Part 25 (2/2)
Reluctantly she glanced at his bedside clock. Eleven.
”Stay with me,” he said.
”I can't. I have to go by the hospital and ...”
And she wasn't ready to stay with him all night. That would be a commitment of sorts. She had to think about this.
His eyes seemed to tell her he knew exactly what she was thinking. ”All right,” he said. ”I'll take you to your car, or would you rather go to the hospital first? Either way, I'm sticking with you until you get home.”
”You don't have to--”
”I do, Meredith. And not just because of tonight.” He hesitated, then added slowly, ”You don't owe me anything, and I don't owe you. It was chemistry, and...” His voice trailed off.
”And?” she prompted.
”You've been under a lot of strain.”
”An easy mark, you mean.”
”No, dammit.”
”You want to see me home because of duty?”
”Well, there is some pleasure involved,” he admitted wryly.
'Chemistry'. It was certainly that. But it had been more, and she sensed he knew it as well as she did, regardless of his denials. ”And you?” she asked when it was very clear that he was not going to continue. ”What is your excuse? Have you been under pressure?”
He sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed and gave her a crooked grin. ”Except for tonight, this has not been my best week.”
”Why?” She couldn't turn her gaze away from him, from the firm, hard body that was so tanned and fit. Her body still tingled from his lovemaking. She thought the memory would always be in every fiber of her body.
He didn't answer. But as he had said, neither of them should expect anything from the other. A one-night stand, so to speak.
Had she hoped for anything else? She certainly hadn't wanted any entanglements. She had eschewed those long ago.
She watched as he stood and pulled on briefs, then jeans. He looked incredibly s.e.xy as he stood s.h.i.+rtless and with his hair messed.
He held out his hand. ”You never had that beer.”
”No,” she said.
”Now?”
”No.” Her comfort zone was gone, lost in the indifference of her host.
He drew a T-s.h.i.+rt over his head, and gathered her clothes and handed them to her. He was taking her at her word after she said she had to leave. No argument. No discussion.
It was what she wanted. Why did she feel so betrayed? She disliked people who played games and now she was angry because he hadn't. Not angry. Disappointed. Frighteningly disappointed.
She wouldn't let him see it. She put on her bra, then her blouse. She needed the armor it provided her. She concentrated on that. Then she reached for her panties and finally her slacks.
”Bathroom?” she asked.
”On the left,” he said.
She went down the hall and turned left into a large bathroom. Definitely remodeled. Older houses did not have elaborate bathrooms. This one had both a tub and large separate shower. Several clean towels were folded beside the wash basin.
She wondered whether it was the one he used, or a guest bath. If so, who were the guests? And he'd had protection in a drawer of his nightstand beside the bed. She didn't like the obvious answer to both observations.
Meredith looked at herself in the mirror that stretched across one side of the wall. Her hair was totally mussed. She ran her fingers through the curls, trying to bring back some semblance of order. But she could do nothing about the flush of her cheeks or the glazed look of her eyes.
She looked guilty as h.e.l.l and felt guiltier. She had not partic.i.p.ated in the s.e.xual freedom of her generation. She didn't make love unless there was a long-standing relations.h.i.+p of some kind. She never just ”hopped” in bed with someone.
Until now.
Weighed down by the fact, and by apparently how meaningless it had been to Gage, she washed her face to erase some of the telltale color, the tears that glimmered in her eyes.
Dammit.
She summoned a smile, then left the room. He was standing in the kitchen, watching a coffeemaker brew.
He turned. ”I thought you might like some coffee first.”
She would. She wouldn't sleep tonight at any rate, so she might as well indulge her love for caffeine. But that meant staying in his presence longer. She didn't want that. She feared she would reach out and touch his face again, and take his hand in hers. She feared the charged air that was still between them, and detested the fact that the need she had for him had been fed but not sated.
She looked around the house for more hints about its owner, but strangely she picked up few clues. The furniture was comfortable, the television big. But other than that the interior was bland, without character. Then she thought of the roses outside and Beast, who'd padded alongside her and now sat perfectly still at her feet.
The dog looked up at her pleadingly, and she leaned over and scratched his ears. She'd never had a dog though she had always wanted one. Her father wouldn't hear of it, and then she was in college and later was simply gone from home too much to be fair to an animal. She wondered how a cop managed to have time to care for him.
Gage handed her a cup of coffee. Black. He'd noticed her preference at one time or another. Or perhaps he didn't have cream and sugar.
He looked at her for a long moment after she took the cup in both hands. Intimacy was in that look, and something else she couldn't identify. She thought he was going to say something but he seemed to stop himself.
He waited until she'd finished her coffee, then turned toward the door. ”Let's go.”
'BISBEE'.
Holly looked through the on-line New Orleans newspaper with special interest. Today was the day her husband had planned to announce his race for the U.S. House of Representatives. He had to file with the state within the next three weeks.
There was no mention of any announcement.
Because she and her son would not be standing with him?
She had sat in on strategy sessions although she'd always been silent, just as she had been meant to be. She was there as an ornament, not for any meaningful contribution.
She was the daughter of one of the most powerful judges in Louisiana, and she was deemed a distinct a.s.set, along with her precocious, photogenic son.
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