Cross My Heart (10 page)

She put her hands on either side of his head and examined
his face. His expression was strained with suppressed passion, but his
long straight nose, perfectly shaped mouth and high broad forehead were
the features of a man with great strength and commitment.

She moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue and
felt his fingers knead the soft flesh of her buttocks. "You have the
most compelling eyes," she said. "They're like… like green
fire that singes with a single glance. That's what you do to me. I
can't believe you've ever been rejected."

She saw the leap of pain in the fire of those eyes before
he closed his lids and buried his face in her shoulder.

A wave of despair swept over her as she held him close.
"Oh, God, Clint, I'm sorry. I forgot…"

She had indeed forgotten until that moment his earlier
confession that he had once loved a woman who'd left him.

Was that woman Dinah Jefferson?

"Excuse me. Would you two like to spend some time alone?"
Clint and Elyse jumped as one at the sound of Bill Ogden's amused voice.

"Hell, man, you might at least whistle or something,"
Clint grumbled good-naturedly as he straightened but kept a tight grip
on Elyse.

"You wouldn't have heard me if I'd set off firecrackers,"
Bill continued happily. "How about a cold shower? Guaranteed to cool
you off—"

He was interrupted by Reba's husky voice behind him.
"Knock it off, love, or I'll see that you spend some time under that
cold shower just to keep you from getting overconfident." She winked at
Elyse, who by now was red with embarrassment.

Bill chuckled as he turned and put his arm around his
stunningly beautiful wife. "Ah, my darling, life with you is anything
but predictable, but I think we'd better divert these two until it's
time to leave for dinner. Come on out to the garage with me, Clint. I
want to show you the 1957 T-Bird I added to my collection of classic
cars last week."

"Gee, thanks, pal," Clint retorted with a sarcastic grin
as he reluctantly tore himself away from Elyse and stood. "Just what I
was hoping you'd suggest." He leaned down and kissed her flaming face.
"Excuse me while I humor this idiot."

The two men ambled out of the room, and Reba grinned as
she sat down on the couch with Elyse. "Sorry if Bill embarrassed you,"
she said. "He loves to tease. He's also happy to have something to
tease Clint about. It's been far too long since Clint's shown enough
interest in any one woman to be ragged about it." Her grin disappeared.
"I hope you're serious about him, Elyse. If you're just stringing him
along and intend to dump him later, I'm warning you. You'll have both
Bill and me to contend with."

The menacing look Reba shot at her convinced Elyse that
the other woman would be a dangerous adversary, but the knowledge was
comforting rather than upsetting. These people cared enough about Clint
to want to protect him from hurt. Elyse felt the same way.

"I'm not sure getting serious about Clint Sterling is
wise," she said slowly. "He told me once he'd been in love with a woman
who left him, and you've mentioned someone named Dinah several times.
Are they by any chance the same person? And if so, why on earth did she
walk out on him? She'll never find another man as kind and sweet and
loving—"

"You're absolutely right," Reba interrupted with a sly
chuckle. "Sounds like you belong on our team. He's all that and more,
and Dinah was very much aware of it. To answer your first question,
yes, Dinah Jefferson is the woman he loved, but the second question
takes some explaining."

Reba reached for the drink she'd abandoned on the coffee
table when she'd left to answer the phone, and sipped it. "Clint met
Dinah when she went to work for one of the other senators as an
administrative assistant. She, too, came from a family of politicians,
only they lived back East somewhere."

"Clint was about thirty-two at the time and had recently
been appointed to the Senate to serve out the term of his father,
Senator Burton Sterling, who had resigned after suffering a disabling
stroke. Clint was ready to settle down with a wife to raise a family,
and he fell hard for Dinah."

Those last words rocked Elyse, even though she'd known
they were coming. It was selfish, but she didn't like the idea of
Clint's being deeply in love with any other woman.

"It's no wonder," Reba continued. "She was gorgeous. One
of those tall, cool blondes with a body that fulfills every man's
fantasy."

"You mean she looked a lot like you?"

Reba grinned and saluted Elyse with her raised glass.
"Flattery will get you absolutely
anything
," she
said, "but while I never managed to achieve that look of quiet
elegance, Dinah was born with it. She was a lady all the way to her
fingertips, and Clint was mesmerized. He couldn't have found a woman
more perfectly suited to him if he'd had her hand-tailored. She was the
consummate politician's wife. In fact, that's what she'd been until her
husband was killed."

Elyse gasped. "She was married!"

"Not at the time she met Clint. She was a widow. Her
husband had been an assemblyman in—Maryland, I think it was.
Anyway, he was assassinated by a redneck with a gun who didn't like the
way he'd voted on a bill."

"Oh, my God!" Elyse whispered, her horror reverberating in
her tone. "How awful."

"Yes, it was." There was no levity in Reba now. "It's a
terror all wives of public figures live with, and it never gets easier.
I don't know how deeply it affected Dinah—she never talked
about it—but her very silence on the subject would seem to
indicate unresolved emotional stress. She was wild about Clint, though.
No one ever doubted that."

"Then why did she leave him? If she loved him why didn't
she marry him? I assume he asked her."

"Oh, yes, he asked her, and she even agreed to an
engagement, but a couple of months later she packed up and left." Reba
sighed, and pushed her silky hair back. "I can't give you any more
details because I don't know them. Clint never discusses what happened.
But I do know one thing. It damn near destroyed him."

Elyse closed her eyes as the pain rolled over her. Dear,
sweet, considerate Clint. How could any woman do a thing like that to
him? And why? It just didn't make sense. If Dinah loved him, how could
she have wounded him so deeply?

Elyse sighed and settled back into the soft brown leather
seat of Clint's car, watching the lit overhead signs appear and
disappear as the car moved swiftly along Highway 50, headed for home.

It had been a wonderful day. Not only the concert, the
company and the food, but just being with Clint had been stimulant
enough to give her a natural high that promised to last indefinitely.

And Clint wasn't immune to her, either. Although there'd
been no more embracing after he and Bill had come back from the garage,
the magnetism that crackled between Elyse and him made it impossible
not to touch. They'd held hands in the back seat of Bill's car on the
way to the restaurant, under the table during dinner and again in the
car on the way back to the Ogdens' home.

Now Clint glanced at her and murmured, "Tired?"

"No," she said softly. "Just happy."

He reached over and took her hand, then lifted it to his
lips. "I hope you're as happy as I am," he said as he placed tiny
kisses on her tingling palm. "You, my darling, are the perfect date.
Beautiful, intelligent, charming and attentive. All the nice things you
say make me feel about ten feet tall."

"I only say what I mean," she said.

He moved her hand down to rest on his thigh, then covered
it with his own. She felt his muscles tighten under her palm, and she
stroked her fingers lightly over the crisp wool of his trouser leg. He
tensed even more, but squeezed her hand in encouragement.

She knew what she was inviting, and she knew she should
stop, but when she made a tentative effort to slide her hand from
beneath his he applied pressure to keep it there, and she couldn't
refuse him. She didn't even want to. It had been so long since she'd
experienced the dizzy excitement of arousal—and she'd never
felt it so intensely.

Without speaking, Clint removed his hand from hers and
gently caressed her thigh. Her leg twitched as a rush of quivering
sensations collided in the most intimate recesses of her womanhood.
She bit her lip to stifle a gasp, but couldn't keep her fingers from
digging into his powerful flesh beneath her hand.

The car swerved slightly, and Clint groaned and removed
his hand to grab the steering wheel. "I'm afraid," he said in a voice
that was gravelly with frustration, "I need to keep my hands on the
wheel and my attention on my driving, or I may run the car right off
the road."

Elyse bowed her head. "I'm sorry," she muttered,
embarrassed, and clutched both her hands in her lap.

"Sorry? Oh, please don't be sorry," Clint said. He reached
for her hand again and once more put it on his leg. "Leave it there,"
he cautioned as she started to remove it. "I want you to touch me. I
need your touch, Elyse. More than you can possibly know."

Again she couldn't bring herself to disappoint him, and
her hand stayed firmly where he wanted it as she brushed her cheek
against his arm. She was being unwise—there was no doubt
about it. But she'd learned five years ago that nothing could be
counted on to last forever. Why not be happy while she could and let
the future take care of itself?

They drove for a while in silence, and as they approached
the turnoff to Cameron Park, where Clint lived, it seemed to Elyse that
he slowed down, as if debating the advisability of taking her to his
house. If so, he decided against it, because he sped up just before
they reached the exit and drove on toward Elyse's home in Placerville.

After a mile or two he spoke. "Did you enjoy the concert?"

She smiled at the memory. "Oh, yes, very much. I often
watch the Symphony on television, but this is the first live concert
I've heard. It was marvelous. The music just seemed to envelop me, and
I got goose bumps every time the man at the timpani rolled those drums."

Clint chuckled. "I know what you mean. How about dinner?
Did you get enough to eat?"

She moaned and rubbed her stomach. "Did I! I may never
need to eat again. This is the first time I've been to The Firehouse,
but it won't be the last. The food was delicious. I could almost cut
the prime rib with my fork."

He leaned over and kissed the top of her head where it lay
against his arm. "If you were that impressed we'll do it again."

Elyse resisted the desire to stroke his leg, but let her
hand rest lovingly against it. "I like your friends the Ogdens," she
said dreamily. "Have you known them long?"

"I've known Bill ever since he was first elected to the
Senate sixteen years ago. My dad was a senior senator then, and he sort
of took Bill under his wing. Ten years later when I was appointed to
fill out Dad's unexpired term, Bill did the same for me. I was best man
when he married Reba five years ago."

Elyse was surprised. "Oh, they haven't been married long,
then."

Clint turned off the freeway and into Placerville as he
spoke. "Bill was married before and has two college-age daughters, but
they live in Texas with their mother and her second husband. Reba was
an actress doing television commercials in Los Angeles when Bill met
her."

The car pulled into the driveway of the Haley home, and
Clint turned off the motor and the lights, then reached for Elyse and
took her in his arms. "Damn these bucket seats," he grumbled as his
arms tightened around her waist in a vain effort to draw her closer.

She grinned as she silently cursed them, too. "I think
they were designed as the modern-day chastity belt," she said, putting
her arms around his neck. "There have been times when I've been
grateful for them, but this isn't one of them."

His mouth closed over hers, and her response was
immediate. This was what she'd been longing for all evening: his arms,
strong and protective; his lips, firm, warm and ardent, and his scent,
musky and masculine.

She ran her fingers through his clean ebony hair, and one
of his hands moved up to fondle her breast, which was pressed against
his chest. She tipped her head slightly to the side, and he nibbled at
her lips in a series of short, intense kisses that had her clutching at
his hair and straining to get closer.

It was Clint who finally ended the sweet torment, and he
did it almost harshly. "Elyse!" The word was a cross between a moan and
a cry as he pushed her away and turned from her to open the car door.
"I'll walk you to the porch," he said as he got out of the car.

Landing off balance in her seat, Elyse sat watching him as
he stood with his back to her for at least a minute before moving
around to her side. She was glad for the delay. She, too, needed time
to rouse herself from the daze his lovemaking had induced.

Why had he stopped? He must have known she'd have let him
do anything he wanted to with her. Good Lord, what had happened to her
celebrated self-control? Wasn't it the woman who was supposed to set
the limits, stop things before they got out of hand? She flushed with
shame. What must Clint think of her?

When he finally opened her door she scrambled out of the
car without taking his helping hand. She took a series of deep breaths
as they walked in the cool night air, and her senses calmed down a
little.

When they got to the bottom of the steps she remembered
the baby-sitter. She turned to Clint and spoke in a voice that
faltered. "Um… would you mind taking the baby-sitter home?
It's on your way. If I do it I'll have to wake Janey and take her with
me."

His tone was once more friendly and gentle. "Of course
I'll take her home. I don't want you and Janey driving around alone at
night."