Window on Yesterday (2 page)

Impatience tore at her nerves as she watched the young man set an elegantly wrought silver coffee server, a delicate creamer, and two cups on the table.

“You were saying?” the russet-haired charmer asked politely, as he filled their cups with the steaming aromatic brew.

Alycia gritted her teeth. “It doesn’t matter ... and I don’t want lunch or coffee!” It was a blatant lie; she was chilled and longing for a hot drink.

As if he could read her mind, her tormentor smiled and murmured, “Of course you do. Cream?” He held the delicate creamer aloft, revealing perfect teeth as his smile broadened.

Alycia knew she could do one of two things—scream at him or laugh with him. The anger tightening her chest was released with the ripple of laughter that burst from her throat. “Are you altogether mad or just slightly crazy?” she gasped, relaxing against the plush chair.

“Actually, I thought I was being devastatingly charming.”

Alycia was completely undone. “You
are
mad!” she exclaimed, convulsing with laughter she tried to muffle behind the hand she clamped over her mouth.

The man went still, an arrested expression on his handsome face. “You really ought to do that more often,” he murmured in a distracted tone.

Above her concealing hand, Alycia’s deep brown eyes sparkled with laughter-induced tears. “Do what?”

“Laugh.” His blue eyes darkened to sapphire and glittered as brightly as the jewel. Resting one elbow on the table, he reached forward to gently draw her hand away from her lips, “It’s an enchanting sound from a beautiful mouth.” His gaze dropped to her lips, flaring briefly before returning .,. slowly ... to her eyes.

Flattered, bemused, beguiled, Alycia stared into the enticing depths of his eyes and experienced an eerie sensation of being one with infinity. The murmur of background conversation faded, the surroundings blurred. All Alycia knew for endless moments was the thrill of drowning in the depths of his blue eyes.

“Hello.” His low voice defined the word
seduction.

“Hello.” Her murmured response defined the word
willing.

“How about some lunch?” He stroked one long finger down the back of her hand, causing a chill that shot straight to her mind.

Alycia blinked; the moment was over. Warm color suffused her cheeks as she glanced around, disoriented and embarrassed. What in the world had happened to her? she wondered, avoiding his soft gaze. Never before in her adult life had she so completely lost her sense of self and perspective. Not even with ... Alycia shook her head, unwilling to form her ex-husband’s name, even silently. Her fractured attention was captured by the shiver-inducing sound of her companion’s voice.

“The waiter is waiting to take our order.”

“Oh!” Alycia turned to the black-jacketed man standing by the table, staring at her strangely. “I—ah—I...” She lowered her gaze to the oversize menu. The elegantly handwritten words blurred and she frowned.

“May I order for you?” His voice had deepened into a tone more suitable to a bedroom than to a restaurant.

Alycia shifted her gaze to his, and immediately wished she hadn’t. A light in those blue depths told her he recognized, and appreciated her confusion. Who was this man? she asked herself, even as she replied to him. “Yes, please.”

Nibbling on the tip of her thumbnail, Alycia didn’t hear whatever it was he ordered for them to eat. A tiny frown line drew her eyebrows together as she reached the decision that it was long past time for introductions. The instant the waiter walked away, she withdrew her left hand from his caging fingers and, extending her right hand, gave substance to her decision.

“I’m Alycia Matlock,” she said firmly. “And you are ... ?”

“Very delighted to meet you,” he replied seriously. “I am Sean Halloran”—he grinned—”your most obedient servant.”

The use of the old-fashioned complimentary close, used by letter writers of ages past, would have sounded ludicrous uttered by any other person—but Sean Halloran! Alycia’s entire nervous system went into spasm. She had hurtled into the very man whose upcoming lectures had her in such a lather!

“You ...” Alycia had to pause to wet her suddenly parched lips. “You’re
the
Sean Halloran?” she asked in a whispered croak.

“Alive and in color,” Sean confessed.

“But you can’t be!” Alycia protested, frowning fiercely.

Sean’s eyebrows shot into an arch. “No? Damn!” His grin wreaked havoc with her equilibrium. “I could have sworn that’s who I was when I faced the beast in the mirror this morning.”

A wild rosy glow tinted Alycia’s cheeks. “No—I’m sorry. I mean—” She hesitated to collect her breath, and her common sense, then ruined her effort by blurting out, “You’re too young to be a famous historian!” Her flush deepened and she shook her head in despair. She was prattling on like an awed teenager, not responding at all like the rather reserved twenty-seven-year-old she really was.

Alycia paused to inhale. When she continued, her tone was even, calm. “I am sorry, but you see”—she gestured vaguely with one slender hand—”I had assumed that Sean Halloran was a much older man.”

Sean’s broad hand captured hers again, holding it still. “Let me assure you,” he said, very softly, “that at this moment, Sean Halloran is greatly relieved to be thirty-six” Slowly, tantalizingly, he stroked the tip of one finger over the fine gold chain encircling her wrist above her pulse.

The feather touch of his warm skin against hers, and the tingling friction of the chain against her pulse, robbed Alycia of what few wits she still possessed. Her breathing growing alarmingly shallow, she lowered her gaze to his caressing finger, “Mr.”—she swallowed roughly—”Mr. Halloran, I...”

“Sean,” he filled in when her voice failed. “Please call me Sean—Alycia?” One russet eyebrow peaked.

The mere idea that Sean Halloran was asking for permission to address her informally stunned Alycia. Unable to articulate her feelings, she nodded and produced a wobbly smile, amazed at her lack of poise. It was not at all Alycia’s style to be tongue-tied, wide-eyed, and impressed by a celebrity. But this was Sean Halloran, the historian Alycia admired above all others!

“I was—I was rushing to—ah—register for your lectures when I—umm—ran into you!” she blurted out, aware that she was babbling, yet helpless to halt her waggling tongue. “That’s why I was so angry at you for dragging me here.”

“Dragging?” Sean challenged sardonically.

Feeling gauche, Alycia flushed and lowered her long lashes. “I’m sorry, I...”

His warm laughter flowed over her words, and over her embarrassment, like balm. “Please don’t apologize. On consideration, I suppose I did drag you along.”

“I’m glad you did.” Raising her eyes, Alycia stared directly into his. “It really is a pleasure to meet you, Mr.”—she hesitated when he frowned—”Sean,” she finished softly.

“And it’s a delight to meet you”—he paused deliberately—”Alycia.” The corners of his lips tilted into a whimsical smile. “I love your name. It’s charmingly modern and old-fashioned at the same time.”

Alycia had heard more elaborate compliments, yet never had she heard one that thrilled her more. “Thank you.” She felt the response inadequate, but couldn’t think of another thing to say, which in itself was surprising, as Alycia was by nature gregarious and a good conversationalist. But, confounding her even more, she was finding herself mute while seated less than two feet from the one person in the world she had dreamed about someday meeting and conversing with.

But who would have dreamed that the lionized Sean Halloran was a thirty-six-year-old hunk? Alycia defended herself, covering her confusion by concentrating on her coffee. If she had ever envisioned the noted historian, it was as an older, reserved gentleman, of the ivory tower variety. Sipping her cooling coffee, Alycia decided that if Sean ever found himself in a tower of any type, he would very likely seduce some lovely lady into sharing it with him. Amused by the thought, Alycia hid a smile behind her cup—at least she thought she hid it.

Sean’s blue gaze pierced hers and he arched one russet brow. “Why are you smiling?”

The threat of torture wouldn’t have induced Alycia into confessing her thoughts. Fortunately, she was saved from raking her mind for an answer by the arrival of the waiter delivering their lunch. And what a lunch! Her eyes growing wide in anticipation, Alycia watched as the waiter placed cups of soup, bowls of salad, and plates of sandwiches on the table. She contained her outburst until the waiter departed.

“What in the world!” she gasped the moment the waiter walked away. “Who’s going to eat all this food?”

A grin twitching his sensuous mouth, Sean glanced casually around the table. “How many of us are there?”

Exasperated, Alycia forgot he was the famous historian and remembered he was merely a man. “For heaven’s sake! I usually have a small slice of pizza and a diet soda for lunch. I’ll never be able to eat all of this!” With a flick of her hand, she indicated the assortment of dishes in front of her.

“You can give it the old college try.” Sean laughed. “Pardon the pun.” Dipping his spoon into his soup, he proceeded to concentrate on the meal and ignore her.

Alycia glared at his fantastic profile for a full thirty seconds before she picked up her spoon and shifted her attention to her soup. The steam rising from the white broth tickled her nose and her appetite. New England clam chowder! Alycia sighed and dug in; she had no choice. New England clam chowder was her favorite. The chowder was delicious. The spinach salad was equally as good. Eating the sandwich was beyond her capabilities. As she pushed the plate away and placed her napkin on the table, Sean angled a questioning look at her.

“I absolutely cannot eat another bite,” she declared firmly, expecting an argument. There was none forthcoming.

“If you’re not going to eat it, do you mind if I do?” Sean asked blandly.

Startled, Alycia shook her head and slid the sandwich plate toward him. “I don’t mind at all but—where are you going to put it?”

Sean’s soft laughter danced in her head with a lot more allure than any number of sugarplums. Then he bit into the sandwich and the sight of his strong white teeth sinking into the rare roast beef nestled between thick slices of whole wheat bread sent a tingle dancing along her spine and nerve endings. Suddenly breathless and unreasonably warm, Alycia shifted her gaze to the window framing a scene of cold winter white. Her ploy worked, too well.

As Alycia stared at the steadily worsening weather, a sinking sensation invaded her stomach. Driving would obviously be horrendous, and if the snow continued to fall much longer, the road conditions would not improve a whole lot by the time spring break began at the end of the week. Alycia had made her plans for the spring break soon after the Christmas holidays. Now, in mid-March, she could see her anticipated plans being blanketed by a foot of heavy snow. Disappointment was tugging her lips down when Sean’s quiet voice shattered her reverie.

“More coffee?”

“Why not?” Alycia sighed. “It doesn’t look as if I’ll be going anywhere.”

“I beg your pardon?” The frown curled around his tone drew her gaze from the window. “Where were you hoping to go?” Before she could gather her wits enough to reply, he added, “I’m sure classes will be canceled for the rest of the day, if not the rest of the week.”

Alycia felt embarrassed again, this time by her display of self-pity. “Oh, don’t mind me,” she said, annoyed by her own impatience. “I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”

Sean looked thoroughly confused. “Ah, you lost me somewhere. I think it was around the point where I asked what you had hoped to do today.”

“Not today,” she corrected wryly. “During the spring break.”

His expression went blank. “That clears everything up.”

Alycia laughed. “I’m sorry; of course it doesn’t.” Her laughter faded on another sigh. “I made plans for spring break that will require quite a bit of driving, and unless this blasted snow ends soon, I shudder to think what the roads will be like.”

Enlightened, Sean smiled at her—somewhat condescendingly, Alycia thought. “Taking off for fun and sun to frolic at some beach somewhere for the traditional spring spree, are you?” he asked in a tone that injected a stream of steel into Alycia’s spine.

“No,” she said in an acid-sweet tone. “I had planned to take off for Williamsburg, Virginia.”

“Williamsburg!” Sean exclaimed. “Please don’t tell me that’s the latest
in
place for the wild-eyed college crowd letting off the end-of-winter steam!”

Alycia fought against a smile, and lost the battle. The historian in Sean was patently appalled at the mere idea of the historic site being overrun by college students, kicking up their heels in sheer relief after long winter months of cracking the books. She answered him by way of a question.

“Does that seem at all likely to you?”

Sean exhaled an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Thank the mercies for small favors.” His russet eyebrows inched up. “Then why are you going?”

Alycia smiled politely. “Because I want to.”

Sean smiled back at her, a genuine smile that gave his eyes a soft glow. “Excellent reason,” he commended her. “Have you been there before?”

“Yes, several times,” Alycia answered. “I love it.”

“So do I.” Sean’s expression grew pensive. “It’s strange, but every time I go there, I have the oddest feeling of homecoming.”

Alycia was astounded; her surprise was revealed in her voice. “So do I!” she exclaimed. “It’s almost as if I belong there more than any other place in the world.”

“And I,” Sean murmured. “I’ve assumed it was because I’ve always been intensely interested in the Revolutionary period of American history. A lot of pre-Revolutionary activity occurred right there.”

“How strange “ Alycia laughed. “I’ve always felt exactly the same way.”

Sean’s entire face lit up. “You’re hooked on the American Revolution?”

“Why do you suppose I was so angry at you for dragging me away before I could register for your lectures?” she retorted.

Sean made an impatient, brushing movement with his hand, nearly tipping over a glass of water in the process. “Don’t worry about that,” he said, adroitly but absent-mindedly steadying the glass, “I’ll take care of your registration.”