morning on my way to work, and pass back by there every evening. You also had to have your own bank account, even though I put your name on mine.”

Lissa jerked away from Don and pranced across the room. “I need my own identity. Left to you, you'll take over my life. A woman needs her own life, her own name and her own authority.”

“Yeah? What the hell does that mean?”

“It means she won't allow herself to be smothered by a man. That's what it means, and if I want to deal blackjack at a casino, you are not going to stop me.”

“We'll see about that. You know I can make you do anything I want you to do.”

Lissa started backing away from Don. “That's what you think. You get nothing here tonight, buddy.”

“Who said so? And don't you call me buddy.” His hand went to her right breast. “If I get my mouth on you, I can be inside you in a minute.”

“It's not true,” she said, and suddenly she forgot that it was Lissa and not Kendra speaking. “You're out of line.”

“Really?” Don said. “It'll give me great pleasure to prove it.” His right hand caressed her other breast. The curtain fell, and the audience rose as one, applauding and yelling, “Bravo!”

“You weren't supposed to do that, man,” Mike said when he rushed to them. “Kendra, I told you not to get carried away in this act.” He threw up his hands. “Go take a bow.”

“You rewrote the script, not to speak of the stage directions,” Mike said after they took a bow. “True, the audience loved it, but this is not a reality show.” He threw up his hands again. “It's a howling success, so what the hell?”

Suddenly, Mike seemed to sober up. “Reid,” he said, “in the next act, please try to remember that Kendra is Judge Kendra Rutherford, and keep your hands off her pretty breasts. I'd hate to see her slap your face and ruin the play.”

“Do you really think that you only have to touch me, and you can do anything to me that you like?” Kendra asked Reid when he took her key to open her back door. “I wouldn't be much of a woman if I was that weak.”