“I hope so.”
For some reason, his answer bothered her, but she told herself it didn't matter that he seemed ready to be rid of her.
* * *
An hour later, they were in Allison’s SUV and driving back down the country roads toward the interstate. They hadn’t even tried the direction of the bridge, knowing it would still be impassable, but they hoped the road in the other direction wouldn’t be as flooded and they’d be able to get through to the main roads out of the area.
Allison held her breath as they crested the hill that had stopped them the day before. She released it in a rush when she saw the roadway beyond.
“Looks all right,” Michael said, sounding encouraged. “Still some water but not nearly so much.”
There was some standing water in the dip but only a couple of inches. Allison slowed down some as she drove the car through the large puddles, and she relaxed as the vehicle got through it with no problems.
“We’ll be all right if that’s the worst of it,” she said. “The area still seems deserted.”
“I guess everyone else evacuated.” Michael leaned back in his seat, his observant eyes scanning the road before them and the landscape surrounding them. “People should start coming back today, I imagine.”
They drove in silence as Allison thought about how completely isolated they’d been for the last two days. After a while, she let out a breath. “It will be nice to get a signal on our phones and do things like check email again.”
It would. She had friends who would be worried about her. Not to mention a job she needed to keep up with. But even the thought of these basic aspects of real life caused that clench of heaviness inside her again.
The more real life pushed its way back into her existence, the more distanced Michael would become.
She was distracted with these troubling thoughts and feelings as she rounded a curve, so she had to slam on her brakes as she nearly collided with a downed tree, which had fallen across the road.
When they’d jerked to a stop, Allison tried to catch her breath as she studied the situation before her. “No way to get around it.”
“No.” Michael unbuckled, his hand moving to the handle of the passenger door. “It doesn’t look too heavy. I’ll push it out of the way.”
Allison shifted the SUV into park as Michael got out and walked over to the tree. She watched him as he tried to get a grip on a couple of strong limbs to haul the fallen tree out of their way.
He was wearing his own clothes again—black trousers and blue dress shirt—but his sleeves were rolled up and the top buttons of the shirt were undone. His messy dark hair reflected the sunlight streaming through the branches of the trees surrounding the road, and his lean body was masculine and powerful—long legs, broad shoulders, narrow hips—as he exerted his strength to move the tree.
As she watched, one of the branches he was pulling snapped, and he stumbled back a step from the recoil. He shot a sheepish look in the direction of the car before he got a more secure hold on the tree.
It was then that Allison felt a flood of a feeling she could only describe as yearning. It wasn’t physical desire, but it was just as strong, just as visceral. She wanted Michael. Wanted him. Not just sex with him but the intelligent flash of his eyes and the ironic quirk of his mouth and the eminently human line of his shoulders and the way his shirt clung to his skin from the wetness of the leaves.
The feeling overwhelmed her, causing her vision to blur and her hands to clutch shakily at the steering wheel. It didn’t make sense. She already knew a future was impossible with him, so this sort of inexplicable yearning could only end up hurting her.
But she felt it. She could almost taste it. She was chilled and terrified as Michael finished dragging the tree out of the way and returned to the passenger seat of her car.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as they scanned her face. He was far too astute, far too perceptive.
“Nothing,” she lied, putting the SUV into drive and starting off again.
She was clearly suffering from temporary insanity, probably brought on by the extreme conditions of the last two days. She wouldn’t let these weird feelings control her. She was a mature, sensible woman and didn’t have to be dragged around by such silly emotions.
Nothing could happen with Michael. Even if nothing else would get in the way between them, eventually he’d have to find out what she did for a living.
And then he’d never want to see her again.
* * *
Michael kept slanting sharp looks over at Allison as she drove quietly down the narrow country road.
Something was wrong with her. She’d gotten tense, closed up. It had happened when he was out of the car taking care of that tree.
It worried him. He wondered what he’d done to make her put up her guard like that. He didn’t like it. She’d been so friendly and open with him for the last two days—filled with warmth and good spirits.
The change was palpable, and it frustrated Michael not to know what had caused it.
This morning she’d looked at him with something close to tenderness, and now the dog seemed happier to see him than she did.
He tried a couple of times to make conversation, but Allison only replied in monosyllables. So he gave up, although he brooded over possibilities and kept checking her expression for signs and clues.
It shouldn’t matter. It wasn’t like Michael had been intending to keep pursuing Allison after they returned to their normal lives, but he hadn’t done anything to provoke such coolness, and there was no reason for her to close him out like this.
To distract himself, Michael kept checking his mobile, and after about forty-five minutes he was finally able to pick up a signal.
“At last,” he muttered, hitting a number he had programmed into his phone. His administrative assistant back in New York picked up. At her courteous greeting, he said, “Julie. What’s going on?”
He blew out a breath as she rambled about how worried everyone had been about his suddenly dropping out of contact. “I’m all right. Just bring me up to speed.”
He knew Allison was listening in on his side of the conversation, and her curiosity was at least normal for her, characteristic, a sign that she wasn’t as distanced as she was acting.
Julie rehearsed the messages, issues, and problems that had come up over the last two days. She was competent and organized, and she had them listed in order of importance.
For a few minutes, Michael’s focus was only on business. He responded with some directions for Julie. He also told her where his damaged car was located and asked her to get someone to take care of it.
“And get me some contact information for someone named Graves.”
“Todd Graves,” Allison put in softly.
“Todd Graves,” Michael spoke into the phone, giving the address of the house. “We made ourselves at home in his house.”
When the conversation had ended, he disconnected his phone and looked over at Allison. “Do you have anyone you need to call?”
“Yeah,” she said, staring at the road in front of them. “I suppose.”
Michael arched his eyebrows, feeling a familiar flicker of curiosity. Allison was a puzzle, and she was less open now than ever. “Boyfriend? Boss?”
“No boyfriend,” she said, shooting him a strange look. “And I can wait to call my boss. But I guess I should call one of my friends. Some of them will be worried about me.”
Michael handed her the cell phone he pulled out of her purse, and she flipped it open to make her call.
He could only hear her half of the conversation, but he studied her face as she talked. Her voice was warm as she greeted someone named Elizabeth.
Evidently, Elizabeth had been worried about Allison, because after a minute Allison said, “I’m fine. Really. It’s been kind of crazy, but I made it through unscathed.”
Michael couldn’t figure out what the next question was because all sh
e said was, “Yeah. Maybe a few.”
After another pause, she said, “No. I wasn’t alone.”
Michael smiled discreetly at the slightly guilty look that flashed over Allison’s face. His smile broadened when she added, “I’ll tell you about it later.”
He wondered how she would explain to her friend that she’d spent her time stranded in the middle of the storm having intense, passionate sex with a man she hadn’t seen in seven years.
Then he wondered how she felt about what had happened. Things had ended rather abruptly between them after the night they’d spent together so many years ago. Maybe she was expecting something similar now.
Michael had to admit that was exactly what he assumed would happen. He’d never seriously considered calling her up or trying to see her after they returned to their respective lives.
But now he started to wonder why not. The sex with Allison had been good. Fantastic. And they got along remarkably well. She made him feel…different than he felt with anyone else.
Why shouldn’t they continue having a good time together for a little while longer? Yes, he lived in New York and she lived in D.C., but they could work around that. They would just have to avoid the journalists who wouldn’t stop hounding him over his broken engagement.
Allison finished her conversation before they reached the interstate. Once they did, it was only an hour up to D.C.
Michael made an effort to be friendly, and eventually Allison relaxed enough to laugh and chat with him casually. There was still something odd about her expression, but he wasn’t particularly worried.
He and Allison were good together. She knew it as well as he did, and he couldn’t believe she’d refuse an extension of their chance encounter.
He owned a townhouse in D.C, which his father had bought years ago, so he gave her directions to the exclusive street on which it was located.
When they reached it, he smiled at her and said smoothly. “Maybe I can give you a call, and we can get together some time soon.”
Allison narrowed her eyes and aimed wary green eyes in his direction. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Didn’t we agree this was just a one-night-stand?”
“Yes. But why shouldn’t it be extended? I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Don’t try that seductive routine on me. I’m way too jaded to fall for it anymore.” She gave him a teasing smile, apparently to soften the blow.
Her reaction confused Michael more than it disappointed him. Allison was smart and ironic, but she wasn’t jaded. There was still that untouched innocence about her, despite all her wit and experience.
So he didn’t know why she was being so wary.
She cleared her throat as she neatly pulled the SUV into an empty space on the side of the road. “Uh, Michael?”
He took a quick breath as he met her eyes. “Yes?” It felt like she was going to make a confession, but he had no idea what it was.
“My, uh, apartment building doesn’t allow pets.”
Michael felt a kick in his chest. With a slowly rising dread, he turned to look in the back seat, where the dog was happily panting at the window. “You can’t be serious.”
“They're not allowed. He’s too big to smuggle in. I’m not going to leave him at the pound. I’m just not.”
Michael groaned, knowing even as he objected that he was never going to win. “Rescuing the dog was your idea. My lifestyle doesn’t lend itself to pets.”
“Can’t you hang onto the poor fella? For now at least? He might belong to someone. I can put some feelers out to see if he has an owner who lost him in the storm.”
Michael knew the dog didn’t have an owner. He just knew it. And instinct told him that if he let the ingrate into his house, he might never be free of him.
But, as the dog snuffled hopefully at Michael’s shoulder, he wasn’t sure how he could refuse. It would be a shame for such a decent dog to be foisted off on the pound, to who knew what future. Plus, the dog might be just the excuse he needed to keep in touch with Allison.
“All right,” he said, “I’ll take him. For a few days. Then we’ll have to think of another option.”
“Thank you.” She grinned at him and got out to help unload the dog. She walked with Michael up to the front door of the house. “I’m sure he won’t be any trouble.”
Michael frowned as he leaned over to keep the dog from taking off down the sidewalk. The first thing he’d need to do was get the animal a collar and leash. “I’m not sure of any such thing.”
Allison leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Don't bother putting on a pretense. You’re just not as cold and heartless as you’d like the world to believe.”
Her words were soft and unexpectedly intimate, and they made Michael strangely uncomfortable. He felt even more at a loss for words when Allison pulled back suddenly, as if she hadn’t meant to say what she’d said.
“Anyway,” she went on hurriedly, “Thanks for your help and everything.”
“You too.” Pulling himself together, he smiled at her again. “I’ll be in touch.” Before she could object to his textured tone, he continued, “About the dog, I mean.”
“Oh. Yeah.” She opened her mouth, as if she was going to say something else.
“What is it?” Michael asked.
She shook her head. “Nothing. All right. Bye.”
She was on her way back to the car before Michael could figure out what was going on with her.
* * *
That evening, he was sitting at the office in his townhouse, catching up on correspondence and the most urgent tasks that had been left undone in his absence. When the phone rang, he glanced at the caller ID and then picked it up.
“Hi, Julie.”
“Good evening, Mr. Martin. I have some of the information you requested. I have Ms. Dent’s phone number.”
Allison’s number was unlisted, but Michael wouldn’t let something like that deter him. “Good. What is it?” He jotted it down as she read the number out.
He’d felt at loose ends all evening, even with so much work to catch up on. He felt all alone in the townhouse, and he kept wanting to talk to Allison. He’d actually been grateful for the company of the ingrate, who kept at his heels the whole time. Michael decided he’d call Allison when he got through with Julie.
“If you’re having problems with a reporter,” Julie added, “I’m sure someone in the P.R. department can help you.”
Michael blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“Ms. Dent. She’s on staff with a web magazine. I thought you must have been having problems with her pestering you.”
Michael’s throat closed up, and he couldn’t answer. He sat speechless, staring at the computer monitor in front of him. As his mind intuitively put the pieces together, suddenly all of the gaps and odd behavior made sense. A bleak, bitter kind of sense.
Of course, Allison was a reporter. Of course, she had lied to him about it.
It had been a long time since Michael had experienced a pure, intense passion of any sort. He did now, though, as the truth crystallized into a starkly detailed picture of how he'd been used and deceived.
As the shock slowly dissipated in his mind, a cold, hard rage took its place.
Chapter Seven
Allison was glad to be home.
She felt rather disoriented and at loose ends as she stumbled into her apartment to be surrounded by her familiar furnishings and her much-loved piles of clutter. She was disheveled and exhausted, but it was so nice to take a hot shower in her own bathroom, put on her favorite pajamas, turn on her laptop and catch up on news and email.
She ordered a pizza, had two beers, and decided not to stress about things until tomorrow.
She did contact Jeff, her boss, who was sympathetic about her near crisis and relieved she was safe. He told her to make sure she was recovered and to touch base first thing tomorrow with any story id
eas she had from her experiences.
Allison managed to avoid any troublesome thoughts until she went to bed, but as she lay in the dark, she found herself thinking about Michael.
It was silly for her to keep rolling her mind over options, possibilities, and various visions of the future. Michael was the kind of man only intended for a one-night-stand. He’d never choose to make Allison a real part of his life, and his lifestyle was too questionable anyway.
She had enjoyed her time with him—and not just the sex. All of it. But she was no longer a foolish girl who dreamed that anything lasting could come of it.
Seven years ago, she’d entertained those kinds of dreams, even before Michael had given any signs of being interested in her sexually.
So many days and nights, she’d mentally played out absurd fantasies of his falling in love with her. She’d had a whole collection of daydreams of different ways Michael might declare himself, kiss her the first time, make love to her, ask her to marry him.
Allison groaned out loud in the darkness of the room. Then she flipped on her television to distract herself from those humiliating memories.
She was smarter now than she’d been at eighteen. She might not be as distanced as she should be about Michael, but she wasn’t too far gone to not move on with her life.
If it wasn’t for the dog, she might decide to close down communication with him completely, just to make sure her heart remained safe.
But she couldn’t desert the poor dog.
Besides, Michael’s eyes had been so appealing as he’d said goodbye to her in front of his townhouse. He’d always been able to do that—make her feel desirable, make her believe she was special to him.
Despite his reputation, he wasn't a bad guy.
She just wouldn’t get her hopes up this time.
* * *
First thing the next morning, Allison called up Jeff to go over her experiences and figure out how she might make use of them.
This unforeseen opportunity could be a huge advantage to her career. Her magazine focused on human interest stories, mostly in the D.C. area—but the coast was close enough. The freak storm was a far bigger story than any of the other minor projects she’d been given so far. If she could get something written today, it could be posted soon enough to still be timely.
Storm Front (Reunited Hearts) Page 7