They drove for a while in silence, and as they approached the turnoff to Cameron Park, where Clint lived, it seemed to Elyse that he slowed down, as if debating the advisability of taking her to his house. If so, he decided against it, because he sped up just before they reached the exit and drove on toward Elyse's home in Placerville.
After a mile or two he spoke. "Did you enjoy the concert?"
She smiled at the memory. "Oh, yes, very much. I often watch the Symphony on television, but this is the first live concert I've heard. It was marvelous. The music just seemed to envelop me, and I got goose bumps every time the man at the timpani rolled those drums."
Clint chuckled. "I know what you mean. How about dinner? Did you get enough to eat?"
She moaned and rubbed her stomach. "Did I! I may never need to eat again. This is the first time I've been to The Firehouse, but it won't be the last. The food was delicious. I could almost cut the prime rib with my fork."
He leaned over and kissed the top of her head where it lay against his arm. "If you were that impressed we'll do it again."
Elyse resisted the desire to stroke his leg, but let her hand rest lovingly against it. "I like your friends the Ogdens," she said dreamily. "Have you known them long?"
"I've known Bill ever since he was first elected to the Senate sixteen years ago. My dad was a senior senator then, and he sort of took Bill under his wing. Ten years later when I was appointed to fill out Dad's unexpired term, Bill did the same for me. I was best man when he married Reba five years ago."
Elyse was surprised. "Oh, they haven't been married long, then."
Clint turned off the freeway and into Placerville as he spoke. "Bill was married before and has two college-age daughters, but they live in Texas with their mother and her second husband. Reba was an actress doing television commercials in Los Angeles when Bill met her."
The car pulled into the driveway of the Haley home, and Clint turned off the motor and the lights, then reached for Elyse and took her in his arms. "Damn these bucket seats," he grumbled as his arms tightened around her waist in a vain effort to draw her closer.
She grinned as she silently cursed them, too. "I think they were designed as the modern-day chastity belt," she said, putting her arms around his neck. "There have been times when I've been grateful for them, but this isn't one of them."
His mouth closed over hers, and her response was immediate. This was what she'd been longing for all evening: his arms, strong and protective; his lips, firm, warm and ardent, and his scent, musky and masculine.
She ran her fingers through his clean ebony hair, and one of his hands moved up to fondle her breast, which was pressed against his chest. She tipped her head slightly to the side, and he nibbled at her lips in a series of short, intense kisses that had her clutching at his hair and straining to get closer.
It was Clint who finally ended the sweet torment, and he did it almost harshly. "Elyse!" The word was a cross between a moan and a cry as he pushed her away and turned from her to open the car door. "I'll walk you to the porch," he said as he got out of the car.
Landing off balance in her seat, Elyse sat watching him as he stood with his back to her for at least a minute before moving around to her side. She was glad for the delay. She, too, needed time to rouse herself from the daze his lovemaking had induced.
Why had he stopped? He must have known she'd have let him do anything he wanted to with her. Good Lord, what had happened to her celebrated self-control? Wasn't it the woman who was supposed to set the limits, stop things before they got out of hand? She flushed with shame. What must Clint think of her?
When he finally opened her door she scrambled out of the car without taking his helping hand. She took a series of deep breaths as they walked in the cool night air, and her senses calmed down a little.
When they got to the bottom of the steps she remembered the baby-sitter. She turned to Clint and spoke in a voice that faltered. "Um… would you mind taking the baby-sitter home? It's on your way. If I do it I'll have to wake Janey and take her with me."
His tone was once more friendly and gentle. "Of course I'll take her home. I don't want you and Janey driving around alone at night."
He walked up the steps with her, but inside the house all was quiet and deserted. Elyse looked at her watch. It was after eleven. "Liz must have gotten home before me," she said. "If you'll wait a minute I'll run up and check."
Upstairs Janey lay stretched out on her small bed clutching a disheveled Cabbage Patch doll. She was sound asleep. Elyse tiptoed in and kissed her daughter's forehead, then knocked softly on Liz's door. When there was no answer she peeked in to find Liz also asleep.
Downstairs she returned to the family room, where Clint stood waiting for her. He must have been watching the doorway, because when she walked through it their gazes collided. Elyse felt her bones start to melt. He looked so… so hungry.
He reached for her hand and squeezed it as she cleared her throat. "Both Liz and Janey are asleep," she said, and licked her suddenly dry lips. "Do… do you want a drink? Or I could make coffee…"
He pulled lightly on her hand, bringing her closer without ever breaking eye contact. "You know what I want," he said in a husky whisper. "I want you. Now."
With a tiny cry of surrender she walked into his waiting arms.
They took up where they'd left off in the car, wrapped in a tight embrace, mouths locked together, straining to relieve some of the throbbing urgency that had been tormenting them for hours.
For the first time Clint allowed his hands to roam freely, and they slid tenderly over her back and shoulders, her breasts and her buttocks, leaving prickles of fire as they stopped, then moved restlessly on.
Elyse caressed his back, but his suit jacket was in the way. She reached between them and unfastened it so she could feel the flexing muscles beneath his pink shirt. He sighed deeply as her fingers gently massaged him, then moved provocatively up and down his spine. "I've wanted so badly to feel your hands on me," he murmured against her lips.
"It's my pleasure," she whispered back. "You have a strong, solid body, and touching it does the most indecent things to me."
He put both his hands on her bottom and pulled her against him, making her tingle with need. "I don't have to tell you what you do to me," he said, "and have been doing to me ever since we first met. There were times when I thought I'd go mad with frustration."
He was rigid with desire, and she shivered as he moved against her. She reveled in the knowledge that she could do this to him. The power it gave her was heady, but it also robbed her of her reason, her good sense and her ability to resist. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her, and his masculine need overwhelmed her as her body prepared itself for his possession.
He kissed her again, roughly this time, then broke off abruptly and nibbled at her earlobe. "Where's your bedroom?" he asked in a voice gravelly with yearning.
"Upstairs," she answered in a dazed tone.
"Are you protected?"
She blinked and tried to understand the question even as a cold chill swept her. "Protected?"
"Have you taken precautions, or do you want me to?"
Protected? Precautions? My God, she could get pregnant! How could she have been so careless—again!
She straightened in his arms and pulled back. "No. No, I'm not protected. Oh, Clint, I didn't even think!" The fire that had built in her died as the cold splash of reality and past mistakes drenched it.
Clint was still caught in the urgency of desire and didn't seem to notice her distress. "It's all right," he said, and tried to lead her toward the doorway. "I'm prepared."
Prepared. It sounded so cold. So rehearsed. Was he always "prepared" just in case a desirable woman crossed his path, or had sex simply been the last item in the agenda he'd planned for today? Symphony, dinner, bed. All nice and neat.
She knew she was being unreasonable, but her mind was in turmoil and she had no control over her thoughts. Shoc
k that she could act so irresponsibly, guilt over her earlier unplanned pregnancy and the last remnants of arousal had jumbled her reason and left her depleted and unresponsive.
She felt a tug at her waist. "Elyse, come on. I told you I'd take care of it." Clint was frowning, and there was impatience in his tone.
She pulled back. "Clint, I… I can't."
She felt him tense. "You what?"
"I can't. I'm sorry, but—"
"What do you mean, you can't?" The impatience was gone, and his voice was cold.
He didn't understand. How could he? She didn't understand herself. "I just can't," she said disconsolately.
He dropped his arm from around her and stepped away. "I see." His words seemed frozen. "Then why did you let things go so far?"
"Oh, Clint, please—" she cried, desperate to explain, but unable to gather her thoughts into any semblance of order.
"I told you what I wanted," he said, without waiting for her to finish. "You could have refused then."
She could see the rage building in him and hear the disgust in his tone as he continued. "I wouldn't have pushed you into something you didn't want, so why in hell did you wait so long to say no?"
"It's not like that—"
"Never mind," he grated, and turned away from her. "I don't want to hear any excuses."
He stomped out of the room and slammed the front door behind him before she could pull herself together to follow him.
Elyse didn't go to bed. Instead she sat huddled in a ball in a corner of the sofa, alternately wailing and sobbing quietly. Thank heaven the bedrooms were on the second floor in this sturdily built house and she could grieve without being heard by the sleeping occupants.
How could she have mishandled everything so badly? It had been such a joyful day, and by the time they'd gotten home she'd wanted to make love just as badly as Clint had. Probably more, because she knew now that she was in love with him.
Another spurt of weeping shook her. It didn't seem possible that she could have gotten so carried away that she'd forgotten to take proper precautions. No one knew better than she the misery of being an unwed mother. Maybe it was different in the city, but in a small town like Placerville she'd endured the prejudices that had crept into the attitudes of her friends and neighbors.
Not that anyone had actually been unkind. They'd all known that she'd intended to marry soon, but still there had been the covert glances, the whispers and the rather smug pity that were almost worse than outright hostility.
And Janey. It was even worse for Janey. While several of her friends didn't live with their fathers, they at least had them and could see them now and then. Janey had never had a father, and as she grew older she would be more and more aware of that lack. It wasn't something that could be, or even should be, concealed, and it would set her apart.
If only Elyse could have pulled herself together and explained all this to Clint. But how could she, when for a moment she'd been so totally undone she'd even blamed him for being unwilling to proceed without caution!
Again hot tears poured down her cheeks. At that stage of arousal most men would have been too aware of their own needs to give a thought to the consequences, but Clint had managed to remain responsible and mature. No wonder he'd been so outraged—and she'd been too immature and tongue-tied to explain.
By four in the morning, Elyse's head was throbbing, her stomach was queasy and she was totally exhausted. She rose, wincing as cramped muscles protested, and dragged herself upstairs, where she fell into bed without even undressing.
Elyse slept until Janey woke her at eight-thirty on Monday morning, and as soon as she'd showered and dressed she telephoned Clint at his office in the Capitol Building in Sacramento. She knew the next move was up to her, and she was anxious to straighten things out, but she was told he was in a committee meeting and would be unavailable until midafternoon. That night she called his house, but he hadn't returned home. The housekeeper asked if she'd like to leave her name and a message, but she said no.
On Tuesday she spent a restless night and phoned the house shortly after daybreak, but he'd already left. She waited until nine, then called the office again and found that the Senate was in session and Senator Sterling was on the floor.
Elyse's nerves were strung tight, and it was almost impossible for her to concentrate on anything but her desperate need to contact Clint to try to make amends. She didn't expect him to ask to see her again, but she couldn't let him continue to think she'd been deliberately teasing him.
She waited until after eleven that night to ring the house again, but nobody answered.
Once more she got little sleep, and on Wednesday morning when she dialed his office for the third time in as many days her hands trembled so much that she had to hang up and start over again. When she asked for Senator Sterling the receptionist requested her name and telephone number. Elyse hung up quickly, but now it wasn't just her hands that were trembling.
She realized she would be the object of a security investigation if she called the office again. Anyone calling for a public figure three days in a row and requesting information of his whereabouts without identifying herself was suspect.
What was she going to do? She couldn't keep trying to reach him without identifying herself, but she didn't want to leave a message for him to call her. If she did it would be up to him to decide whether he wanted to talk to her. She couldn't let him make that decision. If she could find him and he'd allow it, she'd apologize in person. If he didn't want that she'd do it on the phone, but it was her responsibility, not his.
Things couldn't go on this way. She was a nervous wreck. She couldn't sleep, she had no appetite and she was getting jumpy and shrewish. She was even impatient with Janey, and although she hadn't told Liz about the quarrel with Clint, her sister had been eyeing her warily.
She had to take some type of action.
It wasn't until Liz came home from school and started getting ready for her date with Paul that the solution occurred to Elyse. Paul Sterling, Clint's brother. Maybe he could intervene on her behalf.
Fortunately Liz had been delayed by a visit from the worried mother of one of her problem students and was still dressing when Paul arrived. Elyse greeted him and they went into the family room to wait.
When the amenities were done with and they were seated in comfortable chairs she got right to the point. "Paul, I have a problem and I need your help."
Paul looked puzzled. "Sure, what do you want me to do?"
Elyse's smile was bittersweet. How much like Clint he was. He didn't ask what, where or why, just how he could help.
She clenched her hands and began quietly. "Clint and I had a…a disagreement. It was my fault entirely. He misunderstood… uh… something I did, but under the circumstances anyone would have."
It was hard going. She couldn't tell Paul what she'd done to Clint, and she wouldn't let him think his brother was in any way wrong. "He… he left before I could explain. Actually, I…I didn't seem to be explaining at all."
Paul leaned forward and spoke. "Take it easy, Elyse. You don't have to go into the reason. Just tell me what you want me to do."
His blue eyes were soft with compassion and there was a gentleness in his voice that was just like Clint's. Her sister would make a big mistake if she didn't marry him as quickly as possible. Paul loved Liz just as surely as Elyse had messed up any chance of Clint's ever loving her.
She felt tears gathering and quickly blinked them back. "I can't find him, Paul," she blurted. "I want to apologize, explain and tell him how sorry I am, but I can't seem to connect with him. I've phoned his home and his office so many times that I suspect they're thinking I'm some kind of nut, but he's never there."
"Clint's in Los Angeles, Elyse," Paul said. "I don't know where he was before, but he caught an early flight to L.A. this morning and will be gone for at least a couple of days."
"Oh." She felt a slight sense of relief. At least now she knew he wasn't in
town, so she'd wait before trying to contact him again.
Paul spoke once more. "Are you saying he hasn't bothered to call you back?"
Elyse shook her head. "No, it's not that. I didn't leave my name or a message. I don't want to put him in the position of having to call me."
She saw Paul's look of bewilderment and hurried on. "I know it sounds silly, but it's important to me. I was wondering if there was some way you could find out the next time he planned to spend a day or evening at home and let me know." Her voice rose. "I've got to talk to him. I can't let him go on thinking—" She broke off and ran her fingers through her already disheveled curls. "Oh, Paul, I don't know what to do." There was anguish in her tone.
Paul jumped from his chair and went over to hunker down in front of her. "Hey, come on, it can't be that bad," he murmured as he clasped her hands between his. "I'm sure big brother hasn't been avoiding you. He's just busy. I can never get through to him, either. In an election year like this he's hardly ever home or in his office, but if you want me to track him down for you, I will."
Elyse managed a watery smile. "Oh, please. I'm going crazy. I promise not to bother him, but I have to make him understand."
"Tell you what I'll do. I've got an in with the family housekeeper. She likes to remind me she used to change my diapers." He grimaced and made Elyse giggle. "I'll ask her to call me the first time Clint comes home early and hasn't made plans to go out again. Then I'll call you. How's that?"
She breathed a little sigh. "Oh, Paul, you're an angel."
He made a face. "It's obvious you haven't been listening to Clint's analysis of my character. Angel is definitely not one of his adjectives."
"Then he doesn't know you as well as I do," she said gently. "You won't mention this to Liz, will you? She doesn't know about it."
Paul grinned. "Don't underestimate her, sweetie. She's complained that you've been on edge lately. But I won't say anything." He stood and offered her his hand. "Come on now. Pull yourself together. I hear Liz coming downstairs."
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