by Pat Warren
His appetite had faltered, as well. “You can sleep in my bed. I’ll take the couch.” He had a feeling she wouldn’t invite him to lie with her, even if nothing happened. Probably because this time, it was highly possible that something would.
“No, really. I need to get home, check my mail, the answering machine.” She rose, hoping he wouldn’t make this too difficult. “You finish eating. I’ll just slip out and grab a cab.”
“You will not. If you insist on leaving, I’ll drive you.” He stood up, watching her closely.
Why did she feel so terrible? “I’m sorry, Joel.”
He stepped closer, took her hand. “For what?”
She felt confused, twitchy. “I’m not sure.”
He lifted her hand, turning it, and bent to place his lips gently in her palm. His thumb on her wrist, he felt her pulse scramble. She tried to pull her hand back, but he held on, his eyes rising to meet hers. The look held, speaking volumes.
“Joel, you said all you wanted from me was friendship, remember?”
“Friendship, for now, I said. And I told you we’d worry about later later.” He tugged on her hand and brought her body close up against his. “Later’s here, Hannah.”
“Joel, I think…”
He touched a fingertip to her lips. “Shh. You think too much.” His eyes locked with hers, he ran his fingertip over her top lip, then traced the fullness of her lower lip. Her mouth trembled open as her breath hitched in her throat. He kissed the corners, then placed feathery kisses on her cheeks, on her eyelids, which closed as if too heavy to stay open, and moved down to taste the sweet column of her throat. He didn’t rush, didn’t demand. Just moved lazily, letting her needs build.
Finally, he settled his mouth on hers while his hands moved to the back and slipped under her sweatshirt. He felt her shiver as he stroked the soft skin there, moving to the sides along her rib cage, then shifting to the front and closing at last around her breasts. She moaned low in her throat at the contact as he deepened the kiss.
Her breasts were small and firm, fitting perfectly in his hands. His fingers traced the sensitive skin as he felt her grip his upper arms. She didn’t resist but didn’t participate wholly either. It was as if she were fighting an inner battle, unable to make up her mind to take part or take flight. Patiently, Joel waited, his tongue mating with hers.
As before, he sensed a passion within Hannah that she seemed to struggle against, to want to deny. Why would a beautiful, desirable woman fight her own sexuality? he wondered. Scars from the past, undoubtedly. Maybe he could make them disappear.
His mouth pressed down on hers, coaxing a deeper response, urging her without words to touch him, to give in to her own needs, to answer his. Her breathing was ragged, her knees shaky. His body’s demands were making him desperate. Her special taste had him throbbing, her clean scent robbing him of all coherent thought. He wanted her now.
Slowly, so as not to frighten her, Joel slipped his hands beneath the waistband of her slacks, then inside the last satin barrier. With a groan, his fingers reached her. Soft, warm and wet, she was as ready as he. He stroked once and felt her convulse against him.
Stunned, breathing hard, it took Hannah a few moments to recover. Trembling, she stepped away from him, shaking her head. “No! No, I can’t do this.”
It wasn’t the reaction he’d expected. Joel moved to her, urging her back into his arms. “Why not, Hannah? You must know how much I want you. I won’t hurt you.”
Yes. Yes, he would. It would happen again, the way it had the last time, if she gave in. “Please, let me go.” She shoved against him, turned and left the kitchen.
He went after her, angry, confused. “What’s wrong? What are you afraid of?”
She couldn’t, wouldn’t, answer him. On the chair was the jacket she’d shed earlier. She struggled into it, then picked up her shoulder bag. “I’m sorry” was all she could think of to say as she yanked open the apartment door.
“Wait! Your suitcase. Damn it, let me drive you.” He looked around for his shoes.
“No. I’ll get it another time.” She rushed across the hallway and punched the button for the elevator.
In his doorway, Joel jammed his fists onto his hips. “I’m not him, Hannah. Not like him at all. I wouldn’t hurt you.”
The doors opened, and she stepped inside. Then she turned and looked across at him. “Yes, you would. Maybe you wouldn’t plan to, but you would.”
The doors slid silently shut as Joel stood watching. “Damn whoever hurt you,” he whispered, then closed his door with a resounding thud.
Chapter Nine
“This time, Ms. Richards, I promise to follow through,” Ellen Baxter said. She sat at the big diningroom table at Sanctuary, holding her daughter, Carrie, on her lap. Her hand shook as she smoothed the blond hair back from the child’s thin face. An ugly bruise stained Carrie’s left cheek, and there was a bandaged cut above her right eye. “This time Rod’s gone too far.”
Seated across from her, Hannah wasn’t sure if she believed Ellen. It had been her experience in these battering cases that the women usually didn’t take action until the husband involved the children. But Ellen’s history of leaving, then returning to Rod was long and depressing.
“I hope you mean it, Ellen,” Hannah said, taking out her pen. She glanced through the archway where Carrie’s brother, Ryan, was watching cartoons, his cheeks still red from the slaps he’d endured. Their outer wounds would heal, but what internal harm had Rod Baxter inflicted on his children?
“I believe your restraining order is still valid,” Hannah went on, rummaging through her briefcase for the copy she’d made. She found it and checked. “Yes, it is. Now, Ellen, do I need to tell you again that you must not go to him and give him access to you and the children?”
Lee Stanford, seated next to Ellen, jumped in. “I talked to Ellen before I called you. She promised me she’d stay here until this thing is settled.” From the candy dish on the table, she picked out a red lollipop and held it out to Carrie. “Here, sweetie. I’ll bet this’ll make you feel better.”
Carrie stared at Lee with her big eyes, but didn’t make a move to take the sucker.
“It’s all right, honey,” Ellen said, taking the candy and removing the wrapper. “I hate to see her like this, afraid of everyone.”
Hannah took out a yellow pad. “All right, Ellen, tell me exactly what happened.”
Speaking through puffy lips, Ellen told her story. It wasn’t a pretty one, especially concerning the children.
Ellen pressed a tissue to her damp eyes with her free hand. “They wanted a snack, some cookies and milk, but Rod hadn’t given me any money in a long while, so I hadn’t shopped. I asked him for a couple of dollars so I could go to the store. That’s when he blew.” She sniffled into her tissue. “He’s never hit them before. It’s just the job loss, you know. He feels like a failure.”
Hannah stopped writing. “Ellen, don’t make excuses for him. There are no acceptable reasons for a man who strikes his wife and children. Not a job loss, not a lack of money, nothing justifies what Rod has done.”
Ellen nodded, her eyes downcast. “I know.”
She knew intellectually, but was she really convinced? Hannah wondered. “How did you get away from him?”
“I did a terrible thing. I reached behind me and grabbed a skillet from the stove. I…I hit him with it.”
Hannah was surprised. “What did he do?”
“He fell backward. It sort of dazed him. If he’d have been sober, it probably wouldn’t have, you know, ‘cause he’s real strong. He was cursing and swearing, so I grabbed Carrie and ran to the car. Ryan was outside, and I hustled them both in and we drove off. Rod was on the porch by then. I could see him in the rearview mirror. He was furious, but I had to do it, don’t you see? I couldn’t let him hurt the kids no more.”
Lee reached over and patted the woman’s thin shoulder. “Of course you did the right thing, honey.”
<
br /> “What do you want me to do?” Ellen asked her attorney.
“Well, for starters, all three of you must not leave the premises. Lee, I know you won’t let Rod in if he should somehow find Ellen. And don’t accept calls from him. Can you take Ellen and the children to the hospital to be thoroughly checked out? I want their injuries on record.”
“Right after lunch,” Lee said.
“Good. You still have the camera I brought over?” Hannah saw Lee nod. “Terrific. I want pictures of all the injuries on all of you.”
“Then what?” Ellen wanted to know.
“We’re going to charge Rod with assault and battery.”
“Will I have to testify?”
“Probably. Do you think he’s still at the house? Does he have relatives he might go stay with?”
“I don’t know if he’s at the house. We don’t have relatives here, none at all. Rod’s father lives in Tennessee, but we never hear from him.”
Hannah slipped her pad and pen back into her briefcase. “I don’t want you to worry. We’ll get him this time, as long as you don’t back down again.” She rose as the front doorbell rang and Lee went to go see who was there.
Ellen looked at her two children sitting close together on the floor watching television. “I won’t, I swear.”
Hannah gathered up her things as voices in the front foyer came nearer. She looked up and saw Lee carrying several boxes of diapers. Following behind her was a familiar tall figure.
“Look who’s here,” Lee said, setting down her bundles on the table. She turned to the man with a smile. “Joel, thanks so much for all this. And thank your mother for me. It’s so sweet of her to help out. Baby food, canned goods, flour, sugar. Cookie’s going to be thrilled.”
Joel set the large box he’d brought in on the table, his eyes on Hannah. It had been two days since she’d left his apartment upset and trembling. He hadn’t seen her since and noticed that his unexpected arrival had unnerved her.
“I didn’t know you knew Lee,” Hannah said. She’d been avoiding him again, her feelings still in a jumble. Perhaps it was best that she ran into him here with others around instead of alone. Perhaps if she made no reference to their last time together, he wouldn’t, either.
“Oh, Joel’s been bringing us supplies for a couple of weeks now,” Lee explained. “His mother’s been doing some fund-raising for us, as well.”
Joel picked up the explanation. “I told Mom about Sanctuary after she met you on Thanksgiving. She belongs to several organizations that do fund-raising, so I had no trouble persuading her to include this place on their lists.”
“I see,” Hannah murmured, though she really didn’t. There were a dozen or more shelters in and around Boston. Why had he directed Mrs. Merrick to this one?
“Mom got hold of a sewing machine, Lee,” Joel went on. “It’s used but works just fine. I couldn’t fit it in my car, but I can have someone drop it off later, if you could use one.”
“Wonderful,” Lee said. “We often get donated clothes that need repairs. And we have several bolts of cloth in the closet that someone gave us. Maybe one of our residents can sew.”
“I’m a fairly good seamstress,” Ellen said shyly. “My mother taught me. I make most of the children’s clothes.”
Lee gave her a grateful smile. “That’s wonderful.”
Hannah put on her jacket. “I’ve got to run. Ellen, I’ll be in touch. Lee, thanks for calling me. I’ll see you both later.” She looked up at Joel, at a loss as to what to say. His eyes were so blue today, but not smiling. “I guess I’ll see you at the office.”
“I’m leaving, too.” He turned to Ellen and Lee. “Ladies, I hope you can make use of all that stuff.” He trailed after Hannah toward the door.
“Yes, indeed,” Lee called after him. “Thanks again.”
Outside, a chill wind had Hannah turning up her coat collar as she went down the porch steps heading for her car parked at the curb. Maybe Joel would walk on to his Mercedes in front of her Volkswagen without another word.
The day pigs fly, she thought as he came up alongside her.
“How’ve you been?” he asked, wishing she didn’t look as if she wanted to bolt.
“Fine, thanks.” She unlocked the passenger door and tossed in her briefcase and shoulder bag.
Joel stopped by her open door. “I went to see Will a while ago. He told me I just missed you.”
“Yes, I was there early. He looks so much better, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah, he does.” He decided to jump in and test the waters. “Do you have time to go somewhere and have a cup of coffee? I’d like to talk with you.”
Hannah made a great show of checking her watch. “I’m afraid not. I’ve got too much work to do.” She shut her car door and pulled her keys from her jacket pocket. “Besides, I’ve just had coffee with Lee. But thanks, anyway.” She started to walk around to the driver’s side.
Joel touched her arm. “Are you angry with me?”
He wasn’t going to let it go. Hannah shook her head. “No. If I’m angry with anyone, it’s me. I should never have let things go as far as they did. I don’t want a relationship. If I did something to make you believe otherwise, I apologize.”
“Why? I don’t understand. You’re attracted to me— you’ve already admitted that, not that I couldn’t see for myself. I certainly am to you. We’re both free. What’s holding you back?”
She felt cornered. “Look, Joel, I don’t want to go into this now, here on a cold and windy street. I…”
“Then when? When do you want to discuss it?”
“Actually, I don’t. Friends, that’s all I want us to be. I can’t handle anything more than that. I have my reasons, but I don’t want to go into lengthy explanations. Suffice it to say that I’m perfectly content with having you as a friend. Period.”
She was hiding, running from her own feelings. He had to know why. “I care about you, Hannah. Doesn’t that matter to you?”
His persistence was annoying her. “You care? I thought love-’em-and-leave-’em was more your style. Get them in bed and then move on. Tell me that isn’t so.”
There was some truth to what she said. “I used to be like that, I admit. Until I met you.”
She gave him an incredulous look. “Right. I came on the scene, and bingo! Suddenly, you’re a changed man. Because I’m such a beauty, so irresistible. Is that what you want me to believe?”
“You are beautiful, and I do find you irresistible. Why can’t you believe that?”
“Because I’m a realist and I can’t be won over by smooth flattery. I’m average, Joel, not a stunner. I don’t set men’s hearts to beating wildly. I…”
He grabbed her arms and yanked her to him, taking her mouth with his. He kissed her deeply, passionately, lengthily. When he let her go, he saw the glazed shock in her eyes. Taking her hand, he placed it under his jacket on his chest over his heart. “Can you feel that wild beating? Do you think I can fake that? Maybe you need to reevaluate your effect on men. Maybe you should stop hiding behind something that happened in your past and open your eyes to the present. You might very well be passing up the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”
He let her go then and marched to his Mercedes, more angry than aroused. Without a backward look, he climbed in and took off with a juvenile squeal of tires on damp pavement.
Hannah Richards had to be the most obstinate, exasperating woman he’d ever met. Why he wanted her was a mystery to him.
Yet he did.
Hannah was having a good day. First, she’d been to see Will and he was out of intensive care and sitting up in bed, looking so much better. The doctor had said he planned to release his patient in a day or so. And she’d had a marvelous day in court with Dawn Carruthers at her child-support hearing.
Her footsteps light, Hannah entered her office building the back way and hurried to Marcie’s desk. “Did you hear? Will’s going home soon.”
The older wo
man stopped typing. “Oh, that’s wonderful news. I was planning on visiting him after work.”
“You’ll probably find him strolling up and down the hall. They’ve got him up walking, he’s eating regular food and his color’s good.” Hannah removed her coat and opened her briefcase. “And wait’ll you see this.” She handed the folder to Marcie.
Pleased at Hannah’s buoyant mood, Marcie opened the folder and glanced at the top paper. Her face broke into a big smile. “You nailed him, eh?”
“Sure did.” Hannah sat down on the vacant chair and leaned forward. “I can hardly believe how arrogant Adam Carruthers is. He came in the courtroom dressed in what had to be a five-hundred-dollar suit, with imported leather shoes and a gold Rolex watch, carrying a hand-tooled briefcase. And he was there to get his child-support payments reduced when he’s seven thousand in arrears. Do you believe the nerve of the man?”
Marcie shook her head. “Some people. Who was the judge?”
“Judge Bannister, and I thought we were sunk. He’s a tough old bird, or so I’d been told. He listened patiently to Adam pleading poverty, saying he’d had to turn in his BMW for a Ford because he couldn’t keep up the payments, that he was representing himself because he couldn’t afford an attorney. And so on. Meanwhile, we pointed out that Adam had let the kids’ health insurance lapse, that Dawn couldn’t afford to buy new winter coats for them and that they usually ate pasta without meat three times a week for lack of money.”
Waiting for the punch line, Marcie leaned forward. “So what’d the judge do?”
“He called Adam up to the bench and asked him to empty his pockets onto the clerk’s desk. Adam objected, but the judge insisted. In his gold money clip was over eleven hundred dollars. Judge Bannister handed the money to Dawn right then and there, and told Adam he had until five today to get the balance of the seven thousand arrearage to the clerk or go to jail. And he increased his future child-support payments.” Hannah laughed out loud. “You should have seen the big jerk’s face. He was absolutely stunned. When he tried to object, the judge looked pointedly at his own watch and said he’d better hurry because he had only three hours to cough up the money or get his jammies for a night in the clinker.”