Window on Yesterday (7 page)

Sean? The possibility that it might be him, calling again for whatever reason, had Alycia reversing her running steps to the kitchen. But it wasn’t Sean who replied to her gasped “Hello?” it was Andrea, calling to say that she was having dinner at the home of a friend. Alycia was off and running again an instant after replacing the receiver. She then had five whole undisturbed minutes, during which she stepped into sheer panty hose, camel wool slacks, and dark brown boots. She was pulling a ginger-colored bulky sweater over her head when the phone rang again. Deciding this time she’d ignore it, she glared at the doorway. Several running steps later she tore the receiver from the hook. It wasn’t Sean this time, either. It was Karla, calling to inform Alycia that she was having dinner with the group of friends she’d spent the afternoon with. After replacing the receiver once more, Alycia walked to her bedroom. She regained her breath while carefully applying a light toning makeup to her flushed cheeks. She was attempting to tame the brown shiny mass of her hair when the doorbell rang.

Suddenly breathless again and more than a little unsure, Alycia froze, the brush handle clutched in her hand. The second peal of the bell sent her into motion. The brush clattered to the dresser top as Alycia spun toward the bedroom doorway. The bell rang for the third time as she was disengaging the lock.

Alycia’s long afternoon of self-questioning and doubts vanished when she opened the door and gazed into Sean’s anxious blue eyes.

“Hi.” Though soft, Sean’s tone betrayed a confusing thread of relief.

“Hi.” Alycia could hear the uncertainty in her own voice. “Come on in.” Holding his gaze, she moved back, swinging the door open. “I just have to put on my coat.”

Sean stepped onto the mat inside the door. “I’ll wait here. I don’t want to leave slushy footprints all over the floor.”

His consideration of such a minor thing as a little wet snow touched her in a gentle, warming way. With a flash of memory, she recalled that he’d done the same the previous afternoon, while she had blithely trudged into the room, unmindful of the snow clinging to her boots.

“You sound like a man diligently housebroken by a concerned mother.” She smiled at him over her shoulder as she walked to the hall closet to remove her coat.

“Father,” Sean corrected her. “My mother didn’t hang around long enough to housebreak me. If you’ll bring that coat here,” he went on before she could comment, “I’ll help you into it.”

“Not necessary” she said, slipping into the garment and buttoning it with fingers that shook slightly. Filing his provocative statement about his mother in the back of her mind for later discussion, she looked at him questioningly. “Is it very cold outside? Will I need the scarf, cap, and mittens?”

Observing her intently, Sean was shaking his head negatively before she’d finished speaking. “It’s not bad; the temp’s in the mid-thirties. You might need your mittens, but I think you can leave the other things. Besides, I left the car running so it’ll be warm inside.”

After her self-imposed confinement indoors all day, the chill in the late afternoon air felt refreshing, and it deepened the blusher Alycia had applied to her cheeks. Grasping her arm firmly, Sean assisted her to the Cadillac, which sat purring some two feet from the curb. Alycia carefully negotiated the dirty, tire-rutted snow that had been pushed aside by the municipal plows.

The interior of the car was warm, warm and luxurious, as Alycia had discovered the day before. The seat cradled her body in plush comfort. She felt cosseted, shielded from the wet, cold snow that had been shoveled into high banks along the curb.

As Sean carefully drove the big car into the plowed street, Alycia turned in her seat to look at him. “I had thought all the restaurants would be closed.”

Sean slanted a grin at her but kept his gaze steady on the street. “Most of them are. I know. I must have phoned a dozen of them this afternoon.”

“But then where are we going?” Alycia frowned. “Do you know?”

“Yes, I know.”

Alycia gave a small burst of confused laughter. “Well, are you going to tell me or is it a secret?”

Sean’s hesitation was brief but telling, as was the way his grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Ah—the restaurant in my motel is open; we’re going there.”

“Your motel?” she repeated, disappointment robbing her voice of inflection.

Sean’s wide shoulders rippled with a shrug. ‘The motel where I’m staying,” he explained tersely. “Although several professors kindly offered me their guest rooms, I prefer the privacy of a motel room.”

“I see.” The feeling of disappointment expanding inside her, Alycia smiled faintly and settled into her seat to stare through the windshield. She understood why he’d prefer the privacy of a motel room, she told herself, fighting a confusing sensation of betrayal. In addition to being famous, not only as a historian but as a prolific writer of historical fiction, Sean was an extremely attractive bachelor. Even without the allure of fame, he would very likely have his pick of any number of eager and willing females. Why shouldn’t he take advantage of the opportunities offered? she demanded of herself. A hollow, sick feeling invaded her stomach, telling her that she was losing the inner fight. Sean might well be a free agent, free to pick and choose whomever he wished to share the privacy of his motel room with. But, dammit, why had he chosen her? The answer was obvious, of course. Her response to him the night before had been both very eager and more than willing, if not flat-out wanton! Alycia had to clench her teeth to keep from crying aloud in protest. She was not and never had been wanton, and she would not be just another opportunity for any man!

“No, Alycia, you don’t see at all,” he said tersely. “You only think you do.”

The jagged edge on Sean’s soft tone jolted her out of the misery she was sinking into. Her body felt stiff, her emotions felt frozen. “Indeed?” Her voice was as frost-crusted as the side windows.

“Dammit, Alycia, don’t freeze up on me without giving me a chance to explain!” he exploded, flexing his fingers on the steering wheel after wrenching the big car to a skidding stop at an intersection.

His anger was a crackling, palpable force, pressing against her, demanding her attention. Her own anger flaring, Alycia tilted her chin defiantly as she turned to look at him. “The light has turned green,” she said with an icy composure that masked her inner turmoil.

The last scarlet rays from the setting sun slanted through the windshield, casting Sean’s face in bronze and sparking blue fire from his eyes. The searing glance he sliced at her before setting the car in motion cut through Alycia like a laser.

“You’re wrong, you know,” he said in a flat, controlled tone.

“Wrong?” Alycia studied his beautifully delineated profile, hoping he was right, but very much afraid he wasn’t. “In what way?”

“I did not plan to take you to my motel for dinner in hopes of coaxing you into my bed for dessert.” Steely conviction threaded his harsh tone. “Nor do I consider you an easy”—he halted abruptly, softening his tone before saying—”anything.”

“Thank you.” Alycia’s voice wavered. “I—I was afraid that...” Her voice failed as tears stung her eyes. Blinking in an attempt to contain the flow, she turned away, only then noticing that they were approaching the most expensive and the largest of the motels that dotted the perimeter of the city. “We—we’re here.”

“I know.” Sean was quiet until he’d brought the car to a stop near a high snowbank on the plowed, spacious parking lot. After engaging the brake he shifted around to face her. “Do you want me to take you home?”

Alycia stared straight ahead, but softly said, “No.”

“In that case, do you think you could force yourself to look at me?” The unspoken plea in his voice drew her gaze to his. His eyes were dark, dark blue with emotional intensity. “I won’t lie to you, Alycia. I want to make love with you. I’ve ached all day with wanting to make love with you.”

“Sean!” Alycia gasped, more from the thrill of excitement that zinged through her than in protest of his statement.

“I don’t know why you should feel either surprised or shocked.” His smile was wry with self-derision. “My desire for you was plainly evident last night.”

His words evoked the memory of the taut readiness of his body straining against hers. The sudden warmth suffusing Alycia’s body had absolutely nothing to do with the car heater. The warmth intensified when Sean reached out to glide his fingertips down her cheek.

“So pretty,” he murmured. “You are so breathtakingly pretty when you blush.” His hand drifted to her hair, fingers catching a silky strand absently as he lifted his head to gaze into her still-misty eyes. Alycia blinked. Sean groaned. “If the eyes are truly windows of the soul, you are even more beautiful inside than out.” A fresh surge of tears welled up in Alycia’s eyes, and she blinked again. “Don’t you dare cry,” Sean whispered, tugging on the dark strands between his fingers. “Alycia, I swear to you that I did not bring you here for anything other than dinner and conversation.”

“But you just said ...” she began in a tone made thick by the emotion tightening her throat. Sean silenced her effectively by leaning forward to brush his lips tantalizingly back and forth over hers.

“I know what I said, and I meant every word.” He smiled as he drew his head back with obvious reluctance. He inhaled deeply before repeating, “I do want to make love with you.” Sean shook his head impatiently. “No. ‘Want’ is too simple a word. It doesn’t express the way I feel. I’m not sure any single word can express the way I feel, which is no minor admission from a man who earns his living with words.” His expression revealed an unfamiliar sense of tumult. His brows slowly inched together in a frown. “Compulsion,” he said abruptly, startling Alycia. “This afternoon I felt compelled to call you. I feel a compelling urgency to be with you, joined to you, absorbed by you.” His eyes narrowed. “I’ve never felt this way before about any woman, but there you have it.” His fingers played with her hair; his smile played havoc with her heartbeat.

Staring at him in stunned bemusement, Alycia felt an eerie sensation of inevitability permeate her being. She had a memory flash of the scene at the table that morning, and heard an echo of her own voice faltering as she tried to explain her unusual response to Sean.

I
wanted, needed, to absorb him, become a part of him.

A shiver rippled down her spine. In defining his own confusing feelings, Sean had summed hers up as well. The sensation was not a comfortable one. Alycia didn’t, couldn’t, understand this bewildering compulsion, but she couldn’t deny it, either. It was almost scary. Her eyes betrayed her inner upheaval.

“Oh, darling, don’t look like that,” Sean pleaded, releasing her hair to cup her face within the warmth of his broad palm. Obviously distracted and unaware of his use of the endearment, he misread her responsive quiver and jerked his hand back. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I give you my word: I did not bring you here with the intention of either luring or fast-talking you into my bed. I want you there, I admit that. Hell”—he laughed harshly—”I want you anywhere. But I want you willing, as desperate for me as I am for you.” Moving slowly, as if not to startle her, he backed away, wedging his body between the door and the steering wheel. “I promise you,” he said solemnly, “I won’t apply any pressure, either overt or subtle.” As he finished speaking, Sean held out his hand with an engaging hesitancy that caused an emotional pang in her chest. “Will you have dinner with me, Alycia?” he said. “Please?”

Alycia’s disappointment and resistance dissolved. Though soft, her reply was immediate and unqualified.

“Yes.”

The motel dining room was packed. They were ushered to a table for two at the far side of the room next to a large window.

“I’m glad I had the sense to reserve a table before leaving here to pick you up,” Sean murmured after they were seated in the intimate corner. He swept a casual glance around the room. “The snowstorm certainly hasn’t hurt business here.”

“Did you reserve this particular table?”

“Yes.” Sean smiled. “Why?”

“It’s nice.” Alycia’s gaze drifted to the window and the black and white scene of snow-covered ground beneath a stand of snow-laden trees beyond the frost-rimmed pane.

“You’re nice.”

Alycia’s hair swirled to one side as she swung to look at him. “Why, thank you!” Her voice held a note of surprise, her eyes glowed with pleasure. “You’re nice, too.”

“And the restaurant is nice.”

“Yes.” The surprise in her voice changed to laughter.

“And the view’s nice.”

“Yes.” Alycia laughed openly.

“And I’m talking like an idiot.”

“No!” She set her hair swirling again with a sharp shake of her head. “Never an idiot.” Impulsively reaching across the table, she grasped his hand. “You were deliberately teasing me to ease any leftover strain, weren’t you?” A responsive thrill shot up her arm when he turned his hand and curled his fingers around hers.

Sean’s smile was slow and devastating. “Yes.” He shrugged. “I was afraid you were feeling awkward about what I said in the car.”

Alycia felt the effects of his smile in every one of her pulse points. “I was, just a little,” she admitted, absently lacing her fingers with his and thrilling to the erotic sensation of her skin sliding against his.

“And now?” Sean asked, brushing his fingertips over the back of her hand.

“And now I feel comfortably relaxed and ready for dinner.” Alycia shivered in response to his stroking fingers.

“And the conversation you promised me,” she added in a soft, breathless tone.

“It’s yours.” Sean motioned to a hovering waiter.

* * * *

Though their dinner was delicious, the conversation was the real meat of their meal. They tested the water during the appetizers.

“You’ve... ah, never been married?” Alycia probed delicately in between sips of her soup.

Sean shook his head and popped another of his oysters Rockefeller into his mouth. “How long did your marriage last?” he asked, after devouring the morsel with undisguised relish.