Seducing His Heart (7 page)

Terry joined her. “I can’t stay long.”

“
Long enough for
pie?”

“
Apple?”

“
Is there any other kind
for you?” She pushed to her feet and headed for the kitchen, Terry
following. Dumpling wandered over to her bed. She circled a few
times, curled up, and closed her eyes. “I tried a couple of new
things. Tell me what you think.”

“
Sure.”

Bess placed the plates on the counter.
“Which do you like better? Or are both bad?”

“
Bad? Your pie?
Ridiculous,” he said, tucking into the crumb one first.

They ate in silence for a while. “So? What’s
the verdict?” Her gaze met his.

“
Both. Love both. They’re
different. Apples and oranges…pun intended,” he said, chuckling at
his own joke.

“
No
preference?”

“
Can’t say. Maybe the
cheesy one is a little better. But they’re both great.” He stood up
and placed his hands on her upper arms. “We need to
talk.”

Her pulse kicked up, and
her heart raced.
Those are never good
words.
“What’s up?” She tried to keep her
tone casual, but the light of concern in his eyes showed her he
wasn’t buying it.

“
You know my work
is…difficult. Dangerous. Right?”

“
Yeah. I assume you’re
careful.”

“
Things have
gotten…out-of-hand on this assignment.” He rubbed his
eyes.

“
What does that
mean?”

“
It means I have to stop
seeing you.”

“
What?” She rose from the
stool.

“
I hate like hell to give
you up. I have no choice.”

“
What do you mean, ‘you
have no choice’? Everybody has choices…all the time.” A spark of
anger mixed with the adrenaline flowing through her
veins.

“
It’s not safe. I’m
putting you in danger. This is our last time together.”

“
You’re breaking up with
me?” Her mouth fell open.

“
Don’t put it like that.
Not breaking up. Only taking a break. A long break. Trying to keep
you safe, Bess. I don’t want to do this, but I have to.”

“
You don’t want to, then
don’t.”

“
Baby, it’s a done deal.
We’re through until things are safe. If you still want me
then…”

Emotion crawled up her chest. “If I still
want you?”

“
By the time it’s safe
again…who knows when that’ll be.”

“
So, this is the end of
us?”

He nodded. “I’m afraid so. Bess, you’re
great. The best.”

“
You’re not in love with
me. Never have been.”

“
You’re not in love with
me, either,” he responded.

But almost.
Fingers tightened around her heart and speaking
became difficult. His eyes were hooded and unreadable. She’d seen
the look before whenever she had questioned him about his work.
She’d disliked it then and hated it now.
“We’re heading there,” she said.

“
With a little more time,
who knows?” he said, stroking her hair. “But we’re out of time. We
have to call it quits.”

Bess burst into tears. Terry pulled her into
his embrace. “Don’t cry, baby. You’re the best. We had good
times.”

She clutched his navy
shirt as her tears wetted the fabric. Terry kissed her forehead and
ran his hands down her back. She pushed away from him, hunting for
a tissue. After cleaning her face, she stared at him.
He looks sad.
“I almost
think you’re sorry to leave.”

He huffed and shrugged. “What does a guy
have to do? Cut off his left nut to convince you I didn’t want to
do this?”

Silence followed. Terry checked his watch.
His cell dinged. When he snapped it closed, his gaze connected with
hers. She saw regret there. Emotion flared up, bringing fresh tears
to be blinked back.

“
Gotta go.” He headed for
the door. She followed, with Dumpling third in line.

“
Terry, I…” But the words
stuck in her throat.
What do I say? I love
you? I don’t, do I?

“
I know, babe. This is a
terrible way to end things. I get it. At least you’ll be
safe.”

He kissed her at the elevator then was gone.
The sudden draft of cool air that replaced the heat of his body
against hers brought his departure home. She stood frozen.

Whit’s door opened. He was tying his tie as
he joined her. “Hi. How are you?” He bent down to pet Dumpling, who
was panting and sniffing his leg.

Bess turned to look at him. His cool, gray
eyes set her off. Tears flooded forth, gushing down her cheeks. She
raised her hand to her mouth as she ran for her apartment. Whit was
right behind her, but the door slammed in his face. Bess threw
herself down on her bed and cried until she fell asleep with her
pug curled up next to her.

* * * *

A wrong number on her
landline woke Bess at two in the morning. After sleeping in her
clothes, she was uncomfortable and disoriented. She pulled at her
shirt, which was twisted around, and tugged her pants leg down.
Bess padded into the kitchen and checked her cell.
Will there be a message from Terry? Did I dream
our breakup?
Totally awake,
she put the kettle on to boil for tea. Dumpling
yawned, shooting an annoyed look at Bess for interrupting her
sleep. The pug promptly curled up in her kitchen bed and was
snoring almost immediately.

There was a message from Ned.

Am well enough to work. Will be at taping
tomorrow. Hope you have something new for next week. What are you
working on?

Bess smiled.
The pies. Perfect for next week’s show. Damn. I
have to be on camera. Look at me. Crying. I’m a mess.
She pulled out cucumbers, lay down on the sofa,
and put two slices on her eyes to reduce the puffiness. Classical
music played on her laptop. She tried not to think about Terry.
“The Nutcracker Suite”
came on.
Maybe I’ll get tickets for that at Christmas.
Nothing else to do. Sounds good. Maybe the Dinner Club will want to
go?

There was a knock on her door. She jumped,
and Dumpling barked. She opened it to find Whit, tie hanging loose,
shirt open, eyes a touch bloodshot. The faint aroma of rum swirled
around him.

“
That’s a little loud.
Some people are trying to sleep.”

“
Fully dressed?
Right.”

He put his foot in the door as she attempted
to close it. “I’m asking nicely.”

“
Don’t you like classical
music?”

“
The Nutcracker? Makes me
want to put on my tutu and prance around the living room. Yes, I
like classical. Not in the middle of the night.”

As she was about to agree to turn it down, a
feminine voice piped up. “Come to bed, Whit,” the whiny woman
pleaded.

Bess’s eyes widened. She peeked around him
to see Candy standing in her skimpy bra and panties in his doorway.
“I’d guess sleep is not on your agenda for the next hour.” She
pushed the door hard, but his hand shot up to stop it.

“
How the hell do you know
what’s on my agenda?” His eyes clouded. “An hour? You think I spend
an hour making love?”

“
I didn’t say
that.”

“
You did. You said exactly
that. I may have had a few tonight, but I know what you
said.”

Color heated her cheeks. “I didn’t mean it
like that. I picked a number out of the air.”

“
An hour. Out of the air.
How much time do you spend in the sack with your cop?”

At the mention of Terry, fresh tears
threatened. Words stuck in her throat.

His cocky expression melted into one of
concern. “What happened?”

“
None of your business.
None of your business how much time I spend in the sack with
anyone. Go to bed. Go to sleep. I don’t care. Leave me alone!” Her
barrage of words forced him back. She seized the opportunity to
slam and lock the door. Bess leaned her forehead against it.
Dumpling whined and sat at her feet. Tears dripped down her cheeks
and onto the floor.

She quieted down and heard
steps in the hall. Whit’s door closed gently. She let out a
breath.
Do I have to face him and the
women he’s screwing every day? Damn.

Her cell rang. It was Ned.

“
Are you okay?”

“
Why do you ask?” She
tried to control the shake in her voice.

“
Because I sent you a
text, and you didn’t respond. You always answer. Often with
something snide. It’s the highlight of my day. So, what’s
up?”

“
Nothing.”

“
Bullshit. Then why are
you up in the middle of the night?”

“
How do you know I’m
up?”

“
You answered on the first
ring, and you don’t sound sleepy. Unless you’re doing something
naughty with your hot cop and I interrupted?”

“
Nope. I’ll be ready for
the taping tomorrow. And I do have something new. Can you come
tomorrow to taste?”

“
Dinner thrown
in?”

“
Of course.”

“
I’ll be
there.”

“
Good.”

As she was about to hang up, he spoke up.
“And whatever it is, I hope it gets better. I hope you’ll be
okay.”

“
I will. Thanks,
Ned.”

“
Love you,
lady.”

“
Love you,
too.”

She sighed and closed the phone. After
washing up, she shed her clothes and climbed back between the
sheets. Dumpling joined her. She slept deeply until eight o’clock,
when the alarm woke them both.

She dragged herself out of
bed. Exhaustion made every step a chore.
Taping day. Get going. The show must go on. Come
on.

After a shower, Bess threw on jeans,
harnessed Dumpling, and headed to the studio. They had a wardrobe
for her there. Dumpling joined her, except while they were taping,
when the noisy pug was relegated to the back room.

Once she was there, Bess’s
mind was taken up with baking. Ned’s presence helped. He kissed her
cheek when he saw her. Their gazes locked.
He always knows when there’s something wrong.

Bess couldn’t shake the
heaviness in her chest. It stayed with her throughout the day. The
mocha magic recipes, products, and program were a success. The
tasters from the audience raved. Bess was able to toss in a line
about the aphrodisiac properties of the chocolate and coffee
mixture then laugh it off.
I’m becoming an
actress, too.

After the audience left, her producer, Woody
Bledsoe, approached her. “That mocha stuff rocks. The show was
great. A big winner. We’re gonna re-run it when you go on vacay.
Brilliant, Bess. Great job.”

She smiled and thanked him.

Ned tugged on her arm. “Let’s go,” he said
to her then turned to the producer. “She’s got some fabulous new
take on apple pie.”

“
Go, go. Don’t let me get
in the way. You’re amazing, Bess. Very creative. Ratings are
good.”

“
Thanks, Woody. I needed
that today.” She slipped her hand through Dumpling’s leash loop and
walked out with Ned and the pug.

Once they were on the street, Ned narrowed
his eyes. “Okay. Out with it. I want the truth. What the hell’s
going on?”

The story tumbled out, at
first in words so fast she couldn’t stop, then in fits and starts.
She swallowed to control her emotions. Terry’s absence hadn’t sunk
in yet.
Tomorrow is Friday. I’ll feel it
then.
Ned took her hand as they walked up
the avenue. The late afternoon breeze turned colder, making her
shiver.

Crash tipped his hat and bent to greet the
dog, who gave him her paw. Once inside the apartment, Bess fed
Dumpling then offered Ned the sample pies, explaining what she had
done and why. It wasn’t long before they were immersed in
discussion about the recipe, cinnamon quantities, directions, and
cooking times.

Ned curtailed his usual sarcastic attitude.
Bess silently thanked him, as her nerves were raw and her patience
gone. Focusing on the cheesy apple pie helped her body absorb the
sadness flowing through.

“
Dessert first, now
dinner? This is whack,” Ned said.

“
You were sick. You missed
my spaghetti and meatballs.”

“
The meal you made to go
with cannoli?”

“
I’ve got some leftover in
the freezer. How about I heat it up?”

“
Sounds great.”

While Bess worked in the kitchen, Ned
regaled her with the trials and tribulations of his relationship
with Serge, his boyfriend of six months. She laughed, made
sympathetic noises when appropriate, and was grateful for the
diversion.

Ned raved over Bess’s Italian cooking and
kept her up until ten. After he left, she slipped on her jacket and
took Dumpling out for her late night walk. They strolled down
Central Park West, not in a hurry, with no particular place to
go.

On the way back, a taxi pulled up. Whitfield
Bass got out. He smiled at her and stood aside to let her enter the
building first. “Are you feeling better today?” he asked as they
rode the elevator.