by Tami Hoag
Lynn looked at him sideways, naturally resistant to being bullied. She told herself she would have walked away from him if it weren’t for the fact that he had his arms around her … and his thighs pressed to hers … and that adorable sparkle in his eyes …
A date. One date. He wasn’t asking for the moon. He wasn’t promising it, either. She closed her eyes for a second and thought back to the way she’d felt as he’d held her in the moonlight by the lake. She ached to feel that way again—whether she deserved it or not. They could have their date. They could have their night together. As long as she knew in her heart that a night or two was all they would have.
“All right, Senator,” she conceded, giving him a smile that was unintentionally wistful and a little bit sad. “It’s a date.”
Friday was a long time coming.
Lynn had her promised talk with Regan and was less than pleased with the results. Regan accused her once again of caring more about Horizon than her. She flatly refused to reveal her whereabouts the night of the vandalism and was openly hostile to Officers Reuter and Briggs. They scowled at her with jaundiced eyes, but as they had no witnesses and could produce no physical evidence linking Regan with the crime, they had to give her the benefit of the doubt. They made it clear, however, that she was their prime suspect and that they would be keeping tabs on her. This news went over like the proverbial lead balloon, sending Regan into a tantrum. The situation was not improved by the announcement from the Horizon staff that Regan’s nocturnal forays would stop.
The girl was furious, but Lynn detected a hint of something else in her mood beneath all the bluster. It might have been panic of a sort. She couldn’t quite tell, couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she would have bet her last dime that Regan’s nighttime activities consisted of something more than sitting around the Peace Plaza fountain harassing passersby.
She fully expected Regan to rebel and try to leave, but no rebellion ever came. After refusing dinner, Regan spent the evening sequestered in her room in utter, absolute silence.
As Erik had predicted, the News 10 crew, as well as a full complement of newspaper people, had arrived in the neighborhood the morning after the garage incident. Elliot Graham stayed home from work for the occasion, mustering his troops behind him as he stood before the camera and made angry declarations against “the terrible tide of violence against decent people.”
It was nearly enough to incite Lynn to violence. The man made it sound as if people weren’t safe in their beds at night. And the worst part of it was, there seemed to be more and more people siding with him. The day shift of demonstrators on the sidewalk increased by a dozen or more and the phone rang off the hook with calls from angry citizens blaming Horizon House residents for everything from trampling flower beds to perpetuating the national debt.
By the time Friday night rolled around, Lynn was more than ready for a break from it all. As dedicated as she was to Horizon, the constant strain of the last two weeks was beginning to wear on her. The idea of being swept away from it all for a night held so much appeal it almost scared her.
She dressed for the date with too much care. A very bad sign, the cynic in her sneered as she stood before the mirror in her bedroom. She had fussed too much with her hair, arranging her long, silky black tresses with a pair of mother-of-pearl combs and spritzing her bangs into place. She had taken too long applying her makeup with the painstaking care of an artist, playing up her eyes, accenting her cheekbones, painting her lips a warm, delicious pink. The dress she had chosen was a little too nice—emerald-green silk, sleeveless with a full skirt. Gold-rimmed mother-of-pearl buttons marched down the front from throat to hem and a wide woven belt emphasized her narrow waist.
“You look like you’re expecting a proposal,” she accused.
Her feelings were a complicated tangle of disgust and dread as she turned from the mirror toward the closet in search of an outfit that didn’t look so … so … hopeful. She cringed at the word. This was a date, a night out, a meal with a little interaction afterward, that was all. There was nothing to be hopeful about, she told herself as she flung a blue cotton sundress onto the bed and turned back to the closet to dig for her espadrilles.
The doorbell rang when she was up to her elbows in shoes. Cursing under her breath, she stumbled out of the closet and picked her way across the bedroom, tiptoeing over the discarded dresses that littered the floor. She pulled the door shut behind her and took a deep breath, then forced herself to walk calmly across the living room as the bell chimed again.
Erik stood in the hall looking devastatingly handsome and clutching a small nosegay of violets. He wore a crisp blue dress shirt with a trendy tie and neatly pressed, pleated gray trousers. Lynn actually felt his gaze pour down over her, from the top of her head to the tips of her stockinged toes. Goose bumps raced down her arms as a budding warmth opened in the center of her like a new rose.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, that wise, secretive smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.
Lynn’s heart did a somersault in her chest. “You’re early,” she blurted ungraciously.
Erik grinned at the accusation as he stepped into the apartment. “I didn’t want to give you a chance to duck out on me.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she said dryly, taking the delicate tissue-wrapped flowers from his grasp. She stepped around the service bar into the tiny yellow kitchen and reached up into the cupboard for a vase. “And thanks for the flowers,” she added softly, more touched by the gesture than she wanted to be.
“They were growing wild in the woods behind my house,” Erik said. He roamed the living room, searching for personal touches, things that might give him more clues to the lady he found himself falling so hard for. There wasn’t much. A nubby-weave, oatmeal-colored sofa and chair. A coffee table buried under neatly arranged stacks of file folders. A wall unit crammed with textbooks, a stereo, and three dying plants in ceramic pots. A framed photo on the television showing her with Lillian, Martha, and a crop of Horizon alumni on a camping trip. He touched a finger to the dusty frame, then turned and shot her a grin. “I’m pretty sure I broke the law picking them.”
Lynn gasped and pressed a hand to her heart. “Senator, such scandalous behavior! I hope no one saw you.”
“Me too. I was out there in my underwear while my pants were in the dryer.”
She laughed, and he felt that warm sliding feeling in his belly. God, she was beautiful. The dress made her eyes look even greener than emeralds. It clung in all the right places, enhancing her femininity. Her face lit up with that inner fire that made her so vibrant, so tenacious, and Erik wanted to take her in his arms right there and then. It took an effort to rein in his desire.
“I’m not too worried,” he said, his voice a little huskier than usual as his gaze lingered on her breasts. “I live out in Buckthorn. I think maybe a couple of squirrels saw me.” He pulled his eyes off her and gestured to the room at large. “So do I get the grand tour?”
“You’re looking at it,” Lynn said. She shoved a stack of unopened mail aside and set the flowers in the center of the counter. “You can see the whole apartment from where you’re standing.”
“I can’t see the bedroom,” he said, his gaze sliding back to her, dark and glowing with insinuation.
Another burst of warmth showered through Lynn. “Trust me, you don’t want to. It looks like a bomb went off at Casual Corner.”
“I’ll close my eyes.”
“Then you won’t see much.”
“I told you before,” he said with a devilish smile, “I’m good with my hands.”
“Forget it, hotshot,” Lynn drawled, grabbing up her keys. “You promised me a night on the town.”
“I coerced you into a night on the town.”
She shot him a scowl. “Split hairs.”
They locked the apartment and walked out of the building into the warm summer night, angling across the parking lot toward Erik’s Thun
derbird.
“I need to stop by the house for two seconds before we go,” Lynn said as she settled into the car’s plush seat and Erik slid behind the wheel. He gave her a look of strained patience. “I’m sorry!” she said defensively. “I forgot my purse at work.”
“Two seconds,” he intoned in an ominous voice. “And you have to make a pledge not to spend the whole night worrying about what might be going on in your absence.”
“I promise,” she muttered grudgingly.
“I’ll hold you to it,” he declared. Then that sweet sexy smile claimed his features and he winked at her. “Better yet, I’ll hold you to me.”
He followed her into the house. Lynn had assured him no one was home. It was their monthly movie night. Lillian and Martha had chaperoned the five girls to the Barclay Square six-plex for Kevin Costner’s latest. But he followed her anyway.
“It’s in my office,” she said as they stepped into the front hall. “I’ll be two seconds.”
“Uh-huh.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re awfully suspicious for a Democrat.”
“Yeah, well, we haven’t been the same since that Watergate thing, you know.”
Lynn chuckled and turned to head down the hall to the cram-packed disaster area that would become her office in an eon or two, but her step faltered as she drew even with the living room doorway. From the corner of her eye she caught sight of a figure on the sofa, and her heart vaulted into her throat as she whirled around.
“Who’s there?” she demanded, hoping sheer terror didn’t ruin the effect.
A sniffle was her only answer. She ventured inside, squinting in the gloom. The shades had been drawn and the lamps left off, leaving the room covered with heavy shadows. She automatically turned on the first table lamp she came to, illuminating a head of golden curls tucked back against the couch.
“Christine?” she asked with concern. “Honey, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you at the movies with everybody else?”
The girl looked up at her from where she sat on the sofa, curled into a ball of misery. Her nose and eyes were wet and drippy, and her mouth trembled. “I—I c-called my dad, like y-you said I sh-should.”
Lynn sank down beside her, her heart sinking even farther. She reached out and brushed a sprig of damp curls back from Christine’s cheek. She had been counseling the girl to take the first step in making amends with her father and stepmother, who had literally thrown her out into the street when she had become pregnant. Lynn had spoken with Mr. Rickman a number of times herself, trying to impart to him Christine’s feelings of abandonment when he had remarried shortly after her mother’s death, feelings that had driven her to seek out love from another source. Lynn had felt he was ready to talk to his daughter again, but she had intended to be present to moderate that first attempt at reconciliation, in case something went awry. Obviously, something had.
“Oh, honey,” she murmured. “It didn’t go very well, did it?”
Christine’s eyes welled up. The next second she was in Lynn’s arms, sobbing her heart out. Lynn had all she could do to keep from crying along. She’d been in Christine’s shoes. She knew what it was like to be alone and pregnant. She knew the hurt of being cut off from her family and abandoned by someone she had thought loved her. She held Christine Rickman and stroked her hair and felt her own heart break all over again as Christine’s pain came pouring out.
“Why does it have to be so hard?” the girl asked, her voice choked with torment.
“I don’t know, sweetie,” Lynn whispered, wishing with all her heart that she did. “If I had the answer to that one, I could make the world a lot better place, couldn’t I?”
It was a long time before the tears were spent and they had talked everything out. Lynn listened with patience, offering sympathy and a warm hug. Finally, Christine sat back and sniffled, dabbing at her nose with the last of the tissues from the box. She looked at Lynn sideways, her mouth twisting with chagrin.
“I ruined your date.” She reached out a tentative hand and touched a big wet spot on the shoulder of Lynn’s silk dress. “I ruined your dress.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Lynn said with a soft smile. Inwardly her heart gave a lurch as she remembered Erik. A glance at the clock told her her “two seconds” had stretched into an hour and a half. He would be furious with her. Well, tough spit. Christine’s tears were far more important than dinner and dancing, and if he thought differently, he could just take a hike. “Believe it or not,” she teased, “I’ve had dates before and I’ll have dates again. Are you going to be all right?”
The girl shrugged, one hand rubbing her swollen belly through her oversize T-shirt.
Lynn caught the gesture and knew the uncertainty that went along with it. She gave Christine’s hand a squeeze. “I’ll be there when you need me, honey.”
“I know. Thanks.”
“Why don’t you go up to bed?” Lynn suggested with a soft smile. “Using a whole box of tissues is exhausting work.”
When Christine was safely upstairs and settled in bed, Lynn retrieved her purse and shut off the living room lamp. She wandered to the front door, wondering if she would have to call a cab to get home or if she should just crash on the couch here. Looking out onto the front step, she saw she would have to do neither. Erik was sitting there with his back against the stair railing, gazing up at the sky as the first stars made their appearance on the night’s dark stage.
In that instant she fell in love with him. She had been teetering on the brink for days, but in that second she fell over the edge. In that instant he turned and looked up at her with all that wisdom in his eyes and the softest, warmest smile on his lips, and her heart was lost—for all the good it would do her, she thought sadly.
“Is everything all right?” he asked, his husky voice coming to her just above the sounds of the evening and the faint strains of the organ being played at St. Stephen’s.
“No.” She sat down on the step, her full skirt draping down to brush her feet as she wrapped her arms around her knees. She looked at him sideways and managed a smile. “But she’ll make it another day. We’ll all get by and go on.”
“She’s got a tough row to hoe.”
“Yeah, I know,” Lynn said, staring out into the gathering darkness for a long moment, lost in memories. She shook off the misty haze and turned toward Erik again with a wry smile. “I figured you’d be long gone by now.”
“Shows how much you know. I’m getting this date if it kills me.”
“We’ve lost our reservation,” she felt compelled to point out as Erik stood, taking her hand and drawing her up with him.
“Hey,” he said with a swagger in his step as they started down the sidewalk toward his car. The crinkles beside his eyes gave him away. “I’m a state senator,” he declared with mock arrogance. “I’ve got pull in this town. I can get us a table at the most exclusive place in southern Minnesota.”
They dined on Colonel Sanders’s finest, seated at a redwood table with a view of the stars. It was indeed exclusive. It was the only table in the house—or rather, out of the house. They had picked up their dinner and driven out to Erik’s home in the secluded Buckthorn subdivision, where the houses were tucked back among the trees on wooded acreages. Erik’s house was simple in design, a rambling tri-level structure sided in rough-sawn cedar. It blended perfectly with its surroundings, giving a sense of belonging and comfort.
“Do you like my choice of night spots?” Erik asked, his voice soft and smoky.
A slow smile curved Lynn’s mouth. “Very much. The food was average, but the atmosphere doesn’t leave much to be desired.”
Except you. The words remained unspoken, but vibrated in the air between them, electric and magnetic. Their gazes caught and held and Lynn had the distinct feeling that the thought was a shared one, humming on a common wavelength, that their minds were connecting as their thoughts roused longings in them to join physically. The idea seemed almost more intimate than the
act, and she pulled her gaze away from his as a delicious warmth spread through her.
She sat back against the cushions of her chair and gave herself the opportunity to appreciate her surroundings. The woods beyond the lawn were chirping with nightlife. The sky above them was a vast black bowl studded with pinpoints of diamond light. They sat on the wide deck at the back of the house with soft music floating out through the open windows. Peace was a softness in the air around them, the lack of traffic noise, the rustle of the trees.
For the first time in weeks Lynn felt herself really relaxing. She felt as if this place were a safe, secluded haven where the problems of the world couldn’t touch her. Foolishness, that cynical voice inside her said, but for once she shushed it. She took a deep breath of the fresh night air and exhaled slowly, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back.
Erik took a sip of his wine and studied her in silence, enjoying the chance to look his fill. She sat in profile to him, her night-black hair falling in a silken cascade behind her, the slim ivory column of her throat arched. Her breasts thrust out gently, nipples budding beneath the sheer fabric of her dress.
Desire stirred deeply inside him. Tonight. Tonight he would make her his, in the oldest sense of the term. Once again the thought brought on a strong surge of some primal instinct that had lain dormant inside him. He had never thought of sex as a claiming, never viewed it as such a critical step in his relationship with a woman. Not that he usually thought of sex in casual terms. He was a responsible man, but this was different. And the difference was Lynn. With her it would be more than just sex—it would be a surrender, an acceptance of him that went deeper than the purely physical, a letting down of that invisible barrier she protected herself with. The prospect set off a tremor inside Erik that was equal parts awe and fear.
He pushed himself slowly to his feet and held out his hand to her as he rounded the table. His gaze caught hers and drew her to him as surely as his touch. “Dance with me,” he said.