by Joan Hohl
Sean’s broad hand captured hers again, holding it still. “Let me assure you,” he said, very softly, “that at this moment, Sean Halloran is greatly relieved to be thirty-six” Slowly, tantalizingly, he stroked the tip of one finger over the fine gold chain encircling her wrist above her pulse.
The feather touch of his warm skin against hers, and the tingling friction of the chain against her pulse, robbed Alycia of what few wits she still possessed. Her breathing growing alarmingly shallow, she lowered her gaze to his caressing finger, “Mr.”—she swallowed roughly—”Mr. Halloran, I...”
“Sean,” he filled in when her voice failed. “Please call me Sean—Alycia?” One russet eyebrow peaked.
The mere idea that Sean Halloran was asking for permission to address her informally stunned Alycia. Unable to articulate her feelings, she nodded and produced a wobbly smile, amazed at her lack of poise. It was not at all Alycia’s style to be tongue-tied, wide-eyed, and impressed by a celebrity. But this was Sean Halloran, the historian Alycia admired above all others!
“I was—I was rushing to—ah—register for your lectures when I—umm—ran into you!” she blurted out, aware that she was babbling, yet helpless to halt her waggling tongue. “That’s why I was so angry at you for dragging me here.”
“Dragging?” Sean challenged sardonically.
Feeling gauche, Alycia flushed and lowered her long lashes. “I’m sorry, I...”
His warm laughter flowed over her words, and over her embarrassment, like balm. “Please don’t apologize. On consideration, I suppose I did drag you along.”
“I’m glad you did.” Raising her eyes, Alycia stared directly into his. “It really is a pleasure to meet you, Mr.”—she hesitated when he frowned—”Sean,” she finished softly.
“And it’s a delight to meet you”—he paused deliberately—”Alycia.” The corners of his lips tilted into a whimsical smile. “I love your name. It’s charmingly modern and old-fashioned at the same time.”
Alycia had heard more elaborate compliments, yet never had she heard one that thrilled her more. “Thank you.” She felt the response inadequate, but couldn’t think of another thing to say, which in itself was surprising, as Alycia was by nature gregarious and a good conversationalist. But, confounding her even more, she was finding herself mute while seated less than two feet from the one person in the world she had dreamed about someday meeting and conversing with.
But who would have dreamed that the lionized Sean Halloran was a thirty-six-year-old hunk? Alycia defended herself, covering her confusion by concentrating on her coffee. If she had ever envisioned the noted historian, it was as an older, reserved gentleman, of the ivory tower variety. Sipping her cooling coffee, Alycia decided that if Sean ever found himself in a tower of any type, he would very likely seduce some lovely lady into sharing it with him. Amused by the thought, Alycia hid a smile behind her cup—at least she thought she hid it.
Sean’s blue gaze pierced hers and he arched one russet brow. “Why are you smiling?”
The threat of torture wouldn’t have induced Alycia into confessing her thoughts. Fortunately, she was saved from raking her mind for an answer by the arrival of the waiter delivering their lunch. And what a lunch! Her eyes growing wide in anticipation, Alycia watched as the waiter placed cups of soup, bowls of salad, and plates of sandwiches on the table. She contained her outburst until the waiter departed.
“What in the world!” she gasped the moment the waiter walked away. “Who’s going to eat all this food?”
A grin twitching his sensuous mouth, Sean glanced casually around the table. “How many of us are there?”
Exasperated, Alycia forgot he was the famous historian and remembered he was merely a man. “For heaven’s sake! I usually have a small slice of pizza and a diet soda for lunch. I’ll never be able to eat all of this!” With a flick of her hand, she indicated the assortment of dishes in front of her.
“You can give it the old college try.” Sean laughed. “Pardon the pun.” Dipping his spoon into his soup, he proceeded to concentrate on the meal and ignore her.
Alycia glared at his fantastic profile for a full thirty seconds before she picked up her spoon and shifted her attention to her soup. The steam rising from the white broth tickled her nose and her appetite. New England clam chowder! Alycia sighed and dug in; she had no choice. New England clam chowder was her favorite. The chowder was delicious. The spinach salad was equally as good. Eating the sandwich was beyond her capabilities. As she pushed the plate away and placed her napkin on the table, Sean angled a questioning look at her.
“I absolutely cannot eat another bite,” she declared firmly, expecting an argument. There was none forthcoming.
“If you’re not going to eat it, do you mind if I do?” Sean asked blandly.
Startled, Alycia shook her head and slid the sandwich plate toward him. “I don’t mind at all but—where are you going to put it?”
Sean’s soft laughter danced in her head with a lot more allure than any number of sugarplums. Then he bit into the sandwich and the sight of his strong white teeth sinking into the rare roast beef nestled between thick slices of whole wheat bread sent a tingle dancing along her spine and nerve endings. Suddenly breathless and unreasonably warm, Alycia shifted her gaze to the window framing a scene of cold winter white. Her ploy worked, too well.
As Alycia stared at the steadily worsening weather, a sinking sensation invaded her stomach. Driving would obviously be horrendous, and if the snow continued to fall much longer, the road conditions would not improve a whole lot by the time spring break began at the end of the week. Alycia had made her plans for the spring break soon after the Christmas holidays. Now, in mid-March, she could see her anticipated plans being blanketed by a foot of heavy snow. Disappointment was tugging her lips down when Sean’s quiet voice shattered her reverie.
“More coffee?”
“Why not?” Alycia sighed. “It doesn’t look as if I’ll be going anywhere.”
“I beg your pardon?” The frown curled around his tone drew her gaze from the window. “Where were you hoping to go?” Before she could gather her wits enough to reply, he added, “I’m sure classes will be canceled for the rest of the day, if not the rest of the week.”
Alycia felt embarrassed again, this time by her display of self-pity. “Oh, don’t mind me,” she said, annoyed by her own impatience. “I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”
Sean looked thoroughly confused. “Ah, you lost me somewhere. I think it was around the point where I asked what you had hoped to do today.”
“Not today,” she corrected wryly. “During the spring break.”
His expression went blank. “That clears everything up.”
Alycia laughed. “I’m sorry; of course it doesn’t.” Her laughter faded on another sigh. “I made plans for spring break that will require quite a bit of driving, and unless this blasted snow ends soon, I shudder to think what the roads will be like.”
Enlightened, Sean smiled at her—somewhat condescendingly, Alycia thought. “Taking off for fun and sun to frolic at some beach somewhere for the traditional spring spree, are you?” he asked in a tone that injected a stream of steel into Alycia’s spine.
“No,” she said in an acid-sweet tone. “I had planned to take off for Williamsburg, Virginia.”
“Williamsburg!” Sean exclaimed. “Please don’t tell me that’s the latest in place for the wild-eyed college crowd letting off the end-of-winter steam!”
Alycia fought against a smile, and lost the battle. The historian in Sean was patently appalled at the mere idea of the historic site being overrun by college students, kicking up their heels in sheer relief after long winter months of cracking the books. She answered him by way of a question.
“Does that seem at all likely to you?”
Sean exhaled an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Thank the mercies for small favors.” His russet eyebrows inched up. “Then why are you going?”
Alycia smiled politely. “Because I want to.”
Sean smiled back at her, a genuine smile that gave his eyes a soft glow. “Excellent reason,” he commended her. “Have you been there before?”
“Yes, several times,” Alycia answered. “I love it.”
“So do I.” Sean’s expression grew pensive. “It’s strange, but every time I go there, I have the oddest feeling of homecoming.”
Alycia was astounded; her surprise was revealed in her voice. “So do I!” she exclaimed. “It’s almost as if I belong there more than any other place in the world.”
“And I,” Sean murmured. “I’ve assumed it was because I’ve always been intensely interested in the Revolutionary period of American history. A lot of pre-Revolutionary activity occurred right there.”
“How strange “ Alycia laughed. “I’ve always felt exactly the same way.”
Sean’s entire face lit up. “You’re hooked on the American Revolution?”
“Why do you suppose I was so angry at you for dragging me away before I could register for your lectures?” she retorted.
Sean made an impatient, brushing movement with his hand, nearly tipping over a glass of water in the process. “Don’t worry about that,” he said, adroitly but absent-mindedly steadying the glass, “I’ll take care of your registration.”
“You’d better! I mean, it’s the least you could do!” Alycia exclaimed, smiling to soften the order. She stole a glance at her watch. “Registration ended exactly twenty-two minutes ago.” She raised her eyes to glower at him. “At the risk of inflating your ego, I must admit that I’ll be one very annoyed woman if I’m denied entrance to the lecture hall.”
A suspicious-looking smile curved his lips. “You won’t be, I can assure you of that.”
Alycia narrowed her eyes, wondering what he was concocting in his brilliant but apparently devious mind. Should the hall be full to capacity, she wouldn’t put it past him to seat her in a folding chair right next to his lectern! Contrarily amused and appalled by that possibility, yet somehow certain Sean Halloran would do it—if not to please her, then merely to indulge his own flair for dramatic impact—Alycia decided she needed a more definitive answer.
“How?” she asked skeptically.
Sean laughed outright. “Oh, come on, Alycia, surely you’re not as naive as all that?” He tilted his head arrogantly. “I’ll simply inform the powers that be that I want a seat reserved in the front row for a very special guest” The teasing glint in his eyes was so at variance with his haughty tone that Alycia had little option but to give in to the laughter tickling her throat.
Sean’s expression changed instantly. His blue eyes darkened noticeably. Moving impatiently, he glanced around the room, as if wishing they were anywhere but in a public restaurant. Observing him closely, Alycia was amazed at the realization that she also wished them in some more private setting.
But only to talk, Alycia was quick to assure herself, feeling oddly excited and uneasy at once. The man was an expert on the subject that interested her most. It was only natural that she should want to spend time with him—for an exchange of views and ideas, of course.
Sure.
Alycia refused to acknowledge the tiny voice that taunted from the edge of her mind. Giving herself an inward shake, she focused her attention on the sound of Sean’s low-pitched voice, wondering what he was saying—and when he’d begun saying it.
“... But the series of lectures won’t begin until after spring break, and I want to talk to you now,” he went on intently. “Have dinner with me, Alycia.”
“This evening?” Alycia asked, glancing at the snow beyond the window.
“Of course, this evening. You’ll be leaving for Williamsburg this weekend, won’t you?”
“Yes, but the weather ... I mean, by this evening the roads will be a mess!”
Sean shrugged. “They were already a mess this morning.”
“But...” she attempted to protest again; Sean refused to listen.
“But nothing.” His smile was an outright enticement. “We have an entire war to discuss before you leave.”
Alycia withstood his smile for all of fifteen seconds, then caved in as, inside, in a secret place, she had known all along she would.
* * *
Chapter 2
“Who’s coming for dinner?”
Laughing at the comic expression of astonishment on Karla’s face, Alycia set a large grocery bag on the table and shrugged out of her damp coat. “You heard me very well,” she replied, grinning as she draped the garment over the back of a chair and yanked the knee-high boots from her cold feet.
“You are kidding, aren’t you?” Andrea croaked in an awed tone.
Controlling her amusement, Alycia dropped her dripping boots on the scatter rug kept near the door for such occasions. As she turned back to the large open room, she placed her right palm over her heart and tried to look solemn. “Would I kid my two dearest friends?” she countered. She smiled at her friends, noting how warm and friendly the huge kitchen was, absently admiring the way it flowed into the living room, only a subtle arch separating the rooms.
“But—Sean Halloran!” Andrea exclaimed, shaking her head as if dazed. “I mean—Sean Halloran? “
“I think,” Karla said coolly, “what our babbling friend here is trying to say is—Sean Halloran!” she finished in a very un-Karla-like yelp.
Alycia raised her eyes as if beseeching help from above. “Have we now established the fact that, yes, indeed, the illustrious, the famous, the world-renowned Sean Halloran will be here for dinner this very evening?” Placing her hands on her neatly rounded hips, Alycia glanced from Karla to Andrea.
“She’s not kidding.” A horrified look replaced Andrea’s stunned expression as she glanced around the spacious living room that extended from the modern kitchen. “This place is a disaster!” She was whirling into action before the last word was out of her mouth.
Alycia and Karla watched their roommate in arrested fascination until, pausing mid-flurry, Andrea demanded, “Well, why are you two just standing there?” She waved her arms wildly. “We can’t even think of allowing Sean Halloran to see this cluttered mess!” Her eyes were wide and imploring. “Will you get it in gear?”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Karla groaned.
“There’s no time, Andrea,” Alycia said, smiling with amused understanding of her compulsively neat friend. “He’s parking the car right now and will be here in a few minutes.” A frown drew her eyebrows together as she glanced around the room. “Besides which, the place really doesn’t look all that cluttered.” And in fact it didn’t, if one was willing to overlook the textbooks piled haphazardly on every horizontal surface.
“That’s not important, anyway,” Karla said, waving her hand impatiently to indicate the room. “What I want to know is, how did this happen? I mean, where did you meet him?” She threw up her hands. “You left here only six hours ago. How ...” Her voice trailed away at the unmistakable sound of a male tread on the stairs.
“Oh, gosh, it’s him!” Andrea moaned, frantically plumping the toss pillows on the sofa.
Spinning around, Alycia headed for the door. “I’ll explain everything later,” she promised, drawing a deep breath and squaring her shoulders before pulling the door open.
“Hi.”
One soft, deep-voiced word was all that was required to set Alycia’s pulses thumping out in a jungle rhythm; the smile that accompanied the word had her nerve endings vibrating to the beat.
“Hi.” Her response was expelled on a whispery puff of uneven breath.
“May I come in?” Sean’s smile grew into a sensuous invitation.
“Wh ... what? Oh!” Alycia blinked and stepped back. “Yes, of course.” Her cheeks growing warm, she swung the door wide. “Come in and meet my friends.”
“Thank you.” Sean stepped into the room, his smile slanting at the scene that met his gaze.
Caught in flight, Andrea stood poised
like a startled doe, her beautiful hazel eyes wide in disbelief as she stared at Sean. Her slender arms were laden with books.
“It’s the profile!” Andrea finally managed the soft exclamation.
Sean’s expectant expression went momentarily blank, “I beg your pardon?”
“Damned if it isn’t,” Karla responded, in a dry, if obviously surprised, tone.
Sean shot a glance at Alycia, who shrugged, as if to say “who knows” before switching her exasperated gaze to her friends.
Andrea stood as if frozen to the floor, her delighted stare riveted to Sean’s face.
Karla stood at the kitchen table, her expression alert, one hand gripping the pale winter tomato she’d just plucked from the grocery bag Alycia had brought. She raised an eyebrow coolly at Alycia and murmured chidingly, “So, get on with it.”
Alycia made the introductions briefly while relieving Sean of the pastry box he held in one hand and the paper bag he was clutching in the other. The formalities over with, she took his heavy thigh-length jacket while he tugged rugged boots from his feet. After tossing the boots next to Alycia’s, Sean retrieved the articles she was balancing, along with his jacket.
“I hope you don’t mind the intrusion,” Sean said, raising his brows questioningly, his expression saying quite clearly that he wasn’t sure.
Reading his wary look correctly, Karla and Andrea hastened to assure him that he wasn’t intruding at all.
“I invited Alycia out, but it appears just about every restaurant is closing due to the weather, so we shopped for dinner,” he explained, the beginnings of a grin easing his wariness as Andrea and Karla attempted to eye the pastry box with casual disinterest. “I hope you both like steak and salad, followed by coffee and cheesecake.”
“Cheesecake! My favorite.” Karla groaned. “There goes my diet.”
Snapping out of her bemusement, the ultra-slim Andrea smiled smugly. “I love cheesecake.” She threw a teasing glance at Karla. “And I never diet.”