Conflicts of the Heart (15 page)

He drew in a breath, leaned forward, and lifted Dana's chin with his index finger, tracing her jawline, sending shivers up her arm. “You look prettier when you smile.”

She smiled. “Better?”

“Much. Sorry, I don't do dishes.”

“Good. Never could stand a man in my kitchen.” He gave her a thumbs up.

“You go back to your game with Michael. I'll join you when I'm finished.”

“Come on, my boy.” He took Michael's hand and led him into the living room. “It's a mountain you and I shall build, and you will topple.”

Dana gloried in the moment. Finally, she met someone who related to Michael.

After clearing the dishes, she sauntered into the living room and sat on the floor between them. “May I join in?”

“Sure.” Patrick's face brightened. “Pull one from the bottom and put it on top without knocking it down.”

Carefully, she studied each piece of the wooden block tower before slowly removing one from a cranny on the side facing her and placing it on top. Michael clapped and groaned his approval.

Patrick sat for the longest time, studying each piece. He’d told her that he intentionally let Michael win before, but now he must fend for himself. Patrick played to win. She watched him
carefully select his piece, slowly pulling it out. The tower swayed slowly, and then like in slow motion, crumbled into a jumbled pile of wood.

Michael rolled on his back with his feet flailing in the air and laughed as if he knew he had won it on his own. He stopped, let his feet fall to the floor, then sat up and looked Patrick directly in the eye for the first time.

“Dana, Michael's looking right at me.” The boy lunged into Patrick's arms. Patrick patted him on the back, held him for a moment before arching away. Michael continued making eye contact.

A hot, exultant tear trickled down Dana's cheek. Michael withdrew from Patrick's arms and went about organizing the blocks as if nothing had happened.

In her moment of joy, she lost control. All she thought of was this caring man sitting next to her, bringing happiness into her precious son's life. She threw herself into his arms and kissed him full on the mouth. His lips were as soft and warm as she remembered. He responded, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer to him. For the first time in four years, when her marriage had begun falling apart, she felt a warm, satisfied completeness in Patrick's arms. As her mind whirled in the warm comfortable space in his arms, her euphoric bubble suddenly exploded. She straightened. A thrumming of impending doom raced through her. What had she done, succumbing to her emotions?

He raked his hair, grabbed her arm, and said in a voice broken with huskiness, “Dana, we can't do this.”

Embarrassed, she yanked her arm away. She’d forgotten her propriety, letting herself go as she had. “I know. I'm sorry. You'd better leave.” She struggled up from the floor.

“Are you angry?”

“No. I'm not angry.” He acted as if he were, but not at her. “There've been times when I thought coming to Michael was wrong, but he was so responsive. All I could think of was my father lying in bed, unable to reach out and taste the life he loved so much. I think Michael has a chance. He can lead a near-normal life if he gets the right help.” Patrick shook his head in disgust. “My bloody ego got in the way of my better judgment. Who the hell did I think I was?”

“Oh, Patrick.
You’ve helped. Look at him. I'm so grateful to you. I hope what just happened won't keep you away. It'll never happen again.”

He shrugged, speechless. “I'd better go.”

She felt the heat from his hand on her arm, a poor substitute for what she actually wanted.

“It was my fault. I should never have come.”

“Please, don't go.” Suddenly, every fear she had over his being in her life drifted away. Her son made direct eye contact for the first time, with anyone. Patrick’s achievement went far beyond her expectations. This meant Michael had another chance to progress. She was in love with Patrick.

They stood in the center of the room, staring at each other. Her stomach roiled with confusion. It’s not what Patrick had done; it was what she had done. She let him into her life knowing he was going to leave. She set Michael up for another crash, only this one would be a whopper. Michael truly loved Patrick. He related to Patrick more than he did his own father. She saw it in every emotional response he displayed when Patrick was around. He actually reached out, willing
Patrick to be a part of his life.

How could she convince Patrick to stay and give up his dream job? Had she become so selfish? The man had a daughter crying out for him, probably more than Michael was. He wanted to fulfill his father’s dream. She had to let go. She had to make Michael understand
their life had already been cast in stone, and Patrick was just passing through. Then she thought about time, and how she and Michael lived each day for what it was. If she cut the cord with Patrick, she could lose many days of happiness for both she and Michael. Ten minutes at a time, one day at a time. Who knew what the future held? Until she saw an opening and a way to handle this situation, she would not let go.

Michael slipped away quietly. “Wait, Patrick. Please?”

“Okay.”

She hurried to check on Michael. When she got to his room, he climbed into bed.

“Tired,” he said in a sleepy voice.

She tucked him in, kissed him on the forehead, and backed out into the hall.

“He’s so tired.” Patrick sat at the kitchen table finishing his glass of wine. “He hardly made it into bed.” She paused behind him, placed her hands on his shoulders, and rubbed. “I'm glad you stayed.”

“We're insane.”

“I know. Ain't it grand? I thought about saying goodbye for Michael’s sake, but any time he can spend with you is worth whatever lies ahead.” A new peacefulness fell over her. Their being alone together gave her a sense of being complete.

The soft
music played in the background. He reached for her hand on his shoulder, caressed it, lovingly, gently messaging each finger. “I'm crazy about you.” His green eyes locked onto hers. “Each time I see you, I feel closer to you. Do you think we can finish this contract, and maybe, just maybe, work out our careers so we can be together?”

Leaning in, she whispered, “Don't they say true love always finds a way?”

“If that's true, maybe we have a chance.” He rose and pulled her into his arms. “You feel so good.”

His gentle and comforting caress erased every negative thing about their relationship. All she could think of was the warmth of his arms around her.

A brisk breeze drifted in from the patio, bringing with it the scent of honeysuckle. “Doesn't that smell heavenly?” She drew in a deep breath and then exhaled.

With courage from the wine, she pulled away slightly and gazed into his eyes. He had an intensity about him that fascinated her--the way he went after anything he wanted, not allowing anyone to stand in his way, his strength tempered with gentleness and love. All those marvelous attributes she admired in a man. He tapped into her soul without a word or a touch, and she didn't know what to do about it. Each time they met, personally or at work, she drew closer to him.

They slowly separated. She led him to the kitchen table where they sat facing each other. “Your father must have been very special to instill such a dream in you that it can dominate your life.”

“He was.” Patrick took her hands in his. Slowly, he rubbed her palms, sending shivers and heat through her. “I've never missed anyone as much as I've missed my dad.” He spoke the words with tenderness, love, and admiration. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “My succeeding is important to my mother too. My father passed the torch on to me.”

Dana turned his hand over and kissed the little clumps of wispy blond hairs on his fingers between the knuckles. “You don't talk much about your mother.” His hands were strong, yet soft. She wondered what they'd feel like on her bare skin.

“I see her at least once a year. She's back in Wisconsin. She has her friends.” He ran his fingers up Dana's arm, gently kneading her flesh. “We talk every holiday and birthday. She's used to my wanderlust.
Expects me when she sees me.”

Dana fought her overwhelming need to be in his arms. She wasn’t supposed to feel this warm glow standing with him. She should have sent him home when he first suggested it.

“How are you going to settle down in New York with all this wanderlust?” She reached up and touched his chin, moving her fingers across the grain of his five o'clock shadow. Stunned by her own reaction, she jerked her hand away.

“As soon as I feel I've done all I can, I'll put out my feelers and find a new challenge.” He took her hands back and smothered her palms with kisses. “Hmm, tastes like honey.” He reached over, wrapped his hand around her slender neck. “Don't you think it's about time we stop with the small talk and acknowledge what we're both feeling? Come here, you beautiful creature.”

She moved closer, their lips only two inches apart.

“Wouldn't it be nice if I could just up and move to New York?” she whispered. “Everything would be so simple then.” Their lips brushed.
Magic. A softness she’d never felt before. The tips of their tongues touched. She shivered. “If only life were simpler.”

“Then it wouldn't be life.” In one motion, her lips parted to receive his tongue. “Oh, baby, you feel so good. I want you so bad.” He drew back.

“I promised myself that I would never sleep with a man with Michael in the house.” Her eyes filled.

He wiped a tear from her cheek. “I understand. You want to come to my place?”

She chuckled. “And leave my son home alone?”

“Didn’t think of that.”
He smiled self-consciously.

“Wait a minute.” She got up and sneaked into Michael’s room.
She bent down to kiss him on the cheek. He didn’t move. He had already fallen into a deep sleep. Her need to be loved, her desire for this man sucked the guilt right out of her.

Back in the living room, feeling more comfortable that Michael fell asleep and would never know, she took Patrick’s hand and led him to her room, her secret place, all pink and white. A nightlight cast a warm glow over the white comforter. Their oversized shadows danced on the walls. She'd carefully arranged the stuffed animals she’d collected over the years on the bed.

“Nice. A part of me would have been surprised by this bedroom, but it goes with your vulnerability.”

“I can't be the business woman every minute of the day. This is my retreat.”

She sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back on her palms. Were they making a mistake going this far? The future didn’t seem relevant at that moment. She wanted this one night more than anything. Somebody once told her, forever is as long as it lasts.

He sat beside her, nuzzling his head into the crook of her soft, white neck. “You smell good.” Then he ran his hand down her arm and back up again, stopping at her breast. She relaxed, settling into his embrace.

“I've dreamed of this for longer than I'd care to admit,” she said softly into his ear.

“That makes two of us.” He reached around her back and lifted her blouse from her slacks. She raised her arms, and he pulled the blouse over her head. “You okay?”

“Perfect.” She drew back and unbuttoned his shirt to expose a rock-hard chest matted with soft blond hair. She ran her tongue over his nipples, causing them to harden as hers had.

“That feels good.” They fell back onto the bed where she sank into his cushioning embrace.

Deftly, he removed the rest of her clothes, then his own.

“God, I hate to ask this.” She sat up.

He pressed his fingers to her lips. “Don't. I have everything we need.”

He produced a small foil packet. Dana grinned.
“Breaks the mood.”

“Nothing will break the mood.”

Creating a nest among the stuffed animals, he slid her up on the bed. “Now, relax. Leave the rest to me.”

With abandon, she caressed the strong tendons in the back of his neck. “I can't believe this is happening. I guess you and I are weak of the flesh.” She giggled like a little girl.

After a cool brush of his fingers on her skin, his hands roamed intimately over her breasts. Aroused, she drew herself to him, flesh against flesh, man against woman. She wanted this man inside her, connected to her for as many moments as he had to give her. More than she needed anyone, she needed him. Encouraging her to explore, he took her hands and placed them on his thigh. She writhed beneath him. His lips brushed her nipples. They hardened under his moist lips. She was ready.

Her tormented groan was a heady invitation. He prepared himself before gently, slowly, entering her. They moved in a steady rhythm until waves of pure joy pulsed through her. She exploded with fiery sensations that she’d never experienced before.

She pulled him down on her, drawing every inch of him deeper inside her. They were in exquisite harmony with each other.

Spent, draped in each other's arms, they drifted off to sleep.

A loud knock awakened Dana and Patrick at the same moment. Michael cried out from his room. Her plan had backfired. Now Michael would know, someone at the door would know. Her delightful little world came crashing down around her.