She stopped avoiding his eyes. He’d never believe her if she mumbled the statement to her shoes. “I’m not running from anything.”
She hadn’t fooled him. She could tell by the look in his eyes. But he let the matter drop. “Have it your way. Maybe sixty-five miles an hour is your normal speed. But if you are running from something, Charley,” he added, still holding her hand, “let me run with you. Whatever it is, I want to help.”
The pressure of his hand on hers was so reassuring, so warm. Charley felt guilty deceiving him this way. He obviously thought she was in some kind of trouble. He had no way of knowing that, among other things, she was trying to keep him from harm by avoiding him.
She knew she should go, but she couldn’t get her feet to move in the proper direction.
“I’ll let you know if I need you,” she said with a gentle smile. “Now, don’t worry. There’s nothing wrong. I just have all this nervous energy whenever I get a part. I keep wondering, is this my big break? Things like that.”
He nodded, but he didn’t believe her. “Want another?” he asked, nodding at the mustard-stained napkin she still held.
“Yes,” she said without hesitation.
He grinned. “Well, at least you’re not an expensive date. Would you like an Orange Julius?” he asked, gesturing to another pushcart. “Then I can say I wined and dined you.” Before she could answer, he was leading her to the Orange Julius stand, where patrons sipped a concoction of orange juice, eggs, and sugar. Charley couldn’t remember when she had tasted anything so good. She moved her straw around the bottom of the tall paper cup, searching for just one more drop of orange juice inside the foamy bubbles.
“When did you say you ate last?” Reese asked teasingly, watching her.
She grew self-conscious. “I just enjoy my food,” she said lamely.
“There is something to be said for enjoying the simple pleasures of life,” he agreed, slipping his hand to the back of her neck. “Up to enjoying a few more pleasures?” he asked innocently.
One glance at his face told Charley he had nothing innocent in mind for her. “Well, I don’t know, Reese. I’ve got a lot of lines to learn for tomorrow ...” It was the same excuse she’d used before, but it was the only one that came to mind.
“You’re not on call tomorrow,” he reminded her.
She had forgotten that he’d written up the schedule for Chalmers. “Yes, that’s true,” she said, not missing a beat despite her error, “but you know me. I like to be prepared. You never know when Chalmers might decide to go ahead and—“
“You’re running again,” Reese said. “Is it me you’re running from?”
“No, of course not. Don’t be silly,” she said too quickly. Was it Reese she was running from? she asked herself. Deep down, was it fear of making a personal commitment that was driving her away? Yes, yes, she had plenty of neat little excuses all tied up with big red bows, but were they only there to divert her attention from the real reason she hadn’t stayed with Reese in the beginning? Experiencing danger and excitement was one thing. Committing herself to one man forever was quite another. Was she afraid of emotional commitment?
“I’m not running from you,” she said aloud, as if to convince herself. Right at this moment she wasn’t sure about anything.
“I think you are,” he said softly. “I think that’s what made you run away in the first place.”
“I thought you were the stage manager, not the resident psychiatrist.”
“Doesn’t take a psychiatrist to see the signs. A lot of people are afraid of making commitments.”
She looked up at him. “And you’re not?”
“Not to you.”
The warm light in his eyes, the love vibrating in his voice, threatened to melt her, right there in midtown Manhattan. Why had she thrown this away a year ago? Why was she resisting it now? The FBI and looming danger, Max and Allison and the unknown foreign agent, all faded from her consciousness, replaced by the overwhelming love she felt for Reese.
She murmured his name, unaware that she had done so, and suddenly flung her arms around his neck. He held her tightly against him, his face buried in her hair.
“Charley, Charley,” he whispered. “Come home with me. I need you.”
She pushed away from him and looked directly into his eyes. “Yes. I need you too.”
Without hesitation he stepped off the curb to hail a cab. Miraculously, one stopped almost immediately. They didn’t speak the whole way uptown to his apartment building, but simply held hands. It was enough just to be together.
As they walked down the hall to his apartment, Charley thought she would explode from the tension and anticipation. Her anticipation began to dissipate, though, as she watched Reese stuff his hands alternately into his jeans and his jacket pockets.
“Damn,” he muttered under his breath.
“What’s the matter?”
He turned away from his door. “Seems I can’t pull you into my lair as swiftly as I had hoped. I must have left my keys at the theater.” She saw a red tinge of embarrassment color his features, and it endeared him to her all the more.
“How about the super?” she suggested.
He nodded, and they returned to the first floor. But knocking on the superintendent’s door produced nothing but silence. “I guess he’s out,” Reese said. “Want to head back to your place?”
“No, that’s no good,” Charley said firmly. There was no telling when Allison would come back, and Charley knew she couldn’t let Allison find her with Reese. There was one solution to the locked door that wouldn’t involve a trip back to the theater or a possibly long wait for the super.
“C’mon,” she said impetuously. “Let’s go.”
“Where?” Reese asked, following her back to the elevator.
“Your apartment.”
“I don’t see what good this is going to do,” he said when they reached his floor again and got out. “The door’s locked. The—“ He stopped as he saw Charley reach into her purse and take out what looked like a thin silver key. Without pausing to answer, she applied the needle to the lock on his door. As he watched in stunned silence, Charley maneuvered the silver needle until the lock clicked open.
“Where did you learn that?” he asked.
She flashed him a quick grin. “Girl Scout manual. They always believe in being prepared.”
“That wasn’t in any Girl Scout manual I ever heard of,” he said, holding the door open.
“Updated version,” she quipped, hoping that he would leave the matter alone.
“Breaking in to collect their cookie money?”
“You got it. Well, you’re in, so I’d better go.” She spun on her heel, ready to flee. She sensed that he was going to come up with a dozen questions that she couldn’t answer at the moment. Scolding herself for her impulsive action, she took a step toward the elevator.
But he caught her arm. “I’m not where I want to be yet,” he said, and the soft tone of his voice melted away any thoughts of flight—at least for the moment.
Chapter Seven
They made love as soon as they were inside the apartment, neither one able to hold back an instant longer. It was a wild, frenzied love-making, spurred on by Charley’s vast inner needs and her fear that the joy she had rediscovered with Reese could not last. In the end, for his own good, she was going to have to leave him again, she told herself. As long as she was involved with the FBI she would be putting him in danger just by being with him. But could she leave the Bureau? she asked herself in the sweet aftermath of their loving. Could she lead a normal life somewhere in the country, with a picket fence and creeping ivy? No, she answered miserably. She was not cut out for the safe, dull life. She needed the excitement her career provided, the feeling that her work really mattered.
But that meant giving up Reese.
She squeezed back tears and held him tighter, kissed him harder.
“Hey, hey,” he said, gently removing her arms f
rom around his neck. “What’s the matter?”
She lay back against the pillow, her hair fanning out around her. “Nothing,” she lied, shaking her head from side to side. But tears shimmered, unshed, in her eyes.
“Don’t tell me ‘nothing.’ You’ve got a death grip on my neck and I don’t look like I’m going anywhere.” He brushed her hair back from her face, his fingers worshiping her smooth skin. “Tell me about it,” he coaxed softly.
No, not now, she thought desperately. She didn’t dare tell him now. He’d probably tell her not to go through with her mission, but she had a responsibility, a job to perform. Or worse yet, he’d try to protect her and get himself into trouble. No, she couldn’t let any of that happen. “There’s nothing to tell, Reese,” she insisted. “I got a little carried away with the mood of the moment. You’re the world’s greatest lover, you know.” She ran her fingers lingeringly along his lips.
He pretended to be surprised. “You’ve seen the trophy?” he asked. The next instant, he was ducking a pillow as Charley pulled it out from behind her and tried to beat him with it.
“Oh, tough guy, eh?” he said, tackling her. The pillow flew out of her hands, and she landed flat on the bed. “I have a way of dealing with tough guys,” he warned her, stretching the length of his body over hers again.
And for a while the world and all its troubles were pushed away. This time Charley didn’t go home.
“But why can’t you move in with me?” Reese asked the next morning, raising his voice so he could be heard above the sound of running water. His gaze drifted toward the opaque shower door as he tried to catch a glimpse of Charley’s form. He nicked himself with his razor instead. “Damn,” he muttered as a tiny dot of blood appeared and grew, blending in with the shaving cream.
“I told you,” Charley called back. “Allison’s moved in with me. She can’t afford to stay somewhere on her own.”
The mention of Allison’s name brought an assault of guilt with it. Some surveillance work, she berated herself, and silently promised that she would do better. It wasn’t fair to put the entire burden of tailing Allison on the agent who was just supposed to be watching the apartment. Although nothing might be happening, she was the “man on the inside.”
In nearly a year of service she had had an exemplary record—until Reese. This had to stop.
Reese studied her shimmery outline through the shower door. She was fishing for excuses, he thought. Why? What was keeping her from him? What was she trying to hide from him?
“How about once we get to Boston?” he asked.
“I’ve already reserved a double room for her and me at the hotel. Reese, this is her first time out on her own, and, well, I’ve kind of taken it upon myself to look after her.” Well, that at least was true.
“Is it too soon?” he asked, cutting across her tissue of lies.
“Yes,” she answered, grabbing the excuse he offered. But was it really an excuse? Even now, was she using her job to get away from the truth, from her own shortcomings? If there had been no Allison to guard, would she move in with Reese or run away?
“Okay, I’ll accept that,” he said. “Always be honest with me, Charley. The only thing I can’t handle is lies.”
Oh, Lord. She groaned inwardly. She had already told so many lies, she would never be able to confess the truth.
“And as for Allison,” he went on, “from what I’ve seen, she’s quite a capable lady.” He calmly started to shave again. He could wait, he thought. The show could very well turn out to be a hit. That meant Charley would be around for some time. Plenty of opportunity to wear her down and get her to commit herself.
“Capable, huh?” she said, purposely turning off the hot-water faucet and letting icy water attack her body from all angles. “Is that the way you like them?”
“I like them with funny names, like ‘Charley,’ “ he said. “But, seriously, I don’t think you have to worry about Allison. She’s not quite the lost little country girl she appears to be.”
Why couldn’t the congressman have been as astute as Reese? Charley wondered. Then there wouldn’t be any mess to sort out. On the other hand, she wouldn’t have come to be in this play, wouldn’t have met Reese again. Tasted ecstasy again. Frozen to death in his shower, she added, suddenly realizing that the cold water was still pouring over her. She turned off the shower and stood still, water dripping down her body.
“What makes you say Allison can take care of herself?” she asked.
“Because she’s been flirting with me,” he said, guiding the razor along his Adam’s apple. “She knows what she wants, and she knows how to get it.”
Charley opened the shower stall a crack and pulled off the towel that she had wrapped around her head. Her hair fell around her shoulders like golden-brown sunbeams. “Well, is she going to get you?” she asked, not quite able to keep her jealousy out of her voice.
Reese watched in the bathroom mirror as she dried off and wrapped the towel around her. “A year ago this savvy young actress plunked her quarter down and put me on a layaway plan. Nobody else gets me until she comes back with the final payment.”
“A quarter?” Charley laughed. “Is that all it takes to hold you?”
“No,” he said, turning around. “It takes two arms—your two arms.” He moved to kiss her.
“You haven’t finished shaving yet,” she said.
“To hell with shaving. I might start a new trend.” He pulled her into his arms. The scent of his shaving cream surrounded her, and she felt its silky texture as he rubbed against her cheek.
“You’ll be late,” she warned. She might not be on call today, but he always was.
He lifted her off the floor. As he did, her towel fell off. She loved the look that came into his eyes at the sight of her naked body. “I’ll work quickly,” he promised.
“Not too quick,” she murmured, allowing her emotions to get the better of her again.
“Charley?” Reese whispered as they lay in bed, sated for the moment. The clock was ticking away, and he was going to be late for the first time in his life, but he didn’t care. He wanted to hold on to this moment as long as he could.
“Hmm?” She stirred against him, allowing herself to luxuriate in the warmth and feel of his body.
“Do you remember the beginning?”
“Yes. You carried me in from the bathroom, with shaving cream all over your face.” She was teasing him on purpose, trying to fight the look of tenderness she saw in his eyes.
“No,” he said gently, patiently. “Our beginning.”
“You’re going to be late, Reese.” Her tone was imploring.
A smile played over his lips. He didn’t hear her. For a moment he was living in the past. “We were at a casting call for the revival of Skin of Our Teeth. We were both scared and trying not to show it. But then I saw you and suddenly getting a part didn’t matter so much.” He curled a strand of her hair around his finger and pressed it to his lips.
“Love at first sight, huh?” She tried to make it a joke.
“Something like that,” he said, and the seriousness in his voice quelled any ideas on her part to keep this conversation light. “We got parts, all right,” he went on, “but not the ones we wanted. That was when you suggested that we treat ourselves to a consolation dinner.”
She remembered. She didn’t know what had possessed her to do that. She had been nervous, not because of the play, but because she was waiting to hear from the Bureau and they were taking so very long to answer. She hadn’t meant to get involved with Reese. But there was something about him that had drawn her to him the first moment she laid eyes on him.
“That was some dinner,” he added, lifting her chin so that she had to meet his eyes.
“Yes, it was,” she answered softly. Nothing had ever hit her so hard. The dinner had lasted for hours, and when they had gone back to his apartment for coffee, she had been tempted to stay. She hadn’t, but after a week of rehearsing with him ever
y day, eating almost every meal with him, spending any free moment with him, she did stay. She had never experienced the feelings, the longings, the needs that she had known when she was with Reese. Each time she’d been with him, those feelings had grown stronger. It had frightened her. It had been too intense, too sudden. Maybe that was why she had run to the Bureau so quickly when she was finally accepted.
Reese ran his finger along her lower lip. “What are you thinking about?”
She blinked, trying to clear her mind. “That if you don’t stop this trip down memory lane, you’re not going to get to rehearsal until noon and Chalmers’ll fire you.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “I guess I’d better get ready.”
“Yes, you’d better,” she said quietly.
Reese insisted on walking Charley to her building before he hurried off to the rehearsal. She couldn’t shake the feeling that beneath his easy smile, he was worried about her. Worried without knowing why he was worried. Was she being fair to him, to both of them? she wondered as she took out her key. She was only putting off the inevitable. Sooner or later she was going to have to leave him. A lasting relationship between them just wasn’t possible. Besides the danger, she sensed a basic difference in their personalities. She craved excitement, but Reese needed stability. He had proved that by becoming a stage manager rather than an actor. Being an actor left too many things to chance—like eating. Reese appeared to have a level head on his gorgeous shoulders. Cloak-and-dagger work was not for him. She couldn’t even hope to make him understand what it meant to her.
She let herself into her apartment and saw that Allison was still sleeping on the sofa. Morning person, huh? Charley thought, recalling Allison’s claim that she liked mornings best. Charley was willing to bet that given half a chance, the woman’s only acquaintance with the early hours of the morning would be from the other side of the evening.
Making a deliberate effort to be quiet, Charley walked into her bedroom. Very softly she closed the door behind her, then took a long look around. Unlike the day before, this morning she wasn’t in a hurry. She had time to take a thorough visual inventory. Nothing appeared to have been moved. Nothing noticeable, at any rate. She opened the bottom drawer of the bureau. A rainbow of pastel underwear met her eye, all neatly arranged. Charley took the poetry book she had left on top of the bureau and placed it in the drawer. When she had arranged her underwear, the stack was easily covered by the book. Now bits of nylon and lace were visible on both sides of the cover. Allison had searched the place, all right.
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