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Lee suggested a walk outside before coffee and dessert. He said something to the waiter, and they left through the double doors, pausing once for Lee to sign a napkin for a fan who had recognized him.
“I like this place,” he said to Je
“The price of fame,” Je
He stopped short, looking down at her in the dim light from the lanterns on the footpath. “I guess I deserved that. You’re right.” He shook his head. “You certainly speak your mind, don’t you? I’ve tried that line on a few other girls, and they all murmured in deep sympathy.”
Je
Lee chuckled. “I prefer ‘refreshing candor,’ myself.” He took her hand and led her to a fountain in the midst of enclosing greenery. There was a wrought-iron bench there, surrounded by masses of brilliant geraniums and zi
“This is beautiful,” Je
“Yeah” Lee sighed, following the direction of her gaze. “It kind of makes you realize what this country must have been like before progress ruined it.” He picked a scarlet blossom from a bush behind them and handed it to her. “You look like a blonde Nakomis. About two generations before Hiawatha arrived.”
Je
“Think I’m a fu
“I think you’re a...nice guy,” Je
He turned to her abruptly and took her in his arms. Her head dropped to his shoulder, and he kissed her.
His lips were soft, a contrast to his hard, spare frame. The kiss began as a leisurely exploration, but soon escalated until Je
Lee didn’t seem to be bothered by the interruption. “I’ve missed you, Je
“We’d better go in,” Je
“Let them wait,” he said urgently, pulling her back against his chest.
“No,” Je
“I want to go back,” she said unsteadily.
Lee followed her reluctantly, then trotted up the steps to hold the door for her.
The minute they arrived back at the table a silver pot of coffee appeared, and a busboy brought a dessert cart filled with delicate pastries. Je
The coffee was Indonesian, rich and aromatic. They drank it in silence, the passionate interlude in the garden not forgotten.
By the time Lee signed the check and called for his car, Je
The drive back to her apartment was a quiet one, interrupted only by Lee’s comments on the scenery, and the click of the tape deck as it switched from the Everly Brothers to Jerry Lee Lewis. Lee’s long fingers tapped the steering wheel as he drove. Je
When they turned onto Main Street and Dr. Mason’s house came into view, every nerve in Je
He put one hand on her shoulder and tipped her chin up with the forefinger of the other. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“I...don’t think that would be a good idea.” She fumbled in her purse for her keys.
“Please, Je
She found her keys and he took them from her. She followed him upstairs, telling herself that she had to be firm. When he opened her door and ushered her into her apartment, she decided that she’d just make him coffee and then firmly send him home.
She went directly to the stove and put water on to boil.
“Would you like coffee, or would you prefer a drink?” she said, trying to keep her words even.
He didn’t answer.
Je
His mouth clung to hers with a fierceness that robbed her of breath. Her breasts were crushed against his chest by the force of one powerful hand splayed in the small of her back. She responded, helpless, and his lips moved to her cheek, her ear, and traveled down her throat. With one impatient gesture he removed her suit jacket.
His eyes devoured her, and then with a small sound deep in his throat he embraced her again. His hands sank into her thick hair, ru
“Where’s the bedroom?” he said, his voice low and husky in her ear.
His words brought her back to reality. She was one step away from an irrevocable act, and she panicked. He was holding her loosely, ready to move, and she slipped out of his grasp.
She faced him, her skin burning, knowing that she had teased him unfairly, without meaning to. “I can’t,” she said.
He stared at her, breathing hard, hands on hips, much as she had seen him the day she found him exercising. But there was another reason for his breathlessness now. She looked at him, so handsome, so desirable…And more than that He was courageous, sensitive, witty...Stop it! she instructed herself. I will not become involved with another athlete. Remember the last time, the hurt, the pain? The endless road trips, the losing streaks, the injuries, the groupies? Oh, no, don’t do it again.
“Why not?” he asked, agonized.
“I just can’t do it,” she said, realizing how unsatisfactory an answer that was, but unable to explain to him that she was afraid to let him get too close to her, that she didn’t want to be hurt again, that she thought he would have the power to hurt her even more than Bob Delaney.