If Winter Comes (11 page)

“My God, for what?” he
asked harshly, whirling to face her. His dark eyes blazed across the room.

The question stunned
her. In the sudden silence, she could hear the ticking of the clock by the
sofa, the sounds of traffic in the street as if they were magnified.

“Are you trying to
apologize to me for not being the woman I thought in my arrogance that you
were?” he asked, a new gentleness in his voice. “I don’t want that.”

She swallowed, dreading
the question even as she asked it. “What
do
you want?”

A wisp of a smile
turned up one corner of his sensuous mouth. “I could answer that in a
monosyllable,” he teased, watching the color come and go in her cheeks. “But, I
won’t.” He shot back his white cuff and glanced at his watch. “We’d better get
moving, honey. I ordered the table for seven-thirty, sharp. Ready?”

Confused by his sudden
change of mood, she nodded absently and went to get her long black coat with
its lush mink collar—an extravagance she’d once regretted.

He opened the door for
her but caught her gently by the arm as she started out.

“I’m glad the first
time was with me,” he said in a strange, low tone.

Her face went beet red.
She couldn’t seem to meet his eyes as they walked together to the elevator.

He took her to a quiet
restaurant downtown, with white linen tablecloths and white candles on the
tables, and a live string quartet playing chamber music. It was cozy, and
intimate, and the food was exquisite. But she hardly tasted it. Her mind was
whirling with questions. He seemed to sense her confusion as they lingered over
a second cup of rich coffee. He set his cup down in the saucer abruptly and
leaned back in his chair, studying her with a single-minded intensity that
began to wear on her nerves.

“You’re very lovely,”
he said without preamble.

“Thank you,” she
replied, and lifted her empty cup to her lips to give her nervous hands
something to do.

He drew an ashtray
closer and started to reach for his cigarettes when the waiter came back, and
he paused long enough to order another cup of coffee for them before he
finished the action.

“Men my age get used to
a routine of sorts with women, Carla,” he said gently, blowing out a cloud of
gray smoke from his cigarette. “You disrupted mine.”

“I…hadn’t thought you’d
expect that from me,” she said falteringly. “Not so soon, at least,” she added
with a wistful smile. “I thought I’d have time to…”

“Don’t start that
again,” he said. “I should have known what an innocent you are. All the signs
were there, like banners. I was just too blind to see them. Anyway,” he added
with a brief smile, “there was no harm done.”

“Wasn’t there?” she
asked, gazing quietly at the hard lines of his leonine face. They never semed
to soften very much, she thought, even in passion—especially in passion. She
flushed. “You were so angry,” she recalled.

He chuckled softly.
“Yes, I was. Hurting like hell, like I hadn’t hurt since years before I married.
I could have choked you to death. Not knowing the whole story, I thought you
were playing hard-to-get. And to tell the truth, I hadn’t planned to see you
again.”

That hurt, more than
she’d expected. Of course, most women her age were sophisticated and more
permissive. But she’d been a late bloomer in all respects. Even now, when just
looking at this dark, taciturn man could make her heart do flips, she couldn’t
consider an affair. She knew instinctively that it would tear her to pieces
emotionally, especially when it ended. And it would end sometime. He was too
sophisticated and far too worldly, to be satisfied with a novice for long.

“Why did you change
your mind?” she asked gently.

He lifted his coffee
cup with a well-manicured hand. “Because I missed you.” A fleeting smile played
around his chiseled lips. “It was unexpected. I’ve had women around since my
wife died, but only briefly, and in one capacity. It occurred to me, belatedly,
that I enjoyed having you around.” He looked straight into her eyes. “In any
capacity.”

Her lips felt suddenly
dry, and she moistened them with the tip of her tongue. “I couldn’t handle an
affair with you,” she said hesitantly.

“I won’t ask you to.
But, if you don’t mind, honey,” he added with a wry smile, “I think we’ll keep
it low key. I can’t handle frustration. It plays hell with my temper.”

She smiled
self-consciously, remembering. Her jade eyes looked into his. “I hope you know
that I wasn’t playing coy,” she added seriously.

“I know it now.” His
dark eyes studied that portion of her above the table with a sensuous boldness
that made her heart thump. “I’d say I wish I’d known it sooner, but I don’t. I
can still close my eyes and taste you.”

She felt the heat in
her face. “Low key, I believe you said?” she said breathlessly.

“Honey, for me this
is
low key.” He chuckled. “Finish your coffee, and we’ll take in a movie before we
go home. Do you like science fiction?”

“I love it!” she said
incredulously. “Don’t tell me you’re a sci-fi fan, too?”

“Don’t let it get around
but I sat through two showings of
Star Wars
,” he replied with a smile.
“And if you aren’t in a hurry for your beauty sleep, I’ll sit you through two
showings of this one.”

“Who wants to sleep?”
she asked, gulping down the rest of the rich coffee. “Why are you sitting
there?” she asked, standing. “The box office opens again at nine!”

“Just give me a minute
to ease my aching old bones out of the chair,” he chuckled, leaning forward to
stamp out his cigarette.

“Shall I get you a
cane?” she asked with a mischievous smile. Her eyes traced his formidable bulk
as he rose. “Or maybe a forklift?” she added, measuring him with her eyes.

“I’m not that big.”

“You’re not small,” she
returned. “I’ll bet that’s why you got elected.”

He scowled. “What is?”

“Your size. The voters
simply couldn’t see your opponents when they were out campaigning against you.”

His leonine head
lifted, and he stared down his straight nose at her through narrowed,
glittering eyes. “You,” he said, “are incorrigible.”

“Look who’s calling who
names,” she replied saucily. “You wrote the book on it.”

He smiled down at her,
a slow, wicked smile that was echoed by the look in his eyes. “Has anyone ever
told you that this kind of teasing raises a man’s blood pressure at least ten
points?”

She turned and started
toward the cashier’s counter. “I won’t do it any more,” she promised. “At your
age, that could be extremely dangerous.”

“Why, you little…”

“You’re the one who was
complaining about your age, not me,” she reminded him.

“You make me feel it,”
he said with exasperation in his voice.

She waited patiently
while he paid the check, her eyes drawn to an impressionistic study of
ballerinas on a huge canvas on the wall. The delicate pink and white contrasts
were exquisitely implied.

“Do you like ballet?”
he asked at her shoulder.

“Very much,” she
replied, turning to follow him out onto the sidewalk. “I studied ballet for two
years, until they convinced me that I simply didn’t have the discipline to be
good at it.”

“Discipline smooths the
rough edges around any talent,” he said with a sideways glance. “But I’d have
said you have it, as far as reporting goes.”

“Thank you,” she said
gravely. “I try to do my best. Although sometimes, it’s easier than others. I
could have gone through the ground that day I got into it with Edward King on
your ghetto tour.”

He raised a heavy
eyebrow at her. “That wasn’t the end of it, either,” he informed her. “I got an
earful when I walked into my office.”

She flushed. “He was
pretty mad, I guess,” she probed.

“Putting it mildly, he
was frothing at the mouth,” he replied.

She drew in a weary
breath. “I’m bound to do my job,” she said quietly. “I still feel that Mr. King
is being unnecessarily evasive about that land purchase, and I intend to pursue
it until I get the truth.”

His jaw tautened. “I
think you’re making a mountain out of a lump, little girl,” he said flatly.
“Ed’s like a mule. When someone tries to force him along, he balks. It’s in his
nature.”

“And not being put off
is in mine,” she returned with spirit. She stopped under a streetlight and
stared up at him. “Why can’t I see the records of the land purchase?”

“I told you before,
you’ll have to knock that around with Ed. I’m not interfering,” he said
gruffly.

“Green says…” She
caught herself just in time. It wouldn’t do to give away her hand, even though
she was dying to know if Green’s accusation about Moreland and King being such
thick friends was true. And it was beginning to look bad; almost as if Moreland
was involved, and had something to hide.

“Yes?” he said curtly,
taking her up on the unfinished statement, his face like a thundercloud. “What
does he say?”

She shrugged. “I’m
sorry. Sometimes I forget to leave my job at the office.”

He said nothing,
leading her to the parked car in an ominous silence. “I’d better get you into
the theater before we come to blows,” he said, and she could hear the anger in
his voice.

She felt a twinge of
guilt, glancing at his set features as he climbed behind the wheel and started
the black Jaguar.

“I’m sorry,” she said
gently.

Something in his
posture relaxed. He pulled out into the traffic, all without looking at her.
“Let’s leave politics alone from now on. We both tend to overheat a little.”

“All right,” she
agreed. She glanced at him again, her eyes searching his dark face for some
softening. There was none.

“I don’t hold it
against you that you’re the mayor,” she reminded him.

A hint of a smile
flared briefly on his lips. “I’ll trade jobs any time you like.”

“No, thanks.” Her eyes
were drawn to his dark, beautiful hands as he controlled the powerful car with
ease and skill. The onyx ring on his little finger sparkled in the sporadic
streetlights. “Why did you want to be mayor, anyway?”

“Are we conducting an
interview?” he mused.

“No,” she said, “but
I’m curious.”

“I saw some things that
needed to be done. They weren’t being done. I thought I could do them,” he
said.

“And, have you?” she
asked, genuinely curious, because her brief time in the city wasn’t enough for
her to know.

“Some of them,” he
admitted. “I’m bound by the city charter and the council. My hands are tied a
good bit of the time.”

“It looks like you’ll
get your redevelopment program through, though.”