by Cathie Linz
With a smile that spoke eloquently of Mallory’s reviving spirits, she said, “You’re right. Let’s at least get a good meal out of this disaster.”
After a few moments, Cliff picked up an enormous blueberry muffin and buttered it. “Was it such a disaster for you?”
Mallory cocked her head in a characteristic position he’d seen her assume many times on the nightly news. A surprised note entered her voice. “You know, I don’t think so. Mark obviously didn’t understand me very well.” She paused. “What about Suzanne and you?”
He shrugged. “Same thing.” He put down the muffin and leaned forward, striking his best Henry Higgins pose. “Tell me, Mallory, why can’t a woman be more like a man?”
“What? I don’t know what you mean.”
“This whole thing with Suzanne. I’ve been through it a dozen times. I invite a woman out for a date. We have a pretty good time. Then, sooner or later, I have to work late on the night she wants to go to the opera. Or I can’t take her to some party because I’ve got a court date I have to prepare for.” He leaned back, his point made. “Women always try to trap a man into doing something that jeopardizes his job.”
“Women? What about men? Do you know the number of times I’ve had to cancel a date because of a breaking story, only to have my escort give me hell for not adapting to his schedule? Or how many times men have backed off as soon as they realize that I don’t work a simple nine-to-five shift?” Mallory’s cheeks glowed as she warmed to her theme.
She glared at him, food forgotten, and he glared right back. Dammit, he was just trying to point out...
A laugh surfaced and he relaxed against the back of his chair. “You know what we’re saying? We’re two of a kind, you and I We’re both paying the price.”
Her smile glimmered then faded. “Yeah. Neither of us is any good at relationships I guess.”
“It’s not us, Mallory. It’s just that everyone else has unreasonable expectations. We work long, hard hours. We have to be dedicated to our jobs if we want to get ahead. We’re not the ones with the problem. It’s everyone else.” He took a huge, satisfying bite of his buttered muffin.
She swallowed the last of her strawberries. “So you’re implying that we both have to put personal relationships on hold until after we’re established in our careers. You’re going to make partner within a few years and I’m going to be at one of the networks. Until then, we just have to cool it.”
Cliff frowned. He couldn’t see any flaw in her reasoning, but that didn’t mean he had to like her conclusions. “But I like going out with women. I like being around them. I like dating. I like—”
“Sex?” she asked sweetly. “Are you saying you can’t go without it?”
Pugnaciously, he stuck his chin out. “I happen to like women. So sue me.”
Her smile faded. “It sounds like you just need to have an affair with someone.”
“Like who? I’m telling you, every time I begin to think about getting involved with a woman, she pulls the same old your-work-means-more-to-you-than-I-do crap. I haven’t even made it to first base with anyone in ages.” Suddenly aware that he’d admitted more than he’d intended, he shut his mouth.
Sneaking a peek across the table, he saw a genuine smile flirting along the edge of her mouth.
“Mallory Reissen,” he said accusingly, “if you don’t make it big-time as an interviewer, it’s not for lack of talent. How the hell did you get me to admit so much about my love life?”
“Or lack thereof?” Her smile transformed into a smirk. Definitely.
“Or lack thereof.” Funny, he didn’t even mind her knowing. A suspicion snuck into his head. “And I’ll bet your love life isn’t any more, uh, satisfying, is it?”
Her eyes met his and the smirk faded. “No. Men don’t like to hang around the edges of a woman’s life. They want to be front-and-center all the time. I can’t give them that, so...”
“Front-and-center? That would drive me crazy. I don’t need—or want!—a woman center stage in my life. All I want is an occasional comfortable evening with a woman who understands that my work is very important to me. Is that so much to ask?” He paused, then admitted, “With maybe some really great sex thrown in. Just to keep things interesting, you know?”
She cocked her head again. “If I ever find a man willing to take less than a full-time commitment from me, I’ll be sure to tell you all about it.”
He finished his muffin in silence while she polished off the last of her raspberries. He didn’t really want to wait for years to share intimacy with a woman. He didn’t want to make a major commitment, either, of course. But that didn’t mean he had to live like a monk.
Did it?
Mallory interrupted his morose thoughts. “You know, there’s a solution to all this. We merely have to find partners who understand going in that all we really want is a pleasant, healthy physical relationship. Neither of us wants a family right now. We don’t want someone to cling. We just want someone we can, um...”
“Have sex with on the odd occasion?” he inserted silkily.
She tipped her chin upward. “Yes. That’s exactly what I mean. We just want an affair that’s got some good, clean sex—and there’s nothing ‘odd’ about it. What’s so bad about that?”
He smiled and snagged a lonely slice of papaya off her plate. “Nothing. All you have to do is tell me how we go about finding such amenable partners.”
“Well, we could advertise, I suppose.” She propped her elbow on the table and put her chin in her hand. “Isn’t that the growing thing in the nineties? Going the personal-ad route?”
“That’s dangerous. Especially for you. All kinds of crazies answer those ads, and with you being a public figure and all—it’s just not safe.” He repressed a shudder at the thought of what might happen if some nut found her.
“Well, what do you suggest?”
He considered her question carefully. No doubt about it, they were both in the same pickle. “Maybe we could...help each other out,” he said slowly, feeling his way.
“Help each other? How?”
“Well, you understand women better than I do. And I probably understand men a little better than you. What makes us tick, and all that.”
“So?”
The hint of a plan nudged forward. “Maybe you could help me find a woman who wouldn’t be such a clinging vine. And I’d help you find a man who wouldn’t mind your working late.”
His idea had merit, he decided. It was a good plan. Surely she would be able to tell him which women he could count on to understand his situation. She could make up a list of potential candidates. Then he could talk to them, see them, and decide which one would do. And he could do the same for her. He probably knew half a dozen men who would be pleased to take her out any time she was available.
His plan was perfect. It was simple. It was logical. It was surefire.
“It would never work.” Mallory’s blunt comment punctured his rising spirits.
“Why not? It seems simple enough to me.”
She gestured impatiently. “Because it won’t, that’s all. Women fool other women as easily as they fool men. And with you as the prize...”
His ears almost physically pricked up at that. “What about me as the prize? What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing. That’s the point. Women would crawl all over you—or me—to get into your bed. You’re young. You’re making good money and will be making even more in the future. You’re good-looking. You’re sexy. What’s not to like?”
“You think I’m sexy?” Why had that one phrase stuck in his head? He tried and failed to burst the bubble of attraction that surfaced.
“Of course I do! Who wouldn’t? That’s my whole point.” She brushed a strand of hair back behind her shoulder. He’d always liked the fine golden strands, especially when she wore it down. On most of her television broadcasts, she tamed it into some kind of sleek bun.
“I don’t get it.” Not for the f
irst time, he imagined that smooth blond hair running through his fingers—then shook the thought away. She was his friend, dammit. Not some babe to hit on. “What’s so bad about being sexy?”
“Nothing—except that it makes it all but impossible to figure out who’s sincere and who will decide after the fact that she wants more.”
He considered that point. Yeah, he could understand that women might line up to leap into bed with him. Of course, he hadn’t ever noticed them doing it in the past, but it could happen.
Sure it could.
Of course, the same was true of her. She had the looks—striking cheekbones, translucent skin, great curves. She had a sex appeal that could lure men with a smile. Yeah, his problem in identifying candidates for her wasn’t a matter of coming up with a long enough list of possibilities. Instead, he’d be hard-pressed to prune the list to manageable proportions.
And guys did lie to other guys, too.
He pondered the unexpected complexities of his potential task. The click of Mallory’s champagne goblet meeting the table interrupted his thoughts.
She took a deep breath. “Rather than look for other partners for each other, why don’t you and I have an affair?”
2
ONCE THE WORDS popped out, Mallory wished for nothing more than to pull them back. How had she found the nerve to suggest that she and Cliff have an affair—together! She opened her mouth to deny she’d made the suggestion, but it was too late.
“You mean, you—and me?” he asked.
His words took a bite out of her ego. “You don’t have to sound so astonished. I mean, some people consider me—”
He waved her to silence. “Yes, of course. But I never thought about you and me, uh, like that.”
“If you’re not interested, we could go back to considering your plan.”
“No! I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to. I’m just kind of surprised you suggested it.”
She leaned forward, pushing her plate to one side. “Look, Cliff, we know each other reasonably well.”
“Yes, I guess we do.”
“And what we know, we like.”
“Uh-huh.” His face adopted a definite wary look.
“Neither of us wants ties or commitments right now—we can’t afford them if we’re going to build our careers.”
He nodded with certainty. “That’s for sure.”
“And both of us are prime targets for people who want to latch on to our success. At least, I know I am, and I’d be willing to bet you are too. Right?” She waited for him to challenge her assumption.
“Yes,” he admitted. “Suzanne constantly asked me how much I made, and if I represent any of the Hollywood types that hang around in La Jolla.”
Mallory allowed herself just a trace of satisfaction. “That’s what I thought. The point is, we both know we’re safe from that kind of thing with each other. I don’t need you to advance my career, and you don’t need me.”
“That’s true, too.”
His hand captured hers and a trickle of heat warmed her skin. Startled, she pulled her hand away. This was no time for distractions.
“The key thing is that you want a partner to enjoy an occasional evening with—without having to worry that she’s going to cling and demand too much of your attention. I want the same thing.” She shrugged and smiled. “Sounds to me like we’re made for each other.”
He drummed his fingers against the table. “You’ve got a point. Maybe we are.”
“Best of all, we live next door to each other. We don’t even have to bother with the usual dating stuff. When we want to get together, all we have to do is go next door.”
“Another excellent point.”
Was she making sense? She thought so, but couldn’t be sure. Still, there was one last thing she had to be clear about....
“I just had my physical last month.” She didn’t let the blush searing her neck interfere with her blunt announcement “I’m, uh, perfectly healthy.”
To her relief, he took no offense. “Me, too. Mine was just a couple of weeks ago. And I’m very careful about sex. I always have been.” A boyish grin lightened his serious expression. “Wanna swap medical histories?”
His humor eased her embarrassment. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I trust you.”
He clasped her hand again and this time she didn’t pull away. “That’s what we’re really talking about here, isn’t it? Trusting each other not to make demands neither of us is capable of meeting?”
“Uh-huh.” She rotated her palm so her fingers interlaced with his. “Trust. Respect for each other’s career. And a little old-fashioned sex.”
“Not too old-fashioned, I hope!” His boyish grin was back and she smiled in response.
Still, as they raised their glasses in a mutual toast to their pact, for some odd reason she felt a stab of concern as she looked into his eyes.
What had she done?
She put down her glass and gathered her courage to keep her voice calm and level. “So we’re in agreement?”
“Yes.” His smile was half predatory and half reassuring—and totally seductive. “We’re going to have an affair that’s guaranteed not to interfere with our careers. None of this love-and-happily-ever-after business. Just two people out to have a good time together with no strings.”
“Right.” Why did it sound so cold when he summed it up that way? She certainly hadn’t felt cold when she’d proposed it.
“One thing, Mallory.”
“What’s that?”
The dark, seductive tone had left his voice, making it deep and utterly serious. “If you want out of our agreement at any time, just say so. You don’t even have to give me a reason. Just tell me it’s over and that will end it.”
The gray of his eyes sharpened to silver. It was obvious that this stipulation was very important to him. She didn’t know if he’d been burned with other girlfriends who’d clung too long or if something else triggered it. Either way, he wanted a way out of the relationship.
An escape route.
She didn’t want to agree to his implied request for the same assurance. For some reason she couldn’t quite define, the thought of articulating the easy-out nature of their agreement made her shift uneasily. It made everything seem so...sordid. Her throat closed, and she swallowed hard to clear it. His gaze held hers with its utter sincerity. He didn’t look as if he thought she’d proposed anything unsavory.
Her agreement popped out before she could stop it. “That’s fine. And the same for you. If you want to leave anytime—” her voice caught and she had to swallow hard to continue “—just tell me. No problem.”
What have I done? What have I done?
He visibly relaxed. “Good. Then I guess we really do have an agreement.”
“Should we put it in writing?” she asked, trying to keep the cynical note out of her voice. “After all, you being an attorney and all...”
He cocked his head and tapped his cheek with one finger. “No,” he said slowly. “We’re not contemplating any commingling of funds or assets, so I don’t think it’s necessary.”
He’d actually considered it! How could he!
She almost stabbed him with her fork before she saw a suspicious twinkle in his eye. “You’re teasing me, you rat.”
Suddenly, she felt a lot better about their new arrangement. His humor reminded her that she could have fun with Cliff—and fun was something her life sorely lacked. Fun, sex, companionship—what more did she need?
Nothing, she told herself firmly. I don’t have time for more.
“I was just kidding you a little bit.” He tipped up her chin and gave a wicked grin. “Couldn’t you tell?”
“I can now. And I warn you. You won’t catch me off guard so easily again.”
“No? You sure of that?” His eyes teased her unmercifully.
“I’m sure,” she promised. “But you might want to watch out yourself.”
While their banter continued, Mall
ory realized she was genuinely enjoying herself, more than she could remember doing for years. His teasing-flirting-enticing manner reminded her of exactly why she’d conceived of their plan in the first place.
Surprisingly, she couldn’t wait to find out if the other benefits of their arrangement would be equally enjoyable.
She put her napkin beside her plate and shoved her chair back from the table. Now, with excitement fizzing in her veins like the bubbles in her champagne, she could hardly wait to get him to herself. “Why don’t we leave now? We can go home and...”
But nothing would let her finish that thought with his eyes on her. Eyes that held an unmistakably salacious gleam.
“Good idea,” he drawled. “By all means, let’s go home and...”
YET, DESPITE her earlier eagerness, when they walked out of the restaurant, Mallory’s doubts resurfaced. She would never have believed a five-minute car ride could generate so much tension. Neither she nor Cliff said a word as he expertly backed his gold Lexus sedan out of its parking space, turned onto the street, then almost immediately turned into the condominium parking lot.
During that brief time she envisioned a hundred ways to handle the situation.
My bed or yours? No. Too blunt.
In the mood for a little whoopee? Too dated.
Cliff, you’re very sexy. How about coming over to my place and I’ll show you how much? Too overt.
Wanna get naked? Too raw.
Dozens more comments flitted through her mind, but none appropriate for a woman who had just asked a man to have a sex-only, no-strings affair. Nothing in her life had prepared her for a situation quite like this.
With a start she realized that Cliff had pulled the car into his garage and turned off the engine.
“Having second thoughts?”
She shivered. She’d known the man for three years, so how come his voice suddenly sent goose bumps up and down her spine? From somewhere deep inside her, she dredged up enough courage to meet his eyes. “No. No second thoughts.”