Window on Yesterday

It began as a light snowfall sometime before dawn. By 7:00 A.M. it had evolved into a wind-swirled spring blizzard. The snow, wet and heavy, clung to electrical wires, telephone poles, trees, the sides of buildings, and every other exposed surface, inanimate or living.

Seated at a round table in front of a series of beautiful bay windows that overlooked the street, three young women lingered over their morning coffee and contemplated the unexpected storm.

“Who needs snow in March?” Alycia Matlock turned her gaze from the right bay window and raised her brows at the two women with whom she had shared the apartment for almost four years. “Although heavy spring snowstorms are not unprecedented,” she continued in a teasing tone. At twenty-seven, a history major, Alycia seemed at times to live more in the past than in the present. “I really could have muddled through this spring without it,” she sighed.

“Be a lot offender-benders this morning.” The observation came from Karla Janowitz, the more down to earth, pragmatic member of the trio. Seated next to the window, rounded chin propped on her hand, she watched the slipping and sliding progress of the vehicular traffic in the street two stories below the warm apartment.

“I’m tempted to cut classes,” sighed Andrea Trask, the dark-haired dreamer in the group. Leaning over Karla’s shoulder to peer through the window, she shuddered and sighed again.

The sigh was echoed by the young woman seated nearest the window, across the table from Karla. “I’d love to stay home today, but I can’t,” Alycia Matlock murmured, reaching for the coffeepot to refill her cup. “Today’s the last day of registration for Sean Halloran’s lecture series.”

“Why didn’t you register sooner?” Karla muttered impatiently, slanting a frowning glance at Alycia.

“Because I’ve been hard at work on my research paper on the Battle of Brandywine,” Alycia replied mildly, not at all rattled by her friend’s usual impatience.

“It
is
beautiful,” Andrea said absently, referring to the rapidly accumulating snow.

“Hmmm,” Alycia murmured noncommittally. “As long as you don’t have to go out in it.”

‘Talk about beautiful,” Karla interjected, leaning closer to the window. “Feast your gaze on the hunk in the midnight-blue Cadillac.”

Alycia and Andrea craned their necks to get a glimpse of the male behind me wheel of the expensive custom-made car. The fleeting look they got as the car slowly moved forward was of a classic male profile from mid-forehead down. Karla made a soft whistling sound as the big car disappeared around the corner into the busy intersection.

“You don’t see many like that,” Andrea said in a tone of near awe.

“Which is fortunate for the entire female population,” Alycia retorted dryly. “I’d bet his ego is as big as his car,” she added, in a bid to negate the disquieting thrill that had skipped through her at that tiny glance.

“Thus speaks the man hater,” Karla intoned, laughing.

“I don’t really hate men,” Alycia coolly denied, pleased with the steady sound of her voice and her success at disguising her unusual reaction.

Karla turned to give Andrea a droll look. “If she doesn’t really hate men,” she asked, as if Alycia wasn’t sitting directly across from her, “why has she remained as pure as that driven white stuff?” She indicated the whirling snow with a flick of her hand.

Andrea grinned. “Beats me.”

Her appearance unperturbed, Alycia settled against the ladder-back chair. “Seems to me that, for all your talk, you clowns have remained as celibate as I have these past four years.” She gave them an arch look. “Or have I been missing something?”

“It’s certainly possible, since you’ve always got your nose buried in a book,” Karla drawled. “But, at least as far as I’m concerned, no, you haven’t been missing a thing.” She shrugged. “I’ve been much too busy preparing for my future to put up with the demands of an affair.” She offered the floor to Andrea with an idle wave of her hand.

“Who, me?” Andrea widened her eyes innocently, then ruined the effect by grinning broadly. “I haven’t had the time, but”—her grin turned deliberately calculating—”I might have been willing to make the time for a guy with the looks of that one,” she said, indicating the street and the man they’d observed there, with a nod, “big ego and all.”

“Time!” Alycia yelped, glancing at her watch. “I have an early class!” Jumping up, she dashed for the hallway that led to her bedroom at the back of the large apartment. “Are you two going or not?” she called back over her shoulder.

Karla and Andrea glanced at each other. Andrea raised her eyebrows quizzically. Karla shrugged in resignation.

“I suppose,” Andrea answered.

“Might as well,” Karla agreed.

Ten minutes later, swathed in coats, mittens, scarves, and knit caps, the three young women clattered down the narrow stairs to the front door to brave the weather. It was only a five-block walk to the university where they had spent the past four years in different fields of study.

Alycia was fifteen minutes late for her class, but it didn’t matter; three-fourths of the class didn’t show at all. Since the student numbers were greatly reduced, the professor opted for a loose open forum, and the ensuing discussion was lively. Since he was her favorite professor, and the subject one of her favorites, Alycia should have enjoyed the class thoroughly. Yet, oddly, she was continually distracted from the discussion by the disturbing memory of a classic male profile and her own impulsive, astonishing reaction to it.

When the class was over, Alycia bundled up once again to trudge along the walkway to the registration building.

“Hey, Alycia!”

Turning her back to the snow-swirling wind, Alycia raised her chin from the warmth of her broad upturned collar and glanced around. Three young women stood huddled together near the steps leading off campus of the southeastern Pennsylvania university.

“We’re going to the sandwich shop for lunch,” one of them called. “Want to come with us?”

“I can’t.” Alycia had to shout over the sound of the wind. “I want to register for the lectures.”

“Okay, see you later.” One of the women waved a mittened hand.

Alycia returned the wave and then, tucking her chin back into her collar, hurried along the walkway. Head bowed, she had taken less than a dozen steps when she bounded into a solid object, then ricocheted off it into a huge snowbank.

Stunned, Alycia sat waist deep in snow, gasping for air and sputtering in anger. “Of all the—

“I am sorry,” a deep voice interrupted from above her. “But you did charge into me.” A broad, leather-gloved hand was thrust under her nose. “Here, let me help you up.”

Biting back a retort, Alycia sent her gaze tracking up the long arm attached to the hand and across one wide shoulder to a neck swathed in a tartan scarf. A rather intimidating square jaw jutted over the wool folds; above it two well-defined masculine lips curved into a small smile just twitching to stretch into a grin. A slender, longish nose overshadowed his mouth, and glittering rakishly above the bridge of the nose, a pair of startling blue eyes were monitoring her progress. All together, combined with a broad forehead and high cheekbones, the features presented a vision of classic masculine beauty.

“I—ah—thank you.” Breathless and shivering, more from the impact of his bright blue gaze than from the wet cold permeating her body, Alycia placed her mittened hand in his. With the help of a gentle tug she was upright, her forehead level with his firmly etched chin.

“Are you hurt?”

Alycia was shaking her head negatively before he’d finished asking the question. “No, just wet.” Her smile was rueful. “I must apologize,” she continued, tilting her head back to look up into his face. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She gulped as he smiled, revealing strong white teeth. The sheer attractiveness of his smile rattled her senses. “Running into you is like careening into a brick wall,” she said without thinking. “How tall are you, anyway?”

“I’m six-four.” He laughed softly. Her shiver intensified. “But it’s not so much that I’m excessively tall as that you’re so small.”

Small? Alycia blinked. No one had ever called her small. She stood five-six in her stocking feet. Surely her height was average? “I’m not small,” Alycia said frowning.

“If you insist.” His laughter danced along her nerve endings and she shivered again. “But you are cold.” His action peremptory, the stranger encircled her shoulders with one long arm and, turning her around, started them back along the walk in the direction from which she had come.

“Wait a minute!” Alycia yelped. “What do you think you’re doing?” She was already panting from the effort to keep up with his long stride.

“I’m going to get you inside where it’s warm.” He flashed a devastatingly charming grin at her. “And get a warm cup of coffee inside you.”

“No! I don’t have time ...” Her protest was as useless as her attempt to stop his forward motion; he ignored her and merely continued striding along the snow-slick walkway, dragging her along with him.

Alycia was literally gasping for breath by the time he swept her into the small, expensive restaurant located a block and a half off campus and rarely frequented by the student body. “Look, I—” she began between gulping breaths, only to be interrupted by a tall, svelte woman carrying impressive oversize menus.

“Lunch for two, sir?” The attractive hostess smiled with practiced charm, her smile directed at the monster grasping Alycia’s arm.

“Yes, please.”

Alycia stifled a protest as she observed the effect of his deep voice on the hostess. The woman’s eyes flickered and her smile grew positively feline with interest.

“Of course. If you’ll follow me, please.” The woman made a graceful movement with her hand as she turned.

“Now, look—” Alycia sputtered. The hostess ignored her; so did her escort, his arm clasped firmly around her shoulders. He guided her to the hostess who had come to a halt at a corner table alongside a wide window.

“Will this be satisfactory, sir?”

Alycia gritted her teeth at the woman’s purring tone, then was further annoyed when her companion hustled her out of her snow-soaked coat and onto a comfortably padded chair.

“This will be fine,” he replied, plucking the knit cap from Alycia’s head as he sat down next to her. “And could we have two coffees immediately, please?” He glanced up to favor the hostess with a mind-altering smile.

Alycia felt she could actually see the woman melting inside; she knew her own insides were liquefying. Appalled by her immediate reaction to him, she stiffened her spine, deliberately turned away to glance out the window, and slowly began counting to ten.

“At once, sir.” The hostess’s tone oozed willingness. “Here are your menus. I’ll have the busboy bring your coffee. Enjoy your lunch.”

Simmering with anger, Alycia glared at the woman’s back as she walked away.

“If looks were lethal, that unfortunate hostess would probably be taking her final breath.”

Alycia shifted her narrow gaze to her unwanted companion. “If looks were lethal, you’d be sprawled in the ...” Her voice failed at the sight of him. His thick, wavy crop of hair was the shade of russet fall foliage. The overall picture he presented was too much—too attractive, too masculine, too sexy. Stunned speechless, Alycia stared at him in awed appreciation and surprised incredulity. Impossible as it seemed, it appeared her abductor and the classic profile of earlier that morning were one and the same man! And, incredibly, her reactions were exactly the same. An electrifying thrill skittered the length of her spine to explode in a shower of confusion in her stunned mind.

“Hello, is anybody home?” His soft drawl shattered her bemusement. “You were saying I’d be sprawled in the ... what?” Laughter danced in his blue eyes.

“Snow.” Overcompensating for the heat sizzling her senses, Alycia finished in a tone colder than the stuff she referred to. “How dare you rush me away like that?” she demanded, remembering she was angry with him for his thoughtless manipulation.

“I’m very brave?”

Alycia seethed, her annoyance rapidly mounting to fury at the man’s outrageous teasing. Very obviously, the opinion she’d voiced that morning was correct; his ego must be as big as his car. “Brave?” She arched one sable brown eyebrow at him. “Try audacious,” she corrected in a scathing tone. “Try rude, or obnoxious,” she continued icily “But—” Alycia clamped her lips together as the bus-boy came to a halt at the table.