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A sharp rap of the brass doorknocker interrupted any further argument her sons were about to give. They looked at each other, though, and then they looked at Eloise, each of them offering her an identical teasing grin.
“Mom, the door,” Carl prompted when she continued to stand and stare at them, her heart suddenly pounding, her purse and her coat gripped tightly in her hands.
“Yeah, Mom, the door,” Henry urged.
“Want me to get it?” John took a step forward.
“I’ll get it,” she said, her voice sounding odd—almost breathy—to her own ears.
She crossed the living room to the small foyer slowly, the boys naturally trailing along in her wake.
“Hey, he’s just an old friend with an opposing viewpoint,” Carl reminded her kindly when she hesitated a long moment, her hand clasping the brass doorknob.
“Right,” she muttered casting him a grateful smile.
“You look great, Mom,” Henry said, giving her shoulder a reassuring pat.
“And you’re smart, too,” John added for good measure.
Also just the tiniest bit terrified of what’s waiting for me on the other side of my front door, Eloise added silently, for her benefit alone. Then, drawing a steadying breath, she turned the bolt lock decisively.
She opened the door with a welcoming whoosh, then stood absolutely still, staring at Bill Harper with a barely contained gasp of astonishment.
She had thought she had been prepared to meet him again face-to-face for the first time in seventeen years. She had seen his picture in the paper often enough, as well as his image on the television screen. But he had been removed to a sure and certain distance on those occasions.
The lines and angles that made his face so appealingly attractive, the vitality in his bright blue eyes, the power and strength of his long, lithe frame had always been muted. Lounging casually on her doorstep, as he now was, elegantly dressed in a black tuxedo, his short salt-and-pepper hair neatly combed, his gaze direct, the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth warm and gracious, he was downright devastating, as were the memories that all too suddenly flooded through her.
As Eloise continued to meet his steady gaze, the years seemed to melt away under a rush of warmth edged with a longing that caught her completely by surprise. In those first few moments, she could think of him only as her old friend, her once dearest, most beloved friend—the man she could have married, would have married…if only. And she imagined, for the space of a heartbeat, how wonderful it would be to step into his arms that very moment, to hold him close and be held, in turn, by him.
Then, remembering that her sons stood right behind her, taking in the scene, no doubt much more avidly that she would have liked, Eloise gave herself a firm mental shake. Bill Harper had been her friend once, emphasis on had been. Now, as Carl had so nicely put it, he was her adversary. And as such, he threatened everything she had worked for with a fund-cutting flourish of his mayoral pen.
“Mr. Mayor,” she greeted him politely, offering her hand along with a dignified smile. “Come in, please, and let me introduce you to my sons.”
“Please, Eloise, call me Bill,” he replied, his tone equally polite.
He wrapped her hand in both of his far larger and much warmer ones, then held on to it just a tad longer than absolutely necessary, his blue eyes sparkling just as devilishly as her sons’ eyes had earlier.
“Of course…Bill.” She felt her cheeks warm as she finally managed to pull her hand free. Gesturing to each of her sons in turn, she added, “Carl, John and Henry.”
“Mr. Mayor, nice to meet you,” each said as he shook hands with them, showing the same warmth he’d shown her.
“Boys, nice to meet all of you, too.” He glanced at Eloise, his tone suddenly teasing as he added, “How on earth do you tell them apart?”
“It’s not always easy,” she admitted with a wry smile. “But I have my ways.”
“I’ll bet you do,” Bill said, his smile widening. “She’s not easy to fool, is she?” He directed the question to her sons.
“No, sir, not at all,” Carl replied as John and Henry exchanged amused glances.
“It’s good to know some things never change.” Bill favored Eloise with a look that struck her as all too familiar, not to mention much too knowing. Then he glanced at his heavy gold watch, the only jewelry he wore. “I suppose we’d better go. We don’t want to keep my constituents waiting, do we?”
“Not tonight,” she agreed, trying, unsuccessfully, to ignore her nervousness.
“Why don’t you let me help you with your coat?” Reaching out, Bill took it from her.
“Yes, of course. Thank you.”
Eloise glanced up at him again, and her cheeks warmed even more at the intensity still evident in his eyes, still plainly directed her way. Turning, she slid her arms into the silken sleeves of her coat as he held it open for her. As she fumbled with the rhinestone buttons, her fingers refusing to work properly, he put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed gently as if to reassure her in some way. The deft flex of his fingers through the fabric of her coat was not only heartening, but also disturbingly distracting.
Startled by an unexpected wave of heat that welled up deep within her, Eloise cast another wordless glance at Bill. His smile now had a mischievous hint to it, making her realize—as he must—just how easily she could once again become putty in his all-too-clever hands.
Taking a firm grip on her rioting emotions, and a decisive step away from the mayor, Eloise directed a stern look at each of her sons in turn.
“Bed by ten,” she reminded them.
“Yes, ma’am,” they chorused.
“I have my pager in my purse in case you need me for any reason.”
“We won’t,” Carl assured her.
“I doubt I’ll be out all that late,” she added.
Though she couldn’t say for sure, Eloise didn’t think Bill would want to spend any more time with her than absolutely necessary, especially once he’d attained maximum benefit from the photo ops attendant upon their being seen together in public. And, of course, she had no desire to linger in his company, either.
“You’d better not, Mom. You have to go to work tomorrow, and we all know how cranky you can be when you don’t get a good night’s sleep,” John admonished, his expression mockingly stern.
“Ah, so the lady still has to have a full eight hours of sleep to function,” Bill said, more than a hint of laughter lacing his voice. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”
Exchanging what appeared to be conspiratorial glances with her sons, Bill shook hands again with each of them, then opened the door and gestured with a stately flourish.
“Eloise…”
Feeling just the slightest bit at a disadvantage, she lifted her chin, forced herself to meet his gaze and attempted a haughty smile as she stepped into the hallway.
“Thank you, Bill.”
She couldn’t think how she had expected the evening to unfold, but she was fairly certain she had already lost most, if not all control of the situation, and they weren’t even out of her apartment building yet. She also knew she should be trying to eliminate what seemed like a serious disadvantage on her part. But oddly enough, she couldn’t seem to get motivated in that particular direction.
Not when Bill took her arm and escorted her onto the elevator. Not as they rode down to the lobby in silence, his presence beside her comfortingly familiar. Not when the doorman greeted them politely, and not when the driver did likewise as he opened the door of the long, black limousine for them.
Only as Bill settled close to her on the richly upholstered leather seat and the door closed with a solid thunk, sealing them into luxurious privacy did her heartbeat quicken. The warning bells that should have been ringing all along finally went off in her head, but it was too late—much, much too late. They were alone together, shut off from the world, if only momentarily. And Mayor Harper—Bill Harper—her former friend and lover, and now the perpetrator of the possible undoing of all she’d worked so hard to achieve the past twelve years, was reaching out, taking her small, cold hand and folding it into his much larger, warmer one.
“I haven’t told you yet how good it is to see you again, have I, Eloise? And it is good to see you, finally face-to-face. Not just good, great, really, really great…” he said in the same soft, low, utterly sexy voice that still sometimes haunted her dreams.
She knew she should offer him a snappy comeback, curt words cut with just the right amount of irony. Instead she clung to his hand unabashedly, unable to stop herself from allowing her truest, deepest feelings to be revealed. She had loved Bill Harper once, and that love had never completely died. To pretend that it had, no matter how important the reason, was something she was simply too honest to do.
“It’s good to see you again, too, Bill,” she said at last. “Really, really good…”
Chapter Two
Until the moment Eloise Vale looked up at him in the limousine and admitted she was glad to see him again, Bill Harper had been gliding uncomfortably on the edge of uncertainty.
Seventeen years had passed since she’d turned down his proposal of marriage. He hadn’t allowed himself to believe that she’d retained any but the most pragmatic feelings for him during the time they’d spent living their separate lives. And her outspoken, unabashedly negative opinion of his proposed cuts to city funding had made it all too possible that her behavior toward him might be downright hostile.
Bill couldn’t say for sure exactly what had motivated him to ask Eloise to accompany him to the Mayor’s Ball as his personal guest. In fact, he had debated for weeks whether or not to do it.
But some force deep inside him had warned with ever-increasing urgency that renewing his old acquaintance with Eloise—his beloved Eloise—was fast becoming a now-or-never proposition.
He hadn’t wanted her to continue thinking of him as an enemy, as she would have so easily been able to do at a distance. At the very least, he had wanted to find some way for her to be able to consider him a friend.
Though, in all honesty, he wanted more than friendship from her, so much more. And he had known, intuitively, that if he expected to have any chance of winning back her affection, he had to act without further delay, or live to regret it the rest of his life.
He had finally issued his invitation—not by telephone but by handwritten note—fully anticipating that Eloise would politely refuse. Instead, she had accepted via a graciously worded, handwritten note of her own.
Bill had reread that note daily during the two weeks since he’d received it—two very long weeks when he had also contemplated every possible reason why she might decide to bow out at the last minute. She hadn’t, of course. And, in fact, he should have known all along that she wouldn’t.
Eloise Vale had always been as good as her word, something Bill knew well from firsthand experience. She had honored her promise to marry Walter Vale seventeen years ago, hadn’t she? And though her decision had been a painful one for him to bear, Bill had admired her loyalty then as he did now, even knowing that tonight she was only there with him out of dedication to Manhattan Multiples.
He had been fully aware, as certain members of his staff had taken great pains to point out, that she could, and most likely would, use her attendance at the Mayor’s Ball as his personal guest to the advantage of her non-profit organization. But as he sat beside Eloise on the limousine’s plush leather seat, breathing in the light, fresh scent of her perfume, he saw the warmth in her pale-gray eyes as she met his gaze, and he knew that she really was happy to see him again. As happy as he was to see her, though she hadn’t sounded quite convinced as she’d said the words.
She was much too forthright to dissemble. And although her behavior toward him since his arrival at her apartment had been somewhat reserved, he had most certainly detected an underlying cordiality in her demeanor. He had seen the sparkle of anticipation in her eyes, the same anticipation he had felt as they’d met each other’s gaze for the first time in too many years. And he had known that it had nothing to do with causes to be won.
The source of Eloise’s inner excitement was much more personal, and thus much more heartening than Bill had dared to hope.
“May I say that you look lovely tonight?” he asked.
Finally feeling sure of himself and the rightness of his decision to renew his personal acquaintance with her again, Bill determined to take full advantage of the short, very private ride to the hotel where the ball was being held. He wanted to set aside, as much as he possibly could, all thoughts of the current conflict between them, and he wanted Eloise to do the same.
Inconceivable as he knew it would likely prove to be under the circumstances, he wanted them to be two ordinary people, a man and a woman, enjoying each other’s company as they got to know each other again. And he wanted to believe Eloise, too, had felt a jolt of electric attraction similar to the one he’d experienced when he’d helped her into the black silk coat that complemented her dress so well.
“Only if you mean it,” she replied with a wry smile, her tone not the least bit coy.
“I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”
“Thank you.” She looked down a moment, seeming shy all of a sudden, then glanced at him again, still smiling, her voice teasing as she added, “You look awfully nice yourself, Mr. Mayor. Very elegant, not to mention quite distinguished…”
“I appreciate the compliment, Eloise, but you don’t have to be so formal,” he admonished gently, unwilling to allow her to erect even that small barrier between them.
“Actually, I think I should, all things considered.” Though she still smiled up at him, she now did so with a slight, seemingly defensive tip of her chin. “And you’ve more than earned the title,” she added. “There’s no reason why you shouldn’t enjoy it.”
“While I can?”
“Your words, not mine.”
Eloise’s eyes flashed with a teasing gleam that brought back such a rush of memories Bill’s breath caught in his throat. He had forgotten what an excellent sparring partner she could be—bright and quick and full of humor. And remembering, he recalled, as well, that it had often been necessary to kiss her senseless in order to put an end to their verbal battles.
Much as he liked the idea, he didn’t dare do that now, though. He could, however, attempt to change the subject.
“Meant facetiously, of course.”
“Of course,” she agreed without any obvious sign of conviction.
“I enjoyed meeting your sons. You must be very proud of them, and rightly so.”
“I am—very, very proud. They can be a handful at times, and of course, they have only just entered their teens so I expect I’m going to have quite a few challenges to face, especially over the next couple of years. They don’t gang up on me nearly as much as they could. Still, I’m trying to prepare myself for whatever rocky times lie ahead. They’re basically good kids, though. And they seem to understand, more often than not, how much I’ve come to depend on their cooperation since their father’s death.”
“I was really sorry to hear about Walter.”
“Losing him the way we did was hard on all of us,” Eloise admitted. “He had always been in such good health and he’d just had a complete physical. The doctor assured me that the results of all the tests had been negative. They’d had no reason to suspect he might have a massive heart attack, and no way of foreseeing the possibility, either.”
“I wish I could have been here for the funeral,” Bill said, recalling how helpless he’d felt, stuck in a snowstorm in upstate New York, the one time he might have been of some help to her. “But I didn’t hear about his death until it was too late to get back to the city.”
“The flowers you sent were beautiful, and your card meant so much to me, too.” She hesitated a moment, looking away. “Walter always thought a lot of you. He always admired all of your hard work, too.”
“I always thought a lot of Walter, as well. And you, Eloise…”
Tentatively he took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. To his surprise and gratification, she didn’t pull away immediately, but held on to him as if grateful, as well, for the physical contact he had finally taken the chance of initiating.
“You’ve had your ups and downs, too,” she said after a few moments, glancing up at him again. “I was sorry to read about your divorce from Marnie Hartwell.”
“She’s a wonderful woman, very happily remarried with a third baby on the way. We had some good times together, but unfortunately, we had different priorities—something we refused to admit until after we’d married. At least our parting was not only mutually agreeable, but also amicable. Or as mutually agreeable and amicable as that kind of parting can be.”
There had been so much more to his rebound marriage and subsequent divorce than his simple statements indicated. But there wasn’t enough time now to give Eloise more than the sanitized version generally put out for public consumption. Not that he or Marnie had any deep, dark secrets to hide, but one day he hoped to be able to tell Eloise the whole truth about why his perfectly good marriage had ultimately failed.
“And you’ve been a confirmed bachelor ever since,” she said, now gazing at him with an assessing look, one eyebrow quizzically raised. “Although you always seem to have an attractive woman on your arm whenever you attend an event of any great importance.”
“Keeping tabs on my social life, are you, Eloise? I’m flattered.”
“Well, there’s absolutely no reason at all for you to be. Your picture is in all of the papers all of the time. Everyone in the entire city can keep tabs on your social life whether they want to or not.”
“True enough, but then I am the mayor.” He gave her hand another squeeze as the limousine pulled to the curb in front of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel and the milling photographers awaiting his arrival eyed the vehicle with sudden interest. “And tonight I have the most attractive woman I’ve ever known on my arm. I can’t even begin to tell you how proud and how happy that makes me feel.”
Taking advantage of Eloise’s momentarily stunned silence, he bent and kissed her lightly on the cheek. Then, as the driver exited the limousine, he flashed her an encouraging smile.
“Ms. Vale, it’s an honor to have you here with me tonight.”
“I bet you say that to all the ladies, Mr. Mayor,” she retorted in a wry tone, obviously having collected herself once again.
“Never once, to anyone else, Eloise. I swear.”
“Thank you, then…Mr. Mayor.”
He slanted a disappointed look at her, but she met his gaze unwaveringly, her demeanor cool and calm as she clung righteously to what was really nothing more than a mere thread of formality. Tonight he wanted her to think of him only as Bill Harper, but he couldn’t really blame her for choosing not to. They might have a history together, an intimate history filled with many, many pleasant memories. But here and now they were on opposite sides of a very important political fence, and they both had a lot at stake.
He knew that Eloise was no more likely to be bulldozed into changing her stance than he was. But he had no intention of doing anything like that tonight. Surprisingly enough, he had no hidden agenda at all for the evening ahead. He wanted only to enjoy the pleasure of her company. And he sincerely hoped that she would be able to enjoy his company, as well.
“Okay, have it your way,” he relented with a grin as the driver opened the rear door of the limousine.
