“I’m sure he does. He’s always been driven.”
Nora gave her an inquisitive look that made Allison feel ridiculously shy. She realized she’d sounded more intimate than she had any right to be regarding Michael.
“I always tell him to slow down, but he won’t. His demons drive him hard.”
Her curiosity triggered, Allison asked, “How long have you worked for him?”
“Going on six years now. I live in town, you know—just a few miles away. Just come out whenever he’s in residence. He’s a good man to work for. I have no complaints.”
“That’s good.” Allison had never imagined any differently, but she was oddly touched by Nora’s vote of confidence in her guarded, unknowable employer. “This is a lovely house. You do a great job taking care of it.”
“Thank you.” Nora was polite, but she wordlessly shrugged away the praise. “He needs a wife. A good one.”
Allison blinked, startled by the abrupt change in subject. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me, miss. I’m wondering if you’re up to the job.” Nora wasn’t smiling or frowning or making any sort of obvious expression. Her words and manner were as matter-of-fact as if she’d been sharing a recipe.
“No!” Allison exclaimed, flushing and tightening her hands around her coffee mug. “That’s not what’s going on. I mean, we’re not together. Michael and I. I’m here on a story. That’s all. He’s not…I’m not…We hardly know each other. And it’s complicated. Plus, he’s not the kind of man to fall in love at the drop of a hat.”
She cringed with mortification at the stammering mess she’d made of what should have been a simple clarification.
Nora’s sharp brown eyes pinned her for a moment before the older woman shrugged. “Of course, he is. Only, he always picks the wrong girls, so he’s learned not to trust himself. Or anyone else, for that matter.”
Allison thought about the words for a minute and then decided they were probably true. “Maybe. But there’s nothing…” She shook her head, trying to shake the confusion away.
Nora worked in silence on the scallops, and Allison was afraid maybe she’d offended the woman. Before she could backtrack or clear the air, Nora started chatting amiably again. “I knew it was no good when he brought that doe-eyed thing here, but he’s constantly rushing headlong into trouble.”
Allison swallowed hard, torn between wanting to end the subject and wanting to find out more about it. “When he was engaged to Gina, you mean?”
“That’s the one. He’d known her when he was young, I suppose. And then she reappeared in his life as if by magic. His driver rear-ended her car. Did you know that?”
“No, I didn’t. I wondered how they hooked up again.”
“She got rear-ended, and as quick as a wink, they were dating hot and heavy. Then he gave her a ring. She’s a pretty thing, and she knows how to wrap men around her little finger. And he can be a fool—as much as any other man.”
Allison made a face. She didn’t like the idea of Michael being a fool over Gina. She didn’t like the idea of his having deep feelings for her. She didn't like the thought of their being "hot and heavy." She didn’t like that they’d been together at all.
And she definitely didn’t like that Gina had hurt Michael so much.
“Oh, he didn’t love her,” Nora continued, skillfully chopping vegetables for a salad. “Thought he did, I suppose. But it wasn’t what I’d call real. But he was committed. He’d have done anything for her.”
Allison knew she shouldn’t be prying into Michael’s privacy but she had to know more. “So what happened?”
“The rear-ending was fake.”
Allison gasped. “What?”
“It was staged. The doe-eyed thing had planned out the whole incident. I suppose she decided she wanted a rich husband, so she did what she had to do to make it happen.”
Her hand covering her mouth, Allison momentarily thought she was strangling. “I can’t believe it! That bitch!”
Nora actually chuckled, evidently not shocked by Allison’s choice in language. “I don’t disagree. He found out. He might be a fool in love, but he’ll always been a little paranoid. So he ended it when he found out he’d been duped.”
“Poor Michael,” Allison breathed to herself, feeling her heart torn at the way he must have felt at the discovery of being deceived and used that way.
No wonder he’d been so furious with her when he found out she was a reporter. No wonder he’d acted like she’d betrayed him.
“He was mostly humiliated. Not heart-broken. I’d say he’s over it now, no question. Just one more wall around his heart.”
Allison let out a hoarse sigh, trying to resign herself to a reality she’d always known. “I doubt he’ll ever let himself love now—after all the ways he’s been hurt.”
Shooting her another sharp look, Nora asked, “You think so? Not me. You have to get past all the outside-stuff—the money and power and reputation. But I say he’s really an old-fashioned man at heart.”
Allison actually snorted.
“You don’t think so? Sure, he’s ambitious and brilliant and complicated. But what do you think he really wants the most, when it comes right down to it?”
Allison knew the answer, understood the truth in Nora’s words. “He wants to be loved,” she said shakily. “He wants to love and be loved.”
“Yep,” Nora nodded, as if they weren’t talking about the intimate secrets of a man’s soul. “And he’s nearly convinced himself it’s impossible.”
Overwhelmed with a rush of aching emotion, Allison stood up and left the kitchen quickly. She went outside and stood on the deck, looking out at the waves crash on the beach.
Why had Michael brought her here? She couldn’t believe it was just about the story. Could he really be considering her as more than a casual bed-partner and a face from his past?
He didn’t trust her, though. She understood why, after the way he’d been duped by Gina. She hoped he was starting to see past the one lie she’d told, but she couldn’t believe he’d dropped all of his instinctive distrust.
But he’d brought her here. Surely, if he’d been afraid she was going to write some sort of muck-raking exposé on him, he wouldn’t have brought her to his home. It would give her an enormous amount of ammunition to use against him in a story.
Unless…
“Allison.” Michael’s voice came from behind her, and it made her heart clench in a way she couldn’t ignore.
She turned around, and something inside her melted at the slightly self-conscious look on his face as he stood in front of her in his casual clothes, with a coffee mug in his hand.
“Nora said dinner is almost ready.” He was watching her carefully, scanning her face as if he was trying to dig into her heart.
And that triggered the random, incomplete thought she’d had just a moment ago.
She sucked in a sharp breath and asked him without warning, “Why am I here, Michael?"
He'd brought her here, even though she might use private information against him in a story, and she might have just figured out why.
The idea hurt her, even as it rang profoundly true—speaking to everything she’d ever known about Michael Martin. So she asked the question bluntly. “Is this some sort of test?”
Chapter Twelve
When Michael’s face twisted slightly, in a guilty expression he almost never revealed anymore, Allison knew what his answer was.
“Allison,” he began, his voice slightly hoarse. He stepped forward, as if he would reach out to touch her or keep her from reacting badly.
She gave her head a jerky shake. “No. It’s fine. Just tell me the truth. Did you bring me here as some sort of test? Are you trying to find out if I’m searching for a juicy story on you?”
He cleared his throat. “Not like that. It’s not a covert, conscious plot to test you. It’s not like that.”
She believed him—mostly because his expression was so awkward it
was pained. Her voice was calm as she said, “So tell me what it’s like.”
He didn’t say anything. He just stared at her so intensely she was afraid he could read her thoughts, which were so confused she wasn’t even sure she could read them.
“Michael?” she prompted. “Do you really think I’m going to dig up your secrets and plaster them all over the web?”
“No. I don’t. Not anymore. I did think that. You know my experiences with journalists aren’t…aren’t good, but I’m starting to think that you’re different.”
Her lip curled slightly. “Or maybe that your universal generalizations about journalists are unfairly skewed in a negative direction?”
Michael’s mouth actually tightened in amusement. “Maybe. I’m not prepared to acknowledge that without question, but it’s possible. And I’m having trouble believing you’re plotting against me the way I thought, the way…”
When he trailed off, Allison thought she understood why. “The way Gina did,” she murmured, glancing down, still infuriated by the idea of Gina’s self-seeking manipulation.
His expression stiffened briefly, but then his mouth and chin relaxed. “Yes.” With a sideways glance toward her, he said, “I guess Nora has been gossiping. You’re not feeling sorry for me, are you?”
Allison snorted. “Feeling sorry for you? Hardly. You’ve been ridiculously spoiled if you think being the target of one selfish bitch is a tragedy.” Her casual tone was exaggerated because she did genuinely feel for the way Michael must have been hurt by Gina’s machinations.
And she was rewarded for her attempt at irony when Michael actually chuckled. “I guess that put me properly in my place.”
She smiled back at him, and they held the gaze for longer than she expected. When she felt her stomach starting to buzz giddily, she looked away. “Don’t think you’re off the hook, just because you happen to be charming. This might not have been an intentional test. But it was…it was something. There’s no other reason for me to be here.”
“Yes, it was something,” he admitted, rubbing his hand over his hair. “I wanted to spend more time with you, get to know you some more. And, I guess, subconsciously, I was waiting to see how you would act. To assure myself you aren’t what I’d originally taken you for.”
He let out a long sigh. “I am sorry about that. You lied to me once. But you’ve done nothing else to deserve my suspicion.”
“The lie was stupid,” she replied, feeling a familiar twist of guilt. “I can see now why it made you so mad. Can’t we get past it?”
He stared at her evenly for a long time. Then he said, “Yes. I think we can.”
She grinned at him, feeling remarkable good all of a sudden as the ocean breeze blew across her flushed cheeks. “Good. In that case, is it time for dinner yet?”
* * *
Halfway through supper, Michael started to plot.
He felt ludicrously relieved at the positive resolution to his conversation with Allison. And he felt ludicrously hopeful at the realization that he might actually be able to trust her.
And the way Allison was enjoying her scallops—with throaty hums and tantalizing little flickers of her tongue against her full lips—was giving his body very particular ideas.
Perhaps, given the way things were going, they wouldn’t have to head back to D.C. after dinner. Perhaps they could spend the night here instead.
He was trying to determine the best strategy, the best way to broach the subject, when Allison scowled at him. “Stop looking at me like that.”
With a frown, he asked, “Like what?”
“Like you want to eat me or something.”
He felt a glint of amusement at her unconscious double entendre, and he arched his eyebrows suggestively.
To his delight, she actually blushed as she rolled her eyes—an unconscious gesture she couldn’t help that made him think again of the way, in so many ways, she seemed almost untouched.
It wasn’t that she was a naive virgin. It was that she’d never really given herself fully to a man before, not in the ways that really mattered.
Michael wanted to be the man she gave herself to.
Fighting her initial self-conscious reaction, she grumbled, “Get your mind out of the gutter. We’re supposed to fly back this evening.”
Jumping on the offered opportunity, he suggested, “We can always change our plans.”
“Michael,” she began, almost reluctantly.
His heart clenched at what sounded like the beginning of bad news. Keeping his voice light, he asked, “Afraid of being stranded in another storm?”
Her face softened into a smile. “Not exactly. But I do want to say something. It sounds like you're about to come on to me again, and I know from experience how good you are at that. But a series of one-night stands, even with the same man, isn’t really what I want.”
He swallowed, realizing what she thought, what he’d have to make clear to her. “It’s not what I want either.”
She sucked in an audible breath. “So what do you want?”
When the question was put to him so bluntly, he didn’t find it as difficult to answer as he’d thought. “I want more than that. If you want, I’d like to be with you for real.”
Allison seemed to have frozen, her fork halfway up to her mouth.
“Allison?” he prompted.
“But I live in D.C. And you live in New York.”
A rush of relief washed over him, at the knowledge that this was her first objection. If he’d had no chance, no hope, she would have started with something far different. “That’s not a serious obstacle. I believe in the last centuries they’ve invented a number of methods of getting us from one city to another.”
She couldn’t help but smile at his clever response. “And the fact that I’m a journalist?”
“That’s something I can deal with.”
“So you want a…a relationship?”
He couldn’t believe he was actually saying this, but he no longer had any doubts. He couldn’t get Allison out of his head, and he finally understood why. “Yes. But you don’t have to make any commitments right away, if it’s too soon. We can take it slow and see what happens.”
She thought for a long time, longer than Michael was entirely comfortable with.
Finally, Michael couldn’t stand the suspense any longer. “Allison?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. So she tried again. Her words were slow and sounded like she had trouble saying them. “Every time I start to think that something can work out between us, it blows up in my face.”
Her words were careful, but Michael understood what she meant with a wave of instinctive comprehension. “I know I haven’t treated you well,” he began.
She shook her head fiercely. “I’m not blaming or reproaching you. I’m just not sure I’ll be able to…”
She trailed off, leaving Michael hanging. He thought quickly, calling on all of his intelligence and intuition to figure out how to handle her fears. “Back then,” he said, going back to the beginning, “In Whitesville…”
He remembered that night with her so vividly, her sweetness and innocence and his absolute hunger for her. It had been too much, too intense. It had left him too vulnerable. It made him feel confused and guilty.
He’d assumed that meant it had been a mistake.
He had been a fool.
“I really cared about you,” she said, her voice cracking. “Back then. I thought…I might have been in love.”
The knowledge pierced his chest with an almost physical pain. “And I didn’t seem to care about you.”
She nodded.
He closed his eyes, wondering if there was any way to get past the way they’d first come together.
“I like you,” Allison said, looking a little awkward. “A lot. And there’s a lot about you that I want. But it’s complicated for me. Can I have a little time to think things over before I decide?”
It wasn’t what Mi
chael wanted, but it was better than nothing. At least she was taking it seriously.
And he had always been a patient man when it came to waiting for something he wanted.
He couldn’t remember wanting anything the way he wanted Allison now.
“Of course. Take all the time you need.”
* * *
Michael went out to walk on the beach after they finished eating. Allison felt a little uncertain after the way she’d left their discussion, so she said she’d help Nora clear the dishes.
She kept looking out the windows, though, at where Michael was walking on the sand. He was barefoot, and he’d rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. The sun was setting, and it cast a warm, orange light on his skin and dark hair.
He stared out at the ocean, and for some reason he struck Allison as infinitely lonely.
Her heart clenched with sympathy and with something deeper.
She wasn’t an idiot. She knew she’d fallen for him. She just wasn’t sure it was either smart or mature to keep letting her feelings string her along when she’d been hurt so many times by him in the past.
“Poor boy,” Nora sighed, glancing out at where Allison’s gaze was focused.
“He wouldn’t appreciate your pity.”
“Nope. You’re right about that. But he has it anyway. Looks lonely, doesn’t he?”
So it wasn’t just her imagination. He did look all alone on the wide expanse of empty beach.
She knew she’d hurt him a little with her hesitance, but she couldn’t blame herself for it. She had to do what was right for her.
She wondered suddenly why he hadn’t brought Ingrate with him. The dog was such good company for him.
She never would have believed, a couple of months ago, that Michael Martin would have fallen for a dog the way he’d fallen for Ingrate. She never would have believed that Michael would have committed to caring for a pet the way he had. She never would have believed that, however much he tried to hide it, he would pour out his affection on the animal.
She thought about the way he’d committed to Ingrate. And the way he’d committed to restoring the lighthouse, as soon as he’d made the decision that it was a cause worth pursuing.
Storm Front (Reunited Hearts) Page 13