TWICE VICTORIOUS
Page 10
If Adam hadn't appeared Friday night, shaking her out of her cocoon of self-pity, she would still be lazing on the couch, stuffing her face and weeping over Disney movies.
She reached for the file folder containing The Nu U's accounts payable. Right now she had more important things to do than ponder rhetorical questions. Yesterday had been the beginning of her new regimen of self-discipline. She had not allowed herself to be distracted from her work for anything, no matter how tempted she'd been to call Adam.
Stell managed to forget that she was waiting for Adam's call as she worked through her neglected tasks. At the rate she was going, she thought while standing in the kitchen about noon, nibbling carrot sticks, she would be all caught up by Friday. That was good, because she was scheduled to officiate at the Mayor's Race next Sunday.
Perhaps Adam would like to go with her. He'd seemed to enjoy the race at the velodrome. This would show him another side to cycling, the street race. Perhaps after the race they could rent one of those surreys, if Adam would peddle. They could tour Waterfront Park, see the new sculptures and watch the people.
She stared at the receiver in her hand. When had she picked that up? He was going to call her. When he had time, the receptionist had said.
Just where did she fit on his list of priorities, she wondered.
She had the answer about five that evening. Low. Very low. Adam still hadn't called.
There was a Pizza Hut coupon somewhere in the mess on the front of the refrigerator. She just didn't feel like cooking something nutritious if she was going to eat alone.
She didn't feel like exercising either. After sitting at her desk all day, she was tired, stiff, and achy. The simple exercises she was allowed wouldn't help that. All they'd do is make her hip ache.
Maybe a bath would make her feel better. No, she didn't feel like a bath. She picked up the TV schedule on her way to the kitchen. Perhaps there would be something worth watching, a good mystery, say, or a bright comedy. Something to cheer her up.
Adam hadn't called. Did that mean his mother was no longer resting comfortably? Had he forgotten she'd called, that he'd promised to call her back. Was he taking this opportunity to break things off between them?
Darn! She had to get to the grocery. There wasn't a thing in her refrigerator. All her veggies were dead, slimy messes in the crisper. Some of the contents of covered dishes seemed to be growing interesting crops, too. All she had in the house was junk food, which she really needed to toss before she took solace in it again.
She glanced at the calendar, wondering just how long it had been since she'd shopped. Oh lord! Tonight was her regular evening out with Cindy.
Dressing for dinner and a movie was the last thing she was in the mood to do. Cindy would insist on a complete rundown of her activities the last few weeks, including how well her injuries were healing. She couldn't lie about what Carl had told her last week, not to her best friend. She'd call and beg off. Cindy would just have to understand.
The phone receiver was lying on the counter. Off the hook.
How in the world had it gotten there?
She'd thought about calling Adam at noon, but surely she'd replaced it in the cradle. Hadn't she?
Obviously not.
She must have gone downstairs before the irritating buzzing that announced an off-the-hook phone began. Her office was far enough from the kitchen that she hadn't heard it.
It was five-thirty. Maybe he would still be in his office. She dialed.
He wasn't. After an afternoon of trying to reach her, he'd probably given up and gone home. She nibbled on her thumbnail. What should she do? His home phone was unlisted and he'd never given the number to her. She didn't know his sister's married name, and his mother was in the hospital.
"That's it! He'll be going to the hospital tonight." She grabbed the phone book and riffled through its pages. Within minutes she was learning that the phone in Mrs. Vanderhook's room was busy and that the switchboard was unable to take messages for visitors to patients.
"You're crazy, that's what," she told herself as she replaced the receiver, making sure it was really in place. "You don't even know he wants to see you."
Maybe he was disgusted at her brazen behavior. Was he the old fashioned sort of man who wanted to be in charge, especially in matters sexual?
She looked down at her hands. They still remembered the weight of him, the hard length of him, the way he had trusted her as he gasped and thrust his way to completion had brought her to a peak of unfamiliar desire. Only a shred of her usual common sense had kept her from joining herself with him in wild abandon.
In a public place, beside a public road, she'd been half a thought away from having it all.
The phone rang.
* * * *
Was she depressed again? Holed up in her living room before the TV, alleviating her depression with food, blanking her mind with schlock. Was that why Stell's phone had been off the hook all afternoon?
If only Juliana hadn't panicked Friday night. Mom had been in extreme pain, certainly, but it wasn't the first time she'd had an attack like this. It was just the first time his sister had been forced to deal with one. She hadn't even listened when Mom tried to tell her that her pills and time would eventually end her pain.
Well, at least this time Mom was where she ought to be, in the hospital. And she was scheduled to have her gall bladder taken care of finally. After months of resisting Adam's entreaties to do something about the increasingly frequent attacks, Juliana had solved the whole problem.
On second thought, he should be glad she'd panicked.
This time her phone rang, instead of giving him a busy signal. This time Stell answered.
"Good. You're there," he said, before she could say more than hello.
There was a long silence. Finally, "Adam, it's so good of you to call."
"I've been busy." Talk about understatement.
"I assumed as much." He shivered in the chill of her voice.
"Damn it, Stell, I've had Mei Lei dialing your line every fifteen minutes all night. Why was your phone off the hook?" He'd thought at first that she was having an unusually long business conversation, but after the first futile hour he'd drawn the only conclusion possible. She'd changed her mind about wanting to talk to him.
"Who's Melly?" No warmer.
"Never mind. I've been tied up since I got here, but I had to talk to you." He drew a deep breath. "Look, things got a little crazy. Juliana's message sounded like Mom was on the brink of death. I couldn't think about anything but getting to her. Then Saturday morning..."
"I'm not upset, Adam. But four days is a long time to be tied up on business." Five degrees warmer, perhaps. No more.
He swiped a hand across his face, feeling the prickle of several days' growth of beard. When had he last shaved? He couldn't remember. "If you'll just shut up, I'll explain everything." He glared through the windowed wall of his temporary office. Numerous eyes which had been surreptitiously watching him were suddenly aimed at ledger sheets and computer screens. Damn it! He was too tired for stupid games. "I'm in Taiwan."
"You don't own me any expla... you're where?"
"Taiwan," he repeated, feeling fatigue seeping through him. He'd been fine until he sat down. Now he didn't know if he'd ever stand again. "Labor problems. I've been here since Sunday...Saturday...whenever."
"Oh, Adam, and I thought...." Her voice was warm now, and so sweet he ached with missing her. "You sound so tired."
"Half dead is more like it. I haven't seen a bed since I got here. And it's going to get worse before it gets better." Twice he'd sacked out on the couch in this office, and he was about ready to collapse there again. "About Friday night, Stell. I want you to know it was the best... it was great... oh, hell. I feel like I'm sitting in the middle of a goldfish bowl."
Distance hummed in his ear.
"I was beginning to wonder if you never wanted to see me again." Hesitant, almost apologetic, her words made him
realize how fragile her self-confidence was, right now. "I just sort of took over, without giving you a chance to tell me what you wanted."
"Stell, believe me, you gave me what I wanted," he said, growing hard at the memory of what she'd done for him, to him. "It was one of the most exciting experiences of my life."
He couldn't remember ever being as turned on as he had been by her aggressiveness. No matter what he heard about modern women being more demanding of their sexual rights, it was his experience that most of them tended to let the man take the leading role in lovemaking.
Stell hadn't. She'd known what she wanted to do and she'd done it. Oh, God, had she done it!
"Really?" A plea for reassurance.
"Absolutely. You can have your way with me anytime, Stell, anytime at all." As long as I get equal opportunity. "But there are better ways, you know."
The secret glances of the entire office were making his skin crawl. He swiveled his chair around and glowered at a painting of a schooner against a preposterous sunset.
"I know." Her voice had lost its tentative quaver. She hesitated and he could almost see her, twisting the phone cord around her finger, biting her lower lip.
Someone knocked. "Look, I can't talk now. I just wanted to let you know not to expect to hear from me much for a few days."
"I won't. Adam?"
"Hmmm?" God how he wanted to sleep!
"Take care of yourself."
"As well as I can."
"How about a picnic when you come home?"
"The very next day," he promised. "I'll call you."
He sat in the chair for several minutes after hanging up. It took him that long to convince his body that it couldn't possibly maintain a state of sexual readiness until he got back to Portland.
* * * *
Ten days later Adam finally appeared at her door. He'd called once to say he was coming home, but a few hours later his secretary had called to say he'd had to stay on.
Twice more Donna--she was beginning to seem like an old friend--had called to inform her Adam's return had again been postponed. He'd called the day before yesterday from the airport, pleading terminal exhaustion, but promising to be recovered and ready for a picnic today.
In the interim, Stell had found herself wondering if it wouldn't be better if Adam never came back. During his absence it had been easier to cope with her doubts, to reaffirm her goals.
She knew she was getting too involved with him. Sooner or later she would be back in training and would have little time for him. What would he do then?
Need she ask? He'd put up with her cycling every night and on weekends at first, complaining all the while. Then he'd drop an ultimatum on her: choose between the cycling and him, fully expecting her to choose him. No man could conceive of there being anything in a woman's life more important than himself.
And when she chose to pursue her dream, he'd walk. He'd be out the door faster than she could sprint across a finish line.
Stell leaned against the wall, almost afraid to answer the door. All she had to do was pretend she wasn't home--stand him up--and he wouldn't break her heart in a few weeks.
No, because she'd do the breaking herself today if she did. It was too late to protect herself. She was already in love with Adam and nothing she could do was going to change anything.
After a few deep, steadying breaths, she swung the door wide. "Right on time," she said, her pulse accelerating at the very sight of him in khaki walking shorts and a khaki-and-red Madras shirt. "C'mon in. Everything's ready."
"In a minute," he said, pulling her into his arms.
Stell felt her body molding itself to him. How quickly it had learned to do that. She lifted her face for his kiss.
"Mmmm," he purred, his tongue flickering along her lips. "I've missed you forever."
She drew his lower lip into her mouth, bit gently. The effect was immediate. His instant arousal kindled a fire within her. Writhing against him, she murmured, "Are you sure you want to go on a picnic?"
"No, but I think we'd better, don't you?"
"Why?"
"Because you went to all that trouble to fix it." All the time he was spreading his kisses across her cheeks, her brows, her temples. The faint, woodsy tang of his aftershave reached her nostrils, carrying his own scent with it, so that she inhaled a part of him, drawing it deep within her. "All I did was go to the deli," she admitted. "And we can eat anywhere."
"You promised me a picnic," he said, releasing her, turning her with a gentle grip on her shoulders. "So take me on a picnic."
His smile promised her more than a picnic before the day was over. Stell walked ahead of him into the kitchen. "Okay, but if it rains, remember whose idea it was to go."
"It won't rain."
"We're in Oregon. How can you say that?" She handed him the cooler full of soft drinks, wine, and two decadent slices of cappuccino cheesecake.
He picked up the picnic basket she indicated. "Easy. I just open my mouth and the words spill out." He winked at her. "It's supposed to clear off this afternoon."
"That's what they always say. And you know how often they are wrong." Knowing he was behind her, she deliberately swung her hips in a sassy sway. She'd deliberately worn clinging knit shorts. "Would you like to make a bet on the possibility of rain today?"
"Not on your life!" Adam took the basket from her while she stopped to lock her front door. "Stay there. I'll be right back."
She didn't. As soon as the door was secure, she started down the front steps, wondering how long it would be before her hip didn't send harsh reminders that stairs were not its favorite things.
"I told you to stay there, dammit." He swung her over his shoulder. "Are you always this stubborn?"
"Put me down!" She pounded on his hips, gasping even as she laughed. "Darn it, Adam! Put me down!" Her middle was across his shoulder, the breath jolting out of her with each step he took.
He swatted her bottom. "Quiet, woman! Behave yourself."
"Adam, if you don't put me down this inst--" The world revolved around her as he swung her to the ground, held her for a moment while she caught her breath and the world quit spinning.
"You're down. Shall we go?" He bowed as he swung the door open for her. His eyes were gleaming and his mouth twitching. This was the same man she had, just a few weeks ago, thought of as being overly serious? He had to be a Gemini.
Once more Adam drove out the old Columbia Gorge Highway. Stell sat quietly beside him, watching the easy way he handled the powerful car, admiring the way his pale eyebrows caught the sunlight, studying the incredibly complex convolutions of his ears, liking everything about him. Taken a little at a time, his looks were unusual, but not spectacular, sort of a younger, softer Clint Eastwood. The indentations in his cheeks were too long to be called dimples, but they served the same purpose, making his smile heart-meltingly sweet. His eyes crinkled almost closed when he smiled, too. All in all, she thought he was the most handsome man she'd ever met.
The sexiest, too. She reached across the car and rested her hand on his bare thigh. Under her touch, the muscles tensed, tightened. She grinned at the twitch of his lips, knowing full well what she'd done to him. He couldn't touch her, either, without her body warming in anticipation. Leaning back, she almost purred with pleasure. Today she wouldn't think about the future. Today she'd simply enjoy Adam, live only for the moment. And whatever happened, someday she'd look back and be glad she had lived these wonderful hours, these halcyon days with him.
Chapter Eight
PRIME (pronounced 'preem'): a race within a race, with a prize for the first rider who covers a certain distance or reaches a certain point.
"Are we there yet?" she said, not opening her eyes, but feeling the car slow and turn.
"Almost. Hungry?"
"Starved." But not for food. Anticipation tingled through her, recalling Christmas eves and birthday mornings.
The sun filtered through the spring-green maple leaves, sparkled on
the water. Wahkeena Creek splashed and sang, its liquid sound disguising the white noise of the freeway, only a few hundred yards away.
They stood watching tons of water cascade down the steep, rocky channel. It was a sight that never failed to soothe Stell, yet today her feeling was one of excitement rather than ease.
"I want to walk up to the falls," she said. "Have you ever seen them up close?"
"Should you?" His hands were clasped loosely around her waist and his breath was warm on her neck. "I thought you weren't supposed to walk far."
"I'm up to a quarter-mile every day," she said, honestly proud of her accomplishment, but not mentioning that it was all on level ground. The trail didn't look all that steep, and it was paved.
What else she wanted to do would have to wait until they were alone. Today, her heart sang. Today, her body demanded.
He took her proffered hand. "I'm game. But we'll take it slow, okay?"
"We can stop if it gets too bad."
He slipped his arm around her waist. "Or I can carry you."
"No way! You're not slinging me over your shoulder again!"
He waggled his brows suggestively. "That wasn't quite what I had in mind."
"Hold that thought." Stell breathed deeply, feeling the clean, cool air flood her body and cleanse, filling her with scents of springtime. "First I want to work up an appetite."
A ground fire several years back had left tree trunks charred. Blackened patches of bark still showed here and there among the lush growth of ferns and low shrubs. Pink and white flowers peeked from the undergrowth, reminding her that nature never gives up, no matter how devastating the occurrence.
Neither would she.
By the time they reached the bridge overlooking Wahkeena Falls, the light had grown dim. Instead of sparkling in sunlight, the water was lead colored. The woods around them were dark, shadowy, and silent, and the air was damp, presaging rain. She shivered, wishing she'd brought jeans to slip into.
"What was that you said about a weather forecast?" Stell leaned slightly against Adam as she felt her way carefully back down the steep trail.