She dashed across the room and into his office. David caught his breath as the familiar smell of her perfume reached his nostrils. Stray curls escaped from the loose ponytail at the base of her neck framing her face in a fluffy ginger cloud.
“You look fabulous.” On her smile he added, “I’m obviously not working you hard enough.”
She crinkled her sun-kissed nose, and the flush on her cheeks deepened. “Bet you say that to all the girls.”
He managed to shrug. “Are we still on for dinner tonight?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“I’ll pick you up at eight.” When the time came, he’d let her go. For now, she was his.
• • •
Later that night, Leigh lay awake, cradled in David’s arms. She loved how small and delicate she felt surrounded by his muscular arms and sinewy body. They’d spent a perfect evening at Le Papillon talking and playing footsies under the table. David had ordered them steak au poivre avec frittes, a scrumptious pepper steak and fries that could rival any she’d had in the city. For dessert they’d taken their crèmes brûlées out to the terrace where they’d savored the sweet treat while taking in the breathtaking view of the rocky shoreline.
After their date he’d taken her back to his place and made love to her; whispering gentle words in her ears. He’d been so warm and caring she dared imagine herself staying. In Watford. With him.
David’s strong steady heartbeat soothed her, gently lulling her back to sleep. As she drifted, a thought nagged at her. Would David ever be willing to offer commitment? She couldn’t just drop everything on the off chance that he might some day reciprocate her feelings. She so wanted to believe he would. He’d shown her a side of his personality tonight she never imagined existed. The small town hoodlum she’d met when she was a teen had grown into a sexy and sophisticated man.
But that wasn’t the only revelation she’d had. Not only did David know French wine and cuisine, he’d seemed to be a regular at the elegant French restaurant. Jean-Pierre, the maître d’ had greeted him as one would an old friend, and she couldn’t help but wonder how many women David had wined and dined there before her.
David rolled over and pulled her into him. “Leigh.” Her whispered name on his breath made her heart skip a beat.
She searched his face in the bluish early morning light. “Are you awake?”
“Hmmm.” He drew her in closer, his arm thrown possessively around her waist.
“Star Media’s made another offer.” She held her breath and waited for his reaction. The steady rhythm of his mouthfuls of air on her neck told her he was sound asleep. “And I’m considering accepting.”
If it were only this easy to talk to him when he was awake. But, every time she mentioned Star Media, he clammed up and shut her out. He’d made it very clear that he didn’t want to discuss The Sun’s shaky future with her. He’d sooner take a pay cut than see the paper sold to the big media conglomerate. In the end, she’d avoided the topic altogether and decided to put off making a decision. She still had some time before The Sun legally became hers.
She continued whispering to his sleeping form. “You know, if I thought there might be a place for me here, a place for me in your life, I’d consider staying and making a go of this newspaper business.”
The morning cries of two song sparrows in the silence made her jump. Quickly, she checked David to make sure the sound hadn’t woken him. In the bluish light of dawn, he looked peaceful, almost angelic. His slow breath ebbed and flowed, confirming he still slept. A wave of relief swept over her, and she nestled her body in his.
• • •
David’s heart skipped a beat, and he snapped his eyes open. Leigh’s whispered admission hadn’t fallen into deaf ears. He forced himself to keep breathing steadily. Think. Don’t panic. Think. Despite his best intentions, a wave of anxiety coursed through his body.
She said she’d stay if there were to be a future between them. Otherwise, she’d leave and sell the paper. What kind of mess had he gotten himself into? Damn hormones. And damn Ben for having such a gorgeous daughter. Could he pretend to be in love with her long enough to get her to stay and fall in love with the paper and its townspeople? Could he be that callous? Of all the despicable things a man could do to a woman, that had to be the worst. Scarier still, was the thought that spending more time with Leigh didn’t seem to upset him as much as it should. In fact, it filled him with warmth and joy.
No way. He couldn’t possibly be thinking clearly with her warm silky breasts pressed against him. This dizzying, mind-boggling need to be with her had to be mere infatuation. Soon, all these feelings would fade away. They always did. David Stone and the words “settling down” didn’t belong together. He’d just have to think of another way to save the paper.
• • •
Leigh lay stretched out across her bed like a spoiled house cat. Another week of mornings had passed, each more perfect than the last. The aroma of fresh brewed coffee beckoned her to the kitchen. She threw on a rumpled shirt he’d left behind, breathing in his musky smell, and tiptoed out of the room, conscious of her downstairs neighbor. If Mrs. Deery heard her padding around she’d be at the door within minutes.
She crept across the wooden floor and peeked into the other room. A note taped to the percolator caught her attention. She immediately recognized David’s boxy masculine writing and smiled. Each day for the past week, she’d woken up to the smell of java and his words. The missive read, You looked so peaceful I didn’t have the heart to wake you. See you tonight. Wear something special. I’ve got a surprise for you. David
She glanced at the coffee maker’s luminous clock. Nine thirty. Good thing the paper was right around the corner. She might still have time to make it in on time for her ten o’clock.
Each workday became more and more difficult for her. Being around David all the time and not being able to touch him or acknowledge that there was something between them in public, was torture. What exactly was that something? She couldn’t tell. Apparently, neither could he. Whatever it was, in the end, they’d decided it was best to keep their liaison a secret.
Leigh poured herself a cup of the hot steamy brew cutting its bitterness with cream and brown sugar. No matter what kind of diet she was on, she refused to cut the sweet and fat from her morning routine. A girl had to be allowed some of life’s little pleasures. She grinned. Pleasure certainly wasn’t the thing missing from her existence right now. Her face grew hot at the thought of the heat and passion that took over when she and David touched. She lived for their time together and each night, she felt herself falling deeper in love with him. When time came to sell, she wasn’t sure how she’d tear herself away from him and the paper.
What else could she do? David hadn’t once mentioned love. In fact, he’d made it very clear there was nothing serious between them. She had to be realistic. Still, his actions betrayed his words. He spent every night in her arms and his days writing her little notes and funny e-mails. Those weren’t the actions of a man who just wanted to have fun, were they? Regardless, she had a responsibility to the town and the paper. Whether David wanted to admit it or not, The Sun’s deep financial troubles were more than they could handle, and selling might be the only way to save it.
Anguish ate at her, like constant and nagging heartburn. Selling the paper would mean a loss of editorial control and probable job cuts for some of the older staffers. But the Star Media rep had promised her that those affected by the changeover would be treated fairly and offered decent buy-outs. If, on the other hand, she kept the paper and failed to revitalize it, they might all lose their jobs and shirts in the process. She had to keep working on her prison exposé — consequences be damned.
Leigh threw open her closet door and surveyed her wardrobe. Wear something special. What was that supposed to mean? Men. The shrill cry of her
cell phone interrupted her train of thought.
She glanced at its luminous face. The call came from New York. “Leigh Cameron speaking.”
“Great news.” Jack’s familiar voice boomed from the tiny earpiece. “Management wants you to come in and interview for the position. How soon can you be here?”
• • •
“We’ll be there at six. Thank you.” David put the receiver down and smiled. He couldn’t wait to see the look of surprise on Leigh’s face. What could be more fun and romantic than a picnic in the clouds, while sipping champagne in the basket of a hot air balloon?
He glanced up to find her looking at him through the glass pane separating him from the Bull Pen. He’d closed the door to keep his plans for the evening from becoming fodder for the day’s water cooler gossip. He waved her in and smiled. “Close the door. The walls have ears.”
She failed to respond with her usual playfulness. In fact, she looked worried and a little pale. “I got a call from New York this morning.”
Concern knotted his stomach. With a deliberately casual movement, he turned and leaned back in his chair. “What’s new in the Big Apple?”
When she spoke again, her voice was gentle, almost a murmur. “I’ve been short-listed for the Arts and Entertainment Editor position at The Star — ”
“You mean Jack Lang’s job.”
His answer seemed to throw her off. “It’s not mine yet, but they’d like me to come in for a second interview.”
A tumble of confused thoughts and emotions assailed him. He’d managed to push away all thoughts of her life in New York. He’d hoped, against all odds, that she’d stay. The reminder she had a job, friends, and another existence tore through his chest like a knife wound. He swallowed and forced a good-natured smile. “That’s great. Have fun,” he said, with a little too much conviction.
Her smile wavered. “I also thought it’d be as good a time as any to pick up a few of my things. I hadn’t planned on staying this long.” Two adorable dimples flanked her mouth and she flushed.
She wouldn’t be bringing more things back to Watford, if she weren’t planning on staying at least a while longer. The tension in his chest eased up a little.
“I’ll be back tomorrow night.”
“Sure. Take two days if you want.”
She blew him a kiss and left. He pretended to catch it, then stared at his hand. Why did he have to be so darn smitten with her?
• • •
Leigh opened the window a crack despite the torrential downpour. The damp air inside the Mustang was stale, and she strained to see through the condensation fogging the windshield. She’d decided to drive back to Watford after her interview rather than spend another night in New York. Jack had been disappointed, but she’d reasoned she couldn’t leave Zeus with Mrs. Deery for another night.
Deep down she knew what a lame excuse that was. In fact, she was fairly certain Jack hadn’t bought a word of it. She didn’t care. A warm glow flowed through her as she thought of David’s strong arms pulling her into his embrace. Suddenly, getting the job at The New York Star didn’t seem half as important as getting back to Watford to spend the night with him. An eighteen-wheeler passed her on the left, his backsplash cutting all visibility and interrupting her daydream. She wouldn’t get the job or David if she ended up careening into a ditch.
The water and mud cleared to reveal she was still on the right side of the highway. She heaved a sigh of relief and focused her attention on the white line dotting the way ahead. The rain came down in sheets, each gust of wind pushing a stream of muddy water through the crack in the window. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand and squinted to make out the numbers on the road sign coming up on her right. Boston 10, Gloucester 27, Watford 40. One more hour, and they’d be together again.
She’d aced her interview. Jack and The Star’s managing editor had thrown dozens of questions at her, testing everything from her knowledge of music and art, to her ability to manage personnel. She’d epitomized self-confidence and aplomb. The funny thing was, her composure hadn’t been an act, she really hadn’t felt anything. No stress. No trepidation. No hunger. She didn’t want the job anymore. She wanted to stay in Watford with David.
She marveled at the thought. Mere weeks ago, she couldn’t think of a worse fate. Now, she was ready to walk out on the life she’d carefully orchestrated for herself, for one man’s dark enigmatic gaze and the day to day of a small daily. The sound of gravel under her wheels jerked her thoughts back to the road ahead and sent a shot of adrenaline coursing through her veins. In her stupor, she’d started going onto the shoulder of the highway. She jerked the car to the left, sending a shower of dirt into the ditch as her back wheels spun out. A rivulet of cold sweat trickled down her spine. There’d be no New York or Watford if she didn’t start paying attention to the way ahead.
How would David react if he knew how she felt? They hadn’t spoken of the future. In fact, he’d seemed a little too eager to see her go. She pressed on, the tick-swoosh of the windshield wipers keeping the beat with the garbled music coming from her car radio.
As she neared Watford, the sky began to clear. The setting sun peeked through the clouds, its warmth like a ray of light from the heavens. Funny, how the weather always seemed better here. The rain had cleared right around the same time when she’d driven up to Watford for her father’s funeral. Only everything was different now. For the first time since his death, thoughts of Ben Cameron brought a smile to her lips. Maybe the old sod knew what he was doing after all. If it weren’t for him, she never would have — ” What exactly was she doing? Throwing it all away to gaze into one man’s deep mysterious eyes? Her vision clouded with the memory of those blue-black pools of secrecy. With one glance, David reached into her thoughts and made her knees turn to Jell-O.
To hell with tomorrow and the day after. Tonight, she’d be back in his arms, and they’d make love until the wee hours of the morning.
Finally, the Watford Main Street exit appeared in the distance. She had to stop herself from stepping on the gas. Almost there. Leigh rolled down her window to breathe in the crisp coastal air. A light breeze filled the car, lifting her spirits. To her right, the black gabled roofs of the town dotted the horizon, while the wind swayed the salt marsh’s long beach grass on her left. On a whim, she headed toward the marina. It was the perfect time to go sailing, and she had a feeling she’d find David there.
Leigh drove through the town, smiling at tourists and passers-by alike. If it weren’t for a few puddles and the twigs and leaves left behind by the morning’s inclement weather, she would have thought the storm had missed them altogether. The waterfront crawled with people, young and old, milling around the old train station’s farmers’ market. Local artists and merchants peddled their wares and chanted like carnies in an effort to grab potential customers’ attention. Their voices blended together, an anthem of hope for prosperity.
“Hello, Miss Leigh!” The florist from whom she bought lilies every Saturday, waved. “I’ve got beautiful pink ones today. Save you a bunch?”
“Thank you Mr. Wilson! I’ll be by in a little while.” She waved and smiled at the gregarious old man. She was finally beginning to understand what her father had seen in the place years ago, when he’d decided to move there to stay.
• • •
Leigh gazed over the water. Sails dotted the horizon like silvery thorns on the water’s surface. The cries of seagulls melded with the sound of the waves hitting the docks and rocking the boats moored to its sides. In the distance, a fishing boat traced a path through the ocean, its waves a frothy ripple soon to reach them. She walked along the pier, trying to remember where old Bruce had berthed his boat when she was a girl. David mentioned he’d bought Bruce’s old sailboat a few years ago. No doubt, Serendipity still docked in the same slip.
She looked t
hrough the sea of masts to count the docks. At the mouth of the harbor, the waning light tinted the waves with a warm orangey glow and already, the vague outline of the moon peaked through the horizon.
“Come here often?” David’s warm baritone said behind her.
“Only when I’m looking to pick up a sexy sailor.” She turned to face him. “Know anyone?”
“I might know someone you’d like.” He reached for her and pulled her into his arms. “You’re back soon.”
He was so close she felt the brush of his warm breath on her lips. The fatigue caused by her seven-hour drive disappeared. “You sound surprised.” She pressed her lips against his, and nibbled on his bottom lip.
He pulled away chuckling and shook his head. His laughter caressed her like a warm summer breeze. It was low. Throaty. Hungry. It broke, and his eyes smoldered. He wound his hands gently through her hair and traced the soft fullness of her lips with his tongue.
Her knees went weak, and for a moment she completely forgot where they were. “I came back as soon as I could.”
“I thought you’d be out celebrating your new job with your New York pals.” He raked her body with his gaze and reclaimed her mouth, his embrace hard and demanding.
The heat of his violent, intense kisses set her body aflame. Even though she now recognized the fires of passion that coursed through her veins when their bodies met, they still overwhelmed her. Never before had she felt so alive and wanton. It excited and freed her. She returned his kisses with a renewed ardor and reveled in the intoxicating taste of his mouth.
David reached under her blouse and put his hand on the small of her back. Her flesh tingled with the heat of his touch. He pulled her in close and brought his mouth to her ear. “Come with me.”
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