“Okay. What time?”
“Be at my place at seven.”
“Is what you have to tell me going to make me happy or sad?”
“I’m making good progress, but I need to process some of this stuff through a brain other than mine. I have most of what I’ve been looking for and the key to the rest, but the most difficult may be ahead of me.”
“I’m with you, no matter what.”
He supposed that was why he’d called her, to know that she was there for him. He was reaching a point in his search where he could stumble or, worse, get more than he’d bargained for.
Heather questioned the wisdom of leaving the country at a time when Judson could be facing a critical point in his life. She had to put a cork in the trouble brewing in Colombia, and a trip there within the next few days seemed in order. She hoped Judson hadn’t bitten off more than he was willing to chew. It had been her experience that when you dug into the past, you could uncover truths best left alone. She hoped he was willing to acknowledge that. She had already realized that his gentle, laid-back manner camouflaged a strong and tenacious personality and a toughness to match that of any man. But he could falter, because he was dealing with uncertain emotions. She was prepared to see him through some of the pain, if necessary. She had already learned to take the bumps in stride.
She didn’t know where he’d take her, so she put on an avocado-colored, lightweight silk suit with a yellow silk blouse. If the place required something dressier, she would merely remove the jacket. And probably freeze. She wore her hair down, attached small gold hoops to her ears, and hurried down the hall guessing that she would barely make it to the door by the time he rang the bell.
She opened the door, and he stepped in, hugged her and stepped back as if to get a good look. “You look better to me every time I see you,” he said. His eyes sparkled, though she knew they reflected his happiness that he’d made progress in his search for his birth parents.
She’d been careful not to compliment him on his looks, because he had certainly heard enough of that. But he looked so great in that navy blue suit that she reached up, kissed him on the mouth and said, “Remaining objective about you is practically a full-time job, and tonight, it’s impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because you look great, and you’re interfering with my good judgment.”
“Trust me, sweetheart, you’re interfering with more than my judgment. I found a great little Hungarian restaurant. It has terrific food, a wonderful décor and live gypsy music. I walked in there one day to get out of a torrential rain, and decided to sample the food. It’s really good. But if you’d rather—”
“I can already taste it. Besides, I like gypsy music. It’s schmaltzy and romantic.”
“This was wonderful,” she said to Judson as they sipped espresso after their dinner. The musicians strolled among the patrons taking requests and filling the restaurant with the kind of music that stirs fantasies.
The lead violinist asked Judson, “What would you like to here?”
“‘Just One Girl in All the World,’” he said, and explained to Heather that he had once heard the song while sitting alone in a Hungarian café in Vienna, Austria. “You can’t imagine how lonely I felt that night.”
She reached for his hand, closed her eyes and let the music wash over her. One didn’t need the words to know that it was a song for lovers. The musicians moved on to the next table and, as if the song had opened up a place inside of him, Judson began to talk.
“Aunt Cissy said the boy was three years old when Beverly Moten came back to Hagerstown and took him away, and the adoption papers I found stated that I was three at the time of adoption. Now I’m going to find Fentriss Sparkman.”
“But where?”
“I’ll start with the organizations that architects and builders belong to to see if he’s a member, and whether his address is listed. Aunt Cissy said he’s a very prominent builder, and he must be if he designed that beautiful hotel.”
“Tell you what. I have to visit Annie and my father. Bring your laptop, I’ll bring mine, and we can work at this together.”
“I’d like that, but what will your dad say about your bringing me to his house? I mean, won’t he reach the wrong conclusion?”
She could hardly restrain her laughter. “Seeing me with you would please him, but he might start asking you questions.”
“When did you last bring a man to your dad’s house?”
“Hmm. Not since I was a teenager.”
“There’s your answer. I’ve been introduced to several fathers and their response to me was the same—What are your intentions? If I’m lucky enough to have a daughter, that will also be my reaction to any man I see her with. And if I asked, not a one would tell me the truth.”
She lowered her lashes. “What if I asked, would you tell me the truth?”
A grin spread over his face, and his large eyes sparkled, sending her heart into a tizzy. He stared at her. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” she said. “At times, you take some getting used to. You didn’t answer my question.”
“Oh, that! If I tell you the truth, you won’t play by the rules. I’m not stupid, sweetheart.
“If I go to Hagerstown and don’t stay with my aunt Cissy, she’ll be hurt. I suggest that you stay with your dad, and I’ll stay with my aunt, and we’ll meet at the hotel and do our research there.”
“Nope. You come to my dad’s place. We can work in the living room, the dining room, Dad’s den or on the enclosed, air-conditioned back porch. I’m not sitting in a hotel working when I can kick off my shoes and work at home. Period.”
“If you had phrased that differently, say, like a suggestion or a request rather than an order, I’d say that’s a great idea.”
She spent so much of her working day telling people what to do that she’d slipped up. But she figured she’d better not buckle at the first sign of battle. “Point taken. What do you say instead?”
“I’d say it’s a good idea.”
“I apologize. I’m so used to giving orders at work that I slipped. I’ll be more careful.”
“Can we leave Friday afternoon after work? I’ll call Aunt Cissy and tell her to expect me. Do you want to come back Saturday or Sunday? Or shall we play it by ear?”
“My father won’t want me to leave before Sunday.” She looked out the window. “Look at that, will you? I didn’t know it was supposed to rain. It looks as if the clouds burst wide open. Well, we’ll just sit here.”
After another round of espresso and two more tips to the musicians to play “Golden Earrings” and “Vienna, City of My Dreams,” he seemed to tire of the schmaltz. “I’ll get my car. Wait inside here.”
“Why should you get wet? I’m—”
He interrupted her. “Will I be drier if you go with me to get the car than if I went alone? Wait by the door.”
As he walked away, she considered the evening. She would have to remember to leave foreign service officer Tatum at the office, where she’d been cracking the whip, as it were, all day.
Judson drove up and parked. She was about to open the door when she saw him get out of the car, open an umbrella and walk to the door where she stood. She waited until he opened it and walked with him the few steps to the car.
She sat in the car, completely dry, and when he opened the door on the driver’s side and got in, she saw that he was drenched. “When you take me home,” she said, “I’m going to kiss you and we’ll stop when I’m ready.”
“If past experience is a yardstick, it’s gonna be a long evening. I can’t wait.” Was he being facetious?
“And I can’t wait for you to eat those words.”
“Uh-huh. I know.”
She tried to see his face. “You’re playing with me.”
“Would I do a mean thing like that?” He parked in front of her building, cut the motor and turned to her. “Should I let the valet park this car?”
While s
he looked him in the eye, she put a hand on the door handle as if prepared to open it. “You can do that, or you can find a parking space around here somewhere.”
She was about to push the door open when his hand shot out and pulled her toward him. He bent over her. “Some things aren’t amusing. You know I want you, that I’m practically going out of my mind wanting you.”
Stunned by his outburst, she didn’t think. Instead, she put her hand behind his head, parted her lips and brought his mouth to hers. “I’m not playing with you. Kiss me.”
She had expected a fierce, passionate and demanding kiss, but his lips barely touched hers. His tongue flicked over the seam of her lips and withdrew. His lips brushed her eyes, her cheeks and her throat. He stopped and looked at her.
“Do you understand?” he asked her, his voice soft and urgent.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He stared into her eyes until tremors seemed to surge through her, beginning with her limbs and then throughout her body. She felt herself shake, and he wrapped her in his arms. “There’s nothing casual about this for me, Heather. If you can walk away and not look back, tell me now, and I won’t get out of this car.”
“This is not casual or ordinary for me, Judson. I’m in uncharted waters, and I’m scared to death that I might drown.”
His kiss barely touched her mouth, but it shook her from her head to her toes. He got out, went around and opened the door for her. “Say, there’s a parking spot,” she said when a car moved away from the curb. He looked at her for a moment, and she knew the second that he made up his mind. He got back into his car and parked in the vacant spot, came back, took her hand and walked into the building.
Inside her apartment, he closed the door, took her hand and walked with her to the living room. “Sit here beside me,” he said. “Heather, from the time my mother died until the first time you kissed me, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being totally alone. It didn’t depress me, but it was unpleasant and I felt a terrible loss. As you and I have grown closer, I have only fleetingly felt that loneliness.
“When I eat something that’s delicious, I want to share it with you. If I see something interesting, beautiful or funny, I almost always think of you and wish you were with me.
“I can think of several reasons why you may want to break off our relationship. If not now, eventually. If you and I make love, breaking up would cause deep pain. I’ve thought about this a good deal. If you haven’t, this is your opportunity to back away.”
“I know that feeling of loneliness, of being by myself even when surrounded by friends and colleagues, and of having no one with whom to share an intimate experience,” she said. “You know my story. From the time I was ten, I’ve had Annie and my father. Now, your nightly and sometime early-morning calls are the moments I live for. I haven’t dissected this thing, but I know what you mean to me. I don’t care who your parents are or what your heritage is. It produced you, and that’s more than good enough for me.”
He stood and held out his hand to her. “Thank you. That means more than you can imagine.” She tried to read the fierce expression in his eyes. It wasn’t passion. Could it be determination?
“When we take the next step, there will be no turning back, at least not for me. You’re not that certain yet. So walk with me to the door.”
He read her reaction, put his arms around her and said, “We shouldn’t make love because one of us decides that it’s time, but because we both decide. I believe we’re closer right now than we’ve ever been, and if we treat with care the growing feelings, you’ll be happy that we did. Do you understand?”
She nodded. “I think I do.” She wanted so badly to ask him if he loved her. But if she did that, she’d be admitting that she cared for him.
“I’m beginning to realize that you are wiser in matters of the heart than I am.”
A grin spread over his face. “‘Matters of the heart?’ Sweetheart, don’t candy-coat this. It’s okay to call it what it is.”
“And what is that?” she asked, looking at him with lowered lashes.
“Intimacy between a man and a woman. Lovemaking. Anything but matters of the heart. That sounds too vague.” He grinned at her, and lights danced in his eyes. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re a natural flirt.”
“Me? A flirt? Me?”
“Yeah. And a damned good one at that. Walk with me to the door.”
“What time do we leave for Hagerstown?”
“You’ll find me parked in front of your office building at four-fifteen.”
“Great. We’ll be there before dark.”
He tipped up her chin with his index finger. “Are you disappointed?”
“In a way, but I learned more tonight that I’ve learned before.”
“Our day will come, sweetheart, and it will be magical.” He gathered her close to him and spread gentle kisses over her face before running his tongue over her lips. She opened, pulled his tongue into her mouth and caught fire. He broke the kiss, gazed down at her for a long moment and left.
“Our day will come,” she said aloud, “and brother, you’d better be ready.” But she knew he was right. An hour earlier as they sat in his car in front of the building, he’d given her tenderness, showing her the difference between love and passion.
He’d told her earlier that he wanted her badly, and she would have made love to him then and there. Now she suspected that it was her emotions ruling her, and she needed sexual fulfillment. So why not? After thinking for a while, it hit her that he could get sex anywhere and at anytime. But he saw her as a potential mate and intended to move with great care. One more reason why she admired him.
When Judson left Heather, questions danced across his mind. He told himself that he was not a masochist. So why had he walked away from what he wanted so badly? With the snap of a finger, he could have been ready to exhaust himself inside of her. But he didn’t want it as a result of a tease or any ploy. He realized for the first time that he was playing for the highest stakes, that if they found that they loved each other and were sexually compatible, he’d want her for life.
He parked in front of the State Department building at precisely four-fifteen and saw Heather walk out of the revolving door carrying a red leather overnight case. He got out, met her, put the case in the trunk of his car. He got in the car, leaned over and kissed her.
“I like a lot of things about you,” he told her, “and they include your punctuality. You never keep me waiting, and you’re the only woman I’ve dated that I can say that about. You’re considerate, and I appreciate that.”
He hadn’t said it to please her, but he could see that it did. “Thank you. My father demanded that. When I was a teenager, I considered punctuality an inconvenience, to put it mildly. Nowadays, I thank him for it. He wanted to know why you aren’t staying with us, and I told him you wanted to stay with your aunt.”
“What was his reaction to that?” They hadn’t talked much about her family, though she’d told him that she grew up without her mother.
“A grunt would best describe it.”
“You never told me what kind of work your father did.”
“He taught history at Morgan State. He deluged me with so much history that I won’t read anything that remotely resembles a history book.”
“You certainly studied legal history.”
“In those days, Daddy was still drilling me about historical facts.” She patted his knee. “It took me a little while last night to understand how you could leave the way you did. At first I was prepared to be annoyed, then hurt. You were right. One day, I’ll tell you why I’m so sure you were right.”
He slowed down to allow a speeding driver to safely pass. “I’ll look forward to that. I want to share anything that will help me know and understand you. That was not an easy thing for me to do. I felt like a cross between a saint and a masochist walking out of that door. If we treat our feelings for each other casually, we’ll lose something precious. So
let’s be honest with each other, and that includes in bed.”
She turned on the radio, and Billie Holiday’s sultry voice crooned with a hot rendition of “Them There Eyes.”
“That’s what got me,” he said. “Your elegance hit me before I got to you, but those big brown eyes of yours made marbles dance in my stomach.”
Her mind’s eye gave her a good picture of that scene, and laughter poured out of her. “Judson, your eyes put the stars to shame, so let’s not talk about the power of eyes.”
“Woman, you’re crazy. I never heard of such a thing.” He had to laugh. “When it comes to metaphors, that one was hard to top.”
Some time later, he passed the sign that read Welcome to Hagerstown and slowed down to conform with the speed limit. “I’ll take you to your father’s house, and then I’ll check in with Aunt Cissy.” At her direction, he drove into a broad, tree-lined street and parked in front of a yellow, two-story Cape Cod house.
Immediately, a woman of about fifty or so opened the front door and rushed out to the car. Heather jumped out of the car as he opened his own door, embraced the woman in a tight hug and turned to him. “Annie, this is Judson Philips. Judson, this is Annie Archer, my dear friend and surrogate mother.”
He liked how Annie treated Heather, and her penetrating perusal did not escape him. Deciding to throw her off balance and destroy what he believed was her conclusion that he was a handsome stud, he put an arm around her and hugged her in a tender and gentle manner.
“Heather has told me of your role in her life, and I’m glad to meet you.”
Annie brushed her hands down the front of her dress as if pressing out some wrinkles and looked hard at him. He resisted grinning, for that would be impolite. “I’m glad to meet you, Judson. Heather hasn’t said one word to me about you, and I’m going to take her to task for it.”
She locked her hands to her hips and continued to look at him. He could see that she’d already given up her ill-considered assessment of him. “I didn’t know such men existed,” she said cryptically. “Come on in. Heather, your father is very excited that you’re coming, and he’s in a really good mood today.”
Love Me Tonight Page 7