There was a long silence.
“Allison, I’m not going to stop you from leaving if that’s what you want. I just wish you’d talk to me first, tell me what’s going on. Then I’ll drive you home myself if you want. Okay?”
They stood there in silence for a moment. He wanted to touch her, to comfort her, but he forced himself to keep his hands at his sides. He knew he couldn’t crowd her right now.
“Okay,” Allison said finally.
He felt a quick rush of relief. He looked around, and saw a wrought iron bench several yards away. He went over to it, and Allison followed. He was careful to leave a foot of space between them when they sat.
“So can you tell me why seeing Paul upset you so much?”
The trees in the garden had been strung with tiny white lights, winking like stars among the leaves. They created a dim, ambient radiance, enough that he could see Allison’s expression. Her face was tense and unhappy. When she spoke, her voice sounded hopeless.
“It’s not important,” she said softly.
His jaw tightened. “It is important. You’re important. And why shouldn’t you be upset? You saw an old boyfriend you haven’t seen in ten years. A guy you’re still in love with.” He knew he sounded bitter, but he wasn’t sorry he’d spoken the words out loud. Why not get it out in the open?
She shifted on the bench to face him. “Is that what you think? That I’m in love with Paul?”
His heart twisted. “It’s true, isn’t it?”
“No,” she said, her voice trembling. “God, no.”
She took a deep breath and let it out. “I was in love with him, once. Back in high school, when we found out Megan was sick.” She shook her head slowly. “The next two years were so hard. She got worse and worse…and we found out we were going to lose her…and I felt so dead inside, so lost, and I was trying to stay strong for her and for my parents…and sometimes I just wanted to run away. To forget about all the sadness and feel like a normal teenager for a while.
“You asked me at my parents’ house, remember? You asked me if I had something in my life that wasn’t about Megan or my family. Well, I did. I had a crush on Paul, and when he asked me out, I was so happy. I really was infatuated with him, in the beginning.
“But it wasn’t real. I was using the relationship as an escape from everything else that was going on, and Paul… He hated that I spent so much time with Megan and my family. He said that he should be the most important thing in my life. He was used to getting everything he wanted,” she said bitterly. “His father was Senator Winthrop, and Paul always had everything handed to him on a silver platter. I guess he thought I should be, too.
“For a while I gave in to him, and spent less time with my family. Every hour I spent with him was an hour I could have spent with Megan. For years I hated myself for that, for how much time and emotion I’d wasted on someone who wasn’t worth a damn.
“We’d been going out for almost a year when he started pressuring me to have sex. I thought maybe if we slept together it would make things better between us. I thought if I gave him this thing he wanted so much, maybe he wouldn’t resent the time I spent with Megan. But it made things worse.
“The first time just hurt. The second time I was tense, and Paul had been drinking and he wasn’t exactly patient, so that hurt, too. It never got any better. I used to get sick to my stomach when he’d pick me up for dates.”
He reached for her hand, closing his fingers around hers, and she didn’t pull away. “After a few months of that I…I finally broke up with him.” She paused. “I swore afterward I’d never put myself through anything like that again. I hated myself for having gone out with him at all, for having been so stupid. I swore I’d never waste another second of my life like that, when I could spend time with family, or friends, or doing work I loved.”
She paused again. “When I saw him tonight, it reminded me of how stupid I was.”
Rick shook his head. “How old were you then, seventeen? You weren’t stupid, you were just a kid. You were a kid doing the best you could, and you did a better job with the load you had to carry than anyone had a right to expect—including you.”
He tightened his hand around hers. “Do you remember when we were at the hospital, and you told me I shouldn’t judge myself for the way I reacted to grief? You’re always giving people permission to be human, Allison—everyone but yourself.”
There was a long silence. They sat quietly, holding hands, until he heard her take a deep, shuddering breath.
“I’ve never talked about Paul,” she said. “Not to anyone.”
“You don’t like talking about yourself. Not personal things.”
“I know. I don’t mean to be closed off or anything, it’s just…I think you’re probably right. I don’t always let myself be human. In my work I’m always telling people to open up, to be vulnerable, when I can’t do it myself.”
He stroked her wrist with the pad of his thumb. “I’m glad you talked to me tonight.”
“So am I.” She hesitated. “But I’m sorry about your charity ball. Aren’t you supposed to be in there hosting or emceeing, or something? As opposed to sitting out here in the dark with me?”
He smiled. “I turned the hosting duties for this event over to my VPs years ago. They enjoy it more than I do.”
“Still…I know I ruined your night.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
He turned her hand palm up. Then he ran his fingertips softly over her skin, from her wrist to the inside of her elbow. He heard her breath catch. When he did it again, he felt her shiver.
When he thought about how Paul had pressured her and rushed her and hurt her, he had to clamp down on his anger. That’s why she froze up sometimes, why she’d bolted the first few times he’d touched her.
He didn’t want her body carrying any memories of Paul. He wanted to give her new memories, memories of the way it should be between a man and a woman.
Except he wasn’t sure of that himself, anymore. All the women he’d been with, all the physical pleasure he’d given and received—nothing had prepared him for the way he felt when he was with Allison. This was uncharted territory for both of them.
Her skin was impossibly soft. He brushed his fingertips higher, up her arm to her shoulder. She didn’t pull away, so he traced a path across her collarbone, every nerve in his body attuned to her. He felt every tremble, heard every hitch in her breathing.
Allison couldn’t think about anything but this. Every cell of her body was focused on Rick, on his fingertips stroking softly along her skin. When he brushed over the inside of her elbow she quivered. When he drew his fingers across her collarbone she felt it in her nipples, already so hard she could feel them pushing against her dress.
“There’s one thing I wanted to ask you,” he said.
She swallowed. “What is it?” she asked, her voice husky.
He still held her right hand in his. “You said something on the dance floor before we bumped into Paul. Something about being ready. Do you remember?”
Of course she did. It was the thing she’d been trying to say from the moment he’d picked her up at her apartment.
“I remember,” she said.
“What did you mean by that?”
Her confidence had been building all evening, until seeing Paul had shattered it completely. But now…
It wasn’t that her confidence had returned. It was more that she wanted Rick so much it didn’t matter anymore.
He was here, with her, in her personal heart of darkness. He’d listened to her and comforted her, but he’d done more than that. He’d taken darkness itself and transformed it, made it a place of sweetness and desire instead of pain.
She hadn’t told him everything. A part of her still clung to that last secret, that last hidden place in her heart. She wanted to tell him, but she knew she needed a little more time before she crossed that last difficult breach.
She knew it would be hard f
or Rick to hear. She knew it would remind him of the violence in his own childhood. But she knew that when she was ready, he would listen to her.
He was waiting for her to speak right now. But for this particular declaration, she wanted to use body language.
She pulled her hand from his so she could put both palms flat on his chest, inside his jacket and over his shirt. She felt him still at her touch, and then take a deep breath. But he didn’t move, and she knew the next step was up to her.
She ran her hands slowly up his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath the smooth shirt. She let her hands move to his face, cupping his cheeks and brushing a thumb across his lips. She felt him shudder, and she smiled as she threaded her fingers through his hair. She’d been wanting to do that for days, and she was amazed to find it was as soft as it looked.
She leaned forward to place a soft kiss on his jaw. She felt his hands settle on her hips, as if he couldn’t help himself anymore.
He smelled so good. He always smelled good, but right now the scent of aftershave on his skin turned her muscles to water. She pulled his head down and kissed him on the mouth.
He groaned, and his hands tightened on her hips. She moved closer, her breasts brushing against his chest, and he pulled her flush against him. He opened his mouth, and because their lips were pressed together hers opened, too.
The taste of him was wild and sweet and familiar. His hands roamed as if they couldn’t rest in one place, over her waist, her back, her arms, her shoulders. Then he slid his fingers into her hair.
The kiss was hungry now, feverish. She was gripping the rigid muscles of his shoulders, and she was amazed at the strength under her fingers and the restraint that made his touch so gentle.
When he broke the kiss, they were both gasping. Rick rested his forehead against hers as they fought for breath.
After a minute he straightened up. “Allison.”
Her breathing was still ragged, but she could speak. “Yes.”
“Do you want to go back to the party?”
“No.”
“Do you want to call it a night?”
She gripped the lapels of his tuxedo. “No.”
He stroked her hair, letting his hand settle at the back of her neck. “Then I need you to tell me what you do want.”
“I want—” She reached for her courage, and found she had more than enough. “I want you. I want to be with you.”
His chest rose as he took a deep breath. “They have rooms here,” he said.
“I hope so. I mean, it is a hotel.”
“Do you—”
“Yes.”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet.
When they were back inside the lobby she went to the coat check counter to retrieve her purse. By the time she got it, Rick was waiting for her.
He held up a hotel key card with a grin. Then he took her by the hand and led her to the elevators.
“Rick, I need to tell you…”
He looked down at her, and the heat in his gaze made her stomach flutter.
“You can tell me anything.”
“It’s just… I’m not sure I can… It’s been a long time for me. I want to spend the night with you, but I’m not sure I’m ready for…”
“Hold that thought for a second,” he said as the elevator doors opened and he pulled her inside.
When the doors closed again he backed her against the wall and kissed her, his hands thrust into her hair and his tongue stroking the inside of her mouth.
Her bones melted as she kissed him back, sliding her arms around his waist and pulling him closer.
He broke the kiss before she was ready and she made a little sound of protest.
“This is what I want to do tonight,” he whispered. “I want to be alone with you, and kiss you, and do everything you’re ready for and nothing you’re not. Okay?”
She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she just nodded. Rick smiled and leaned close again, but then the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened, so he took her hand instead and led her across the hall to another set of elevators.
Rick inserted his key card into a slot and the doors opened, this time for a short ride up just one floor.
When the doors opened again, Allison found herself looking into an opulent two-room suite with a wall of windows overlooking the city. She gasped, and Rick smiled with obvious pleasure at her reaction. “I thought you’d like it.”
He went over to the mahogany entertainment console, turning on the satellite radio and finding the station he wanted. Frank Sinatra was singing “They Can’t Take That Away From Me,” and he turned back to Allison, walking toward her with his hand outstretched.
She took it, and he pulled her into his arms.
They danced around the big living room with the city lights glinting through the picture windows, and her blood seemed to be shimmering instead of flowing through her veins.
There was a knock on the door, and Rick led her over to the couch before he went to go answer it.
“Pajamas,” he said as he came back, carrying two white boxes, one large and one small.
“Wow,” she said, smiling up at him. “I didn’t realize you could order pajamas like room service.”
“I asked downstairs if they’d raid the hotel boutique for us.”
Her heart warmed. “Thanks,” she said.
He sat down beside her, taking off his jacket and loosening his tie, and Allison realized why the look was so familiar.
“You look exactly like you did in that picture. The one in People.”
He groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
“You looked so sexy,” she said, leaning back against the cushions and smiling at him. “The week after we had dinner that first night, I stole Rachel’s copy of the magazine and brought it home with me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You did?”
“I did.”
He grinned at her. “I still have that issue of the Gazette, the one with the pictures of us. And I keep your book on my night table. I stare at your face every night before I go to sleep.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
There was a moment of silence between them, charged and electric, and Allison reached for the box that held her pajamas to break the tension.
“I think I’ll go put these on,” she said.
“I was hoping you might indulge me in one thing first.”
She swallowed. “What would that be?”
“Ever since you opened your apartment door tonight, I’ve been wanting to unzip that dress.”
Her heart thumped against her ribs. “Just unzip it?”
He nodded.
After a moment’s hesitation she moved over next to him and turned her back. She felt his hands against her bare skin, and then the slow slide of the zipper. He pressed a kiss against the nape of her neck and she got goose bumps on top of goose bumps.
“Let me take off your shoes,” he said in a voice that made her knees weak, and she put a hand to the top of her dress to make sure it stayed up as she scooted back to her side of the couch, reclining back against the armrest and lifting her feet into his lap.
He slid the sandals off slowly, one after the other.
Her small feet seemed lost in his big hands as he stroked his thumbs across her insteps, over and over, a sensation so exquisite she had to close her eyes, unable to do anything but feel. When his hands moved higher, over her ankles and along her calves, she started to quiver.
She wanted him to go higher. She wanted to invite him into all her secret places. There was a sudden throbbing of heat and wetness at her center, a wild longing to open for him, to let him into the very heart of her.
“You should go get changed,” he said after a moment.
She got to her feet a little shakily. “Can I show you something first?”
He raised an eyebrow. “That’s a question you never have to ask.”
The pile of the carpet felt thick and luxuriou
s under her stocking feet. “My sister made me buy this black lace garter belt…”
She paused, keeping one hand on the bodice of her dress as she slowly pulled up her skirt.
“When I was putting it on, I had this fantasy of you seeing it.”
The top of the slit rose to her hip, showing the black strap against her bare skin and the ribboned clasp holding up the top of her stocking.
The look in his eyes was more than she’d imagined in her fantasy.
“What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger,” he murmured. “I’d like to think that by continuing to sit here and not undoing that thing with my teeth, I’m building character.”
“Character is important,” she said, her voice husky. She took a deep breath. Then she put both her hands at her sides and let her dress slip to the floor.
For a second he just stared at her. Then he rose to his feet, moving slowly and deliberately, and closed the space between them.
When she felt his hands on the bare skin of her waist, she gasped.
“I don’t know how I got through last week,” he whispered. His eyes were on hers, the pupils so dilated they looked black. “I want you so much. I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you.”
His hands moved slowly up her sides, and she felt a restless ache start between her legs. “Me, too,” she said indistinctly, her voice shaking.
“Liar,” he said, leaning closer. “You thought I was a jerk the first time we met.”
“And the second time, if we’re being honest…”
He smiled, his hands stopping just under her bra.
“And now?”
“Now I think you’re…okay.”
“Just okay?” His thumbs moved, caressing the undersides of her breasts through the lace of her bra. Desire stabbed through her, leaving her knees weak.
“Definitely better than okay.”
“How much better?”
His hands moved higher, and she held her breath. When his thumbs stroked across her aching nipples, a spasm rocked her body.
Her knees buckled, but before she could collapse he scooped her into his arms as if she weighed nothing at all.
She rested her head against his chest as he carried her into the bedroom. Her hand found a gap between the buttons of his shirt and she slid inside, touching his bare skin, where she could feel his heart pounding against her fingers.
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