When Love Calls (25 page)

He nodded. “A very special Kingsley, my first one.”

“This is your first bottle of wine from the first year’s harvest?” He nodded. “Are there others?”

“No.”

“You mean, a whole year’s work and all you got was one bottle of wine?”

“It was a lousy year,” he said, chuckling.

She gave the precious bottle back to him carefully. “Must have been.”

Afterward, she continued touring the cellar until they arrived back at the steps. “That was incredible. I’ve never actually been in a wine cellar before. It was certainly memorable. I don’t think I’ll ever forget this evening.”

“I certainly hope not. But it’s not over yet. Come on, let’s go upstairs and get you out of those wet clothes and warmed up.”

He led her through the large barrels toward the back of the room upstairs into a small office. A potbellied stove had been turned on and the room was already warming up. The room was half office, half apartment, with a desk and sink and file cabinets and refrigerator and, of course, a large, comfortable-looking daybed.

“All the comforts of home, I see,” she said.

“Not quite,” he answered, turning the heater up higher, then going over to the small refrigerator. “What would you like, water, juice, hot tea…”

“Wine, something dark and rich, I think,” she said, standing by the heater now.

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” he said, then left the small room and went downstairs.

Alyssa looked around, smiling. The idea of being here was still so amazing to her. The room was getting warm, so she removed the blanket and used the towel to dry her damp hair. Her nice cotton dress was completely saturated, so she peeled it off and stood in just her lace panties and high-heeled sandals. A wicked smile spread across her face as she licked her lips and grabbed the blanket. Hearing Randolph coming up the steps, she got ready.

As soon as the door opened, he stopped and stood there. “I see you made yourself comfortable,” he finally said while pulling the cork from the bottle and setting the two glasses he brought with him on the desk. He poured the wine, then walked over to the sofa and handed her a glass. She took it, swirled the dark liquid around several times, then put it up to her nose and inhaled deeply. The aroma itself was intoxicating. She sipped, letting the deep, rich, robust flavor ease down her throat.

“How is it?” he asked, sipping from his glass, then setting it down along with the bottle.

“It’s missing something,” she said, standing up and opening the blanket.

He looked down the length of her and smiled. “You’re right, I believe it is.” He took her glass and slowly drizzled burgundy down the front of her naked body. He instantly licked the wine, tasting the tart and sweet mixture as it quickly dripped down her body.

The room started to get even hotter and it had nothing to do with the heat from the potbellied stove blazing in the far corner. Alyssa took the glass, dipped her finger in and offered it to him. He opened his mouth and sucked the liquid from the tip of her finger. She repeated the action, then let the drop of wine touch the side of his neck. It started to run down but she captured it quickly, licking and kissing it away.

She unbuttoned his damp shirt and removed it. Then she unfastened his belt buckle and unzipped his pants, letting them fall to the floor. As he stepped out of them she looked down his body, seeing his readiness. She took the glass from him, smiled wryly, then poured the wine down her body. His mouth was on her instantly and they eased back down onto the daybed. He covered her, and she wrapped her arms tightly around him.

Kissing and stroking, licking and suckling, they intertwined their bodies in a twisted shape like the grapevines all around them. “We don’t have any…” he muttered, breathless.

“Yeah, we do,” she answered, reaching into her dress pocket and grabbing one condom as two others fell to the floor. He smiled at her preparedness.

Their clothes were removed and he protected them. Then in an instant of sensual hunger, he thrust into her and she gasped, joyously feeling the deep penetrating sensation of his hard body inside her. The intensity matched her desire as their bodies surged and thrust in unrestrained passion. Stroking hands probed willingly, as the heat burned inside them. The rapture of the moment swelled, building stronger until an explosion of passion took them over the edge.

They had loved fast and furious with passion and power. Now as they lay resting together side by side in each other’s arms, he gently stroked her back as sleep tempted them.

“I love you,” he said.

She moaned happily, “I love you, too.”

“You know that we have to get ready to leave here,” he said.

“Yeah, I know. Just a while longer, okay?” she said.

He sighed dreamingly, then closed his eyes, relaxed by the simple request. Moments later, his deep restful breathing softened and she knew that he had fallen asleep. The comfort of him sleeping beside her was sheer heaven. She held on tight, vowing never to forget this moment, ever.

Later that night, after a little time had passed, they went back into the house and soon after, they made love again, this time savoring the slow, easy rhythm of each other’s bodies.

The next day Alyssa put aside her worries as Randolph showed her his San Francisco with all its natural beauty and splendor. In just one day, they devoured the magnificent city by the bay. From aquarium and Alcatraz to zinfandels and zoos, they savored the various sights downtown San Francisco and wine country had to offer.

By late afternoon, Randolph told her that they would be meeting with a doctor he had met at a gerontology and geriatrics conference recently. After lunch, they drove to a small research clinic just outside the city and spoke at great length with a doctor and his team of researchers making remarkable strides in controlling and, in a very few cases, reversing the symptoms of dementia, Alzheimer’s and other degenerative mental illnesses.

The tour of his facility was amazing and frightening. An estimated forty percent of the elderly had some type of dementia, and in the next few years, millions of baby boomers would likely join them. With all Alyssa knew about Alzheimer’s and mental health, she realized that it was nothing compared to the research going on at the clinic. Their research on aging was remarkable and their on-site treatment clinic was extremely impressive. But it was the patient housing that really impressed her.

After the tour, they drove back to Napa. Randolph glanced over at Alyssa and was concerned by her demeanor. She’d been exceptionally quiet since they got back in the car. “Are you okay?” he asked, noticing her pensive mood and seeing the sadness in her eyes. “Going to the clinic wasn’t supposed to upset you.”

“It didn’t.”

“But you look so sad.”

“Sad, no. I’m not, really. I guess I’m just a bit introspective about all this. It’s so much to comprehend and I had no idea that there were clinics like that making so much progress. But even so, there’s still so much to learn, and research is still in its infancy when it comes to mental health and brain function.”

“Every day, we learn more and more.”

“Yes, you’re right, and the clinic’s phase-one studies were incredible.” He nodded his agreement. “Thank you,” she added softly, and reached over to hold his hand briefly.

“For what?” he asked.

“For inviting me here, for taking me to the clinic, for not forgetting about me and for not making this just another political promise,” she said.

“Alyssa, the downside is that there’s nothing I can really do. I can’t offer you a cure to make everything all right. I can’t develop a pill to cure your grandmother.”

“I know.”

“My part in this is small. I am sponsoring a bill to include mental-health insurance coverage. I can even get additional funding for medical research specifically for seniors, which I’ve already done, by the way. But for you personally, for your grandmother, I’m just as helpless as you are.”

She nodded. “I’m grateful for what you’ve already done and I appreciate all your time.”

“It’s my job, remember?”

“Not all of it.”

“Yes, all of it. Sometimes my fellow politicians seem to forget that, but there are quite a few of us in Washington that do just that.”

“Well, in case you haven’t heard lately, we, the people of the United States of America, appreciate everything you do.”

They smiled, enjoying the moment.

“So, when do I get to meet the great lady?” Randolph asked, changing the subject completely.

“I guess we should probably talk about that. My grandmother isn’t exactly fond of meeting new people, particularly political people.”

“Oh? Define
isn’t exactly fond of meeting new people, particularly political people.
”

“It’s just her way. It’s not exactly that she hates politicians, it’s more like she doesn’t trust them.”

“I see.”

“It’s nothing personal and it’s not you, it’s all political people.”

“Any particular reason for such contempt?” he asked.

“It’s just old drama that doesn’t mean anything anymore,” she said, trying to avoid the particulars.

“Apparently not if she’s still holding on to it,” he responded.

“She’s old and set in her ways, but she usually comes around eventually. Don’t worry,” she said, then changed the subject to talk about the breathtaking view of the valley.

Randolph nodded. He wasn’t worried. Given a chance, he was sure he’d win her grandmother over. But also he had no intention of letting the conversation rest as Alyssa seemed to want. He sensed that there was a lot more to Allie Granger’s dislike of politicians and he wanted to know what that was. He made a mental note to have Kent run a detailed check just in case.

“So, since I’m flying out tomorrow afternoon, what are we going to do for my last evening here in San Francisco?” Alyssa asked, looking at him.

“First I have a very private megacash fund-raiser to attend hosted by Matthew Gates at his home.”

“Matthew Gates,” she repeated, “as in the Matthew Gates?”

“You’ve heard of him, then?”

“I think everyone in the nonprofit community has. His reputation is legendary. He’s an incredible businessman and an astute philanthropist. Every charitable organization on the planet would love to have him on their board. He need only mention a charitable cause and money begins to flow in like water.”

“He’s a really good man, a good friend and he’s the son of a really great woman, Louise Gates.”

“He’s her son, really? I never made the connection.”

“Anyway, I just happen to need a date for this evening.”

“Wow, where are you gonna find a date this late?” she asked jokingly. He smiled as they both knew that she would be accompanying him. “Is it formal?”

“No, actually it’s a grill-out at his home, very casual.”

“Photographers?” she asked.

“No, very, very private,” he said.

“In that case, I’d love to accompany you.” He nodded and smiled. “Okay, so that’s business. What about later? Any ideas about tonight?”

“I have a few ideas in mind,” he assured her easily, then stopped at a traffic light and looked at her. “That is, of course, if you’re up for it.”

The obvious challenge was too tempting. “I’m up for whatever you have in mind,” she replied seductively.

He turned back to the front and nodded with what looked like a mischievously wicked smile. A chill of added excitement snaked through her. She wasn’t sure what he had in mind or what she would be getting into this evening, but she was sure that there was no other place on earth she wanted to be and no other person she wanted to be with.

Chapter 18

A
fter the most incredibly romantic weekend of her life, the reality of Monday morning hit her like a sledgehammer on fragile glass, shattering her fantasy into a million pieces. She knew that as with most things in life, all good things must end eventually. But for Alyssa and Randolph, their scant perfect weekend was too sparse and their time together was far too meager.

So, now back in D.C. time, as with tides and drama, life continued even as Alyssa and Randolph cocooned themselves in their newfound love. Here, in the real world, the senatorial scandal was all anyone was talking about and it wasn’t even near peaking yet. Unfortunately for them, and particularly her, she returned to be in the center of a brand-new maelstrom.

Monday morning, Alyssa yawned sleepily, feeling the remnants of jet lag since getting into town just a few hours earlier. She’d just gotten dressed and was about to microwave water for tea when the phone rang. It was Nina.

“Hey, there,” she said groggily, but still giddy from her weekend on the West Coast. “I had the most incredible weekend in the world. I can’t wait to tell you about it.”

“Yes, I know,” Nina said.

“What do you mean, yes, you know? You couldn’t possibly know. How could you?” she asked.

“Guess again, everybody knows, girl.”

“What do you mean, everybody knows? Knows what?”

“Please tell me you have a plan,” Nina said anxiously.

“A plan for what? Why would I need a plan?”

“Oh, I don’t know, how about a plan to explain the fact that your photo is on the cover of the
Washington Daily
style section along with Senator Randolph Kingsley?”

“You mean, that photo from last week is back again?” she surmised.

“No, this is a brand-new one, taken yesterday. You and the senator are sitting in an outdoor café.”

“What? No, that’s impossible. I wasn’t even in town on Saturday and neither was he, so there’s no way I could be in this morning’s newspaper.”

“Oh, yes, and not just that, there’s a really interesting headline that reads, and I quote, ‘While D.C. Burns in Scandal, Senator Kingsley Enjoys a San Francisco Break with his New Love, Lobbyist Alyssa Wingate.’”

“What?”

“Oh, and not just that, there’s more, there’s another article today in the political section, questioning the senator’s waning resolve and your pull on him. They think you might be influencing his votes.”

“Me, what? That’s ridiculous.”