He extracted some bills and offered them to her, but she shook her head. "No, that's all right. I'm not very hungry—I had a late lunch. I'd rather stay with you."
He put his arm around her waist and hugged her to his side before releasing her. "I'm glad," he said as they headed for the open staircase in the middle of the room. "I promise we'll have dinner when this is over."
There were three state senators sitting at the table in the front of the comfortably filled room. Each senator had a bill pending in the legislature and was there to discuss it. Elyse had known from news reports that there was a gun-control bill up for consideration, but she hadn't realized that her senator, Clint Sterling, had written it.
Gun control was a highly controversial subject, and although Clint repeatedly stated the legislation was aimed at handguns, the so-called Saturday night specials, and wouldn't interfere with the hunters or antique gun collectors, the questions and comments became loud and threatening and finally had to be cut off so the last speaker could make his presentation.
Clint handled himself with politeness and poise, but Elyse was shaken. This wasn't just polite haggling, and a couple of the men had gotten ugly. Was Clint in actual physical danger? There were a lot of crazies running around loose. The thought struck something akin to terror in her.
Afterward refreshments were served in another room, and soft music was played on a portable stereo. The senator from the Bay area was alone, but the one from Sacramento was accompanied by his wife, a pretty woman in her early thirties.
At first Clint kept Elyse by his side, but he was so besieged by people wanting to talk to him that eventually she wandered away and he didn't seem to notice. She stopped by the refreshment table, placed a few hors d'oeuvres on a small plate and found a corner where she could watch without being obvious.
She was joined a short time later by the wife of the senator from Sacramento, a tall willowy blonde named Reba Ogden, with the bearing of a model and an instinct for survival in the political jungle.
"You look lonely and a little frightened," Reba said with a sympathetic smile. "Is this your first date with a politician running for office?"
Elyse returned the smile nervously. "Is it that obvious?"
"Only to a seasoned veteran like me. Clint's a nice guy. Have you known him long?"
Elyse was a political innocent. All she knew about state politics was what she occasionally read in the headlines or saw in a quick news story on television. She hadn't even recognized Clint, and he represented her district, so she was uneasy about answering questions about her association with him. One thing she did know, and that was that simple statements could be twisted all out of proportion.
"Only a couple of weeks," she answered, being deliberately vague. "We're not dating. He's a… um… friend of the family."
"Oh, then you're a volunteer?"
Elyse hadn't the faintest idea what Reba was talking about. "Volunteer?"
The other woman laughed. "No, I can see you're not," she said dryly. "I was talking about a campaign volunteer. People who help out during elections."
Elyse felt the warm flush of embarrassment. "Oh, I guess you can see how naive I am," she said in a small voice. "I'm not even interested in politics. I'd be way out of my element in Clint's life."
Reba eyed her warily. "In that case you'd better stop looking at him with your heart in those big beautiful eyes, or everyone's going to know how you feel about him."
There was kindness in her tone, but her words scorched Elyse with humiliation, and in an involuntary reflex she squeezed her eyes shut and put her hand to her mouth. "I… I don't know what you mean… I wasn't…"
She felt the older woman touch her arm. "Hey, I didn't mean to upset you. Oh, God, you're even younger than I thought. Come on, let's get out of here. I'm sorry. I only meant to warn you." She took Elyse's arm and hurried her toward the door.
They found a comfortable lounge in the area at the top of the stairway, and Elyse dropped down on the sofa, her face still flaming with embarrassment.
Reba sat beside her. "Look," she said, "I'm really sorry. I'm used to senators' wives and girlfriends who are veterans of the wars, so to speak. I didn't realize you were so sensitive. If you're going to be seen with Clinton Sterling you'll have to toughen up a little."
Reba's no-nonsense but caring tone calmed Elyse a little, and she took a deep breath and tried to relax. "I'm not going to be seen with Clint, Mrs. Ogden—"
"Reba," the other insisted.
"All right, Reba. Clint really is just a friend. You see, his brother and my sister are dating, but there's nothing between Clint and me. He just brought me tonight be-cause he figured I was the right age to translate in case he didn't understand the current college slang."
Reba grunted. "I'm sorry to hear that. Clint needs a woman of his own, preferably a wife. I suppose you've heard about Dinah."
Elyse blinked. "Dinah?"
"Dinah Jefferson… Oh, damn! Me and my big mouth." Reba held up her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Never mind. We'd better be getting back. Those men of ours will be wondering what happened to us."
"Clint's not…"
"Your man." Reba finished the sentence for her. "So you've said, but methinks the lady doth protest too much. Clint may be a tad shy when it comes to marriage vows, but he's not a monk, so don't tell me he thinks of you as a little sister. He may be reticent, but he's not blind."
They returned to the rapidly clearing room, and Clint excused himself from the cluster of students around him and hurried toward them. "So you're the one who stole my girl," he said to Reba as he tucked Elyse's hand in the crook of his arm. "I was afraid she'd run off with one of these lecherous male students."
The warmth from his touch wafted all the way up her arm as Reba laughed. "She's just spent the past twenty minutes trying to convince me she's not your girl."
Clint looked down at Elyse, and there was amusement in his green eyes. "In that case I'll have to think of a way to convince her."
"Do that," Reba said, then turned away to join her husband.
Clint glanced at the refreshment table. "Did you get something to eat?"
"Uh-hum," she said. "Did you?"
"No. We'll stop somewhere on the way home and have dinner." He glanced at his watch and frowned. "I hope it's not too late."
Elyse had a thought. "If an omelet, hash browns and muffins is enough for you, I could fix them at home."
He looked pleased. "Are you sure you don't mind?"
"Actually, I'd prefer it. We've been surrounded by people all evening. I'd like to have you alone for a change."
The words were hardly out before she blushed a deep red.
Clint's eyes darkened with pleasure, and he pressed her arm against his side. "Keep talking like that," he murmured huskily, "and I'm going to kiss you right here in front of all these people."
Their gazes held, and she knew her heart was once more in her eyes for him to see. She looked down, and in doing so inadvertently brushed her cheek against his sleeve.
"Come on," he said raggedly, "let's go."
Without saying goodbye to anybody he turned and guided her out of the room.
The lobby of the main floor was brightly lit, as was the parking lot. Clint walked Elyse to her elderly Ford Mustang and saw her safely inside. "Drive carefully," he said through the open window. "I'll be right behind you."
Traffic on the freeway was light, and it took less than forty-five minutes to get to Placerville. Elyse drove her car into the driveway, leaving Clint to park at the curb, then met him at the front porch. She handed him the key, and he unlocked the door and pushed it open.
The hallway was dark, but a light shone from the family room at the end. Clint shut the door and took Elyse into his arms. "I've been wanting to do this ever since you walked into the student union building," he whispered huskily as his face lowered to hers.
He covered her mouth with his, and her palms slid up his arms and shoulders before l
inking around his neck. His arms tightened around her, and the tip of his tongue slowly outlined her lips until they parted slightly. But instead of pursuing his advantage, he placed tiny kisses at either side of her mouth, then trailed more down the side of her throat, lingering just above her white collar.
Elyse shivered, and her fingers stroked through his thick black hair as she tilted her head to give him easier access. The darkness that surrounded them offered an intimate privacy and she melted against him, willing him to continue the sweet seduction with his mouth, his hands, which caressed the small of her back and his long hard body, which fit so hungrily against hers.
"There were times tonight," he murmured as he lifted his head and rubbed his face in her hair, "when I'd gladly have given up my seat in the Senate to be a private citizen again—to be able to kiss my lovely lady in the middle of a crowded room without having to worry about exposing her to unpleasant gossip. I didn't even dare hold your hand, and my fingers itched to touch you."
His soft-spoken words left her giddy with happiness. "Really?" she asked, a touch of wonder in her tone.
"You mean you didn't feel it?" He sounded disappointed. "It seemed to me we were generating enough electricity to set off sparks."
"Oh, I felt it," she hastened to reassure him, "but I didn't know if you did. You seemed so comfortable and at ease. I was afraid it was one-sided."
He kissed the top of her head. "Well, now you know better, don't you?"
She tipped her face up to him. "Yes, and I'm awfully glad."
He groaned and hugged her closer. "Oh, God, sweetheart, you're such a temptation. I think we'd better go fix those omelets before we get sidetracked any further."
Just then Liz's voice called from the family room. "Elyse, is that you?"
Simultaneously the light went on in the hall and Liz appeared in the doorway. Elyse tried to pull away from Clint, but he held her fast.
"Oh, sorry," Liz said, and turned away.
"That's okay," Clint called after her. "We need a chaperon. Stay and have a bite to eat with us."
Elyse cooked the omelet, Clint fried the hash browns and Liz baked the muffins, while Elyse and Clint told Liz about their evening at the college.
"I knew gun control was a controversial subject, but I hadn't realized it was quite so explosive," Elyse said, and again felt the quiver of fear that had attacked her earlier. "The cords actually stood out on that one man's neck he was so mad—and his language…" She left that to Liz's imagination.
Clint reached over and took Elyse's hand. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have invited you along. I forgot that you aren't used to that sort of thing."
She squeezed his fingers. "Oh, no, I'm glad you took me, but are you sure you're safe? A couple of those men seemed pretty violent."
She saw Clint and Liz exchange a look before he answered. "People like that are mostly talk. They blow off a lot of steam, and you can be sure they're not going to vote for me, but they're relatively harmless."
The qualifying "mostly" and "relatively" were noted by Elyse, but she didn't pursue the subject. She didn't want Clint thinking of her as Liz's little sister who had to be protected from life's harsher realities.
Clint adroitly changed the subject. "How's the teaching going, Liz? I imagine most of the students are afflicted with spring fever."
Liz made a face. "Aren't they always? It lasts all year long, but from now to the end of the term I'll be lucky if they just study enough to pass their exams."
Clint chuckled. "How true. Do you like teaching?"
"I love it," Liz said. "I think I was born to be a teacher. It's such a challenge, and so rewarding when I can get a student excited about learning. I've had young people who started high school as marginal students and graduated four years later in the top ten percent of their class." She shook her head. "Obviously I can't take all the credit for that, but somewhere along the line they were touched with a thirst for knowledge. It's exhilarating to think I had a small part in it."
"I'm sure your part was a large one," Clint said. "I only wish Paul had gotten a teacher like you. He thinks studying's a waste of time. Thank God he's exceptionally bright, or he'd never have gotten through law school. I'm not sure he's ever going to settle down and pass the bar."
A look of indignation crossed Liz's face. "Paul is much more serious than you give him credit for, Senator. He's been studying hard for that exam. I've been helping him when I can, and he's making a lot of progress."
Clint's eyes widened with surprise. "I didn't know that. We don't see a lot of each other, but up until a few months ago he wasn't doing much of anything but goofing off. If he's studying now, then it's got to be your good influence."
Liz blushed. "I've never known him as anything but a responsible adult. He told me about the woman he'd been seeing who caused such a furor when they broke up. He's really been trying to do the right thing since then. Give him a little credit, Clint. He's so anxious to please you."
"I'll be happy to," Clint answered, "just as soon as he shows me he's earned it." His expression softened. "You're a special lady, Liz, just as he said you were. I hope he can convince you to marry him."
Liz's earlier blush deepened. "He can't," she said curtly, and pushed back her chair. "If you'll excuse me, I have an early parent conference in the morning, so I'm going to bed."
Clint stood. "Liz—" he began, but she was already out of the room. "Damn." he muttered as he sat down again. "I didn't mean to upset her."
"It's not that," Elyse assured him as he once more took her hand. "This is something she'll have to work out for herself. She loves Paul very much, but she has this deep-seated prejudice about marrying a man so much younger. She's convinced he's merely infatuated with the novelty of dating an older woman and that before long a younger one will come along and capture his fancy."
Clint frowned. "Ordinarily, I couldn't assure her that she's wrong. Paul has never been attracted to one girl for long. He likes playing the field. On the other hand, he's never before asked a woman to marry him. I don't think he'd do that unless he knew he loved her and wanted to settle down."
His thumb traced small circles in Elyse's palm. "Liz is probably wise to be apprehensive. Not because of the age difference, but because of the difference in their personalities. Maybe she's not sure she wants to marry an overgrown boy in the hope that he'll eventually grow up and accept the responsibilities of a man."
Elyse's fingers curled over Clint's adventurous thumb in an effort to halt the restless message its scrawlings were sending to the rest of her body. "As Liz said, she's never seen that side of Paul. Neither of us has. He's always been dependable, attentive and loving with her. I think it was love at first sight for both of them."
"I hope so," Clint said as he raised her hand to his mouth. "Liz is the best thing that ever happened to my brother." He planted tiny kisses on each of her fingers. "And you," he said softly, "are the sweetest thing that ever happened to me."
He turned her hand over and kissed her palm, then held it to his cleanly shaven cheek. "Soft warm hands, soft warm lips, I can't get enough of the touch of either one."
He leaned closer and brushed her lips with his own. His miniseduction was taking her breath away. She smiled and tenderly nibbled at his chin, while she brought her other hand up to stroke his other cheek. He made a growling sound and leaned against her caressing fingers. "If I don't leave right now," he said unsteadily, "you'll have to throw me out to get rid of me."
The idea of throwing him out was preposterous, and the thought of him staying was an intriguing fantasy that stirred desires Elyse thought had died with Jerry. She knew herself to be a highly sensuous woman, and Clint was sparking sensations she had kept banked for five years. She wasn't sure she could control them if they burst into flame, and Clint Sterling could definitely inflame her.
He didn't give her a vote, but once more brushed his lips against hers, then pushed his chair back to stand. "Thank you for going with me tonight," he sai
d, "and for feeding me. A friend of mine gave me two tickets to the Sacramento Symphony concert for Sunday afternoon. If you'll go with me I swear on my honor that I'll buy you dinner afterward. No more excuses or evasions." He paused. "Will there be any problem getting a baby-sitter for Janey?"
She would have gone with him no matter where he proposed to take her, and his concern for her daughter touched her deeply. "I'd love to. Thank you. I'm partial to classical music…even without the inducement of dinner," she added facetiously. "Baby-sitters are no problem. Liz has several students who are mature, well trained and happy to earn the extra money."
He put his arm around her waist and led her up the hall to the door with him. "The concert starts at three. I'll pick you up at noon for brunch."
He put both arms around her and cradled her close. "Good night, angel," he murmured, and captured her mouth with his own. This time there was no hesitation and no playfulness. It was the kiss of a man hungry for the woman in his arms and not too sure how much longer his carefully leashed control would hold.
Stopping the kiss with obvious effort, he turned and walked out the door, leaving Elyse slumped against the wall, her heart pounding and her body fully awakened and throbbing.
It wasn't until later, when she was snuggled between the cool cotton sheets in her antique brass bed, that Reba Ogden's words, spoken earlier that evening, returned to gnaw at her. I suppose you've heard about Dinah—Dinah Jefferson?
Who was Dinah Jefferson, and where did she fit into Clint's life?
Clint moved restlessly in his bed. He felt like a teenager who'd gotten all worked up and then been frustrated when the girl responsible had said no. Only he was a mature man, and it was his own fault he was frustrated. He hadn't even asked the question.
He turned onto his other side in the king-size bed and punched his pillow. If it was anyone else, he'd be tempted to take her to bed a few times and get her out of his system, but he couldn't do that with Elyse. She was nothing like the women he usually dated.
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