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“Alright, love, but be careful. He’s had a few serious wounds. Best of luck.”
I’ve had some bad scratches myself, she thought, as she dialed Jon’s number.
“Ecklund.” He couldn’t know that the sound of his voice disarmed her.
“Yes.” He spoke sharply.
“Jon, this is Haley.”
“Yes, Haley? I was leaving my office when the phone rang. What is it?”
“I’m extremely sorry about my rudeness.” She realized she sounded stiff and formal. “I…I just panicked. I’ve never done such a thing before.”
“Is the fact that you’ve given me this singular honor supposed to soothe my ego?” he asked, his tone as bitter as his words.
“Please don’t hold it against me.”
“What prompted it, Haley? Frankly, I was shocked.”
He wasn’t going to help, and she didn’t blame him. “I called because I would never deliberately attempt to hurt you. I confess that my reaction to you confuses me.”
“Why should you panic? Because you’re accustomed to being in control, and you’re not? Well, neither one of us is. Look, I’d settle for some honesty between us. You were honest when you danced with me that night at Nels’s party. But because I didn’t know where I was headed and showed it, I earned your displeasure and perhaps your distrust. I called you today to put it right. The ball is in your court now. I want to know you better, but crawling is not something that I do.”
“We could have dinner together tomorrow night.” Had she said that? She knew that she would regret it. She could never be indifferent to this man. And yet she could not—would not—open herself to the possibility of another demoralizing intimacy.
“What about that urgent proposal?”
“Dinner with you may be just what’s needed to expedite it,” she said, cryptically.
Jon pondered that for a bit.
“I’ll call for you at seven-thirty.” She hadn’t given him her address, but he’d get it just like she got his telephone number—from Nels.
He leaned forward, elbows on his desk, hands together and fingers spread pyramid fashion. Why had he agreed to that date? When he’d heard her voice, he’d felt a yearning for her that he hadn’t had for a woman in years. He’d been alone by choice for five years, forcing himself not to want, not to need. But she made him want, made him need, made him ache. He hungered for her. He’d suspected that her cool composure was a farce, a facade, a cover for the softness that she had unwittingly displayed in unguarded moments when they danced.
One thing was certain: Haley Feldon did not want to be soft or passionate. She was trying to project an image of being cool, tough and unattainable. He’d have dinner with her, yes, but he’d be damned if he was going to be sucked into a quicksand of emotion.
He closed his eyes, and the vision of her floated before him. He could see her doe-soft, beguiling brown eyes, and he shuddered. Hell, what he needed was fifty laps in his upstate pool.
“Ecklund, you’re losing it,” he said aloud. But his spirits buoyed for reasons that he didn’t bother to examine. He left his office whistling “If I Loved You.”
Chapter 2
Haley dressed in a strapless antique-gold silk dress that revealed just enough cleavage to make a man’s mouth water. She carried the matching jacket on her arm. Jon arrived precisely at seven-thirty, and when she opened the door, they stared at each other. He recovered first.
“Hello, Haley. You seem more beautiful tonight than ever.” He was not sure how she would react to his comment or what she wanted of him. But she had certainly dressed in a way that pleased him.
“Welcome to my home, Jon. You look wonderful,” she said, mostly because she was nervous. And so he did. He wore a tan summer suit, beige silk shirt, a burnt-orange-and-brown-striped tie and brown Gucci loafers. She’d never found blond men attractive, but this one was something special. He was the quintessential male—strong, sensual and controlled. Jon personified virility. And his mouth, with the full bottom lip, was his best feature.
“May I come in?”
She realized she’d been staring again.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She stepped aside, and he walked in a few paces. Then without knowing that he would, he stopped in front of her, a breath away. She looked up at him, wide eyed and a little frightened.
Jon told himself to use some judgment and move away. But he hadn’t realized how badly he’d wanted to see her, to be with her, to hold her. He touched her cheek with his thumb. She didn’t move. He ran his thumb back and forth over her lower lip. She didn’t move. He pulled her into his arms, lowered his head and took her mouth. Was he dreaming or what? She had her arms around his neck, her fingers were in his hair and her lips were moving beneath his. He wanted more and asked for it, offering her his tongue. She parted her lips, pulled it into her mouth and gently sucked it.
Sensing that he was about to lose control altogether, abruptly he sought to break the kiss, not wanting to expose his need for her. He didn’t want her to feel the indisputable evidence of it. But she wouldn’t let him go, holding him to her until the shocking force of his physical desire against her belly restored her presence of mind. They broke apart. He braced both hands against the wall above her head, needing the support and simultaneously trapping her between him and the wall. From hooded eyes, he looked at a spot just over her shoulder. She drew a deep breath, preparing to speak, but he stopped her.
“Haley, don’t tell me that you don’t want to see me, that you don’t want to spend time with me. I don’t want to hear it.”
“Jon, I… I don’t know—”
He interrupted. “What don’t you know? Woman, you damned near devoured me just now. At least acknowledge that you want me just as much as I want you.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“All right.” He touched her nose lightly with one finger and then smiled down at her. “Let’s go. We need to get out of here.” She stood there, observing him intently, as if seeing him for the first time.
“What is it?” he demanded softly.
“That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile. You grinned once, and I think you laughed once, too. But you’ve never just smiled.” He was devastating when he let that smile light his face. His mouth softened, became even more sensuous and inviting. The sparkles in his fern-green eyes warmed her all over.
She let him see her sweetness then, her softness, and the primal female in her. And she didn’t bother to hide the fact that when she looked at him she liked what she saw.
Jon had chosen an Italian restaurant with a quiet, attractive ambience. Their dinner was pleasant but uneventful. They hardly spoke to each other, and they barely ate. Both were overwhelmed by their unexpected feelings, and both were wary. They left the restaurant in silence. When they reached his car, he put an arm around her shoulder.
“When will I see you again?” he softly whispered against her ear.
She hesitated.
“Is there a man to whom you are in any way obligated or committed?”
“There is no one else.”
His heartbeat accelerated. Her answer suggested that he was a man in her life. “Haley, I have been divorced for five years. It was a painful marriage. I still don’t know whether I can face loving and the intimacy it implies ever again.” He paused for a long while. She waited patiently for him to continue, but in her eyes, he saw fear.
“Until tonight, I had thought that you and I were probably incompatible. Now, I’m not so sure. Do you want to know whether what we experienced back there at your front door means anything? Whether we really could have something magical? Would you try to learn who and what I am and teach me who and what you are? If you don’t want that, then just say so. We’ll have spent a pleasant evening, and we’ll say goodbye.”
She measured her words carefully. “If you’re willing to go slowly, if you will be patient…I want to try. It won’t be easy for me.”
“Nor for me.”
He brushed her cheek lightly with his knuckle. “Whatever happens between us, Haley, please be honest with me. That’s all I’m asking right now.” She hugged him quickly and released him.
He raised one eyebrow quizzically in response.
“You asked for honesty. That was some honesty,” she said.
Laughing, he tucked her into the car, took her home and left her at her front door.
Had she really hugged him spontaneously like that? Jon lay in his bed, the room lit only by the stars. He was ordinarily a man who went to sleep when sleep was what he wanted. But on this night, sleep was elusive, waylaid by his visions of her. He wanted to believe that he could find true union with her. He knew that she was strongly attracted to him, but she had given him no reason to think that she possessed the compassion that would bring him the sweet communion that he had yearned for all of his adult life. Could he risk it? Hadn’t he promised himself that he would never again allow himself to need another woman? Hadn’t he had enough experience with the consequence of such folly? At half past three in the morning, he left his bed, showered, dressed, got in his car and went to his Madison Avenue office. At least he could catch MacKenlin out in Nairobi, where it was already just after ten o’clock.
“Hello, Ian, Jon Ecklund, here. You’ve been difficult to reach. Any problems?”
“Morning, Jon, I’ve been over in Sortundi. There are problems, yes, but not the kind you have in mind. Half of the developed countries in the world are sending food and medicine to the sick and hungry in northeastern Africa, but most of it isn’t getting through.”
“Why not?”
“Well, as far as I can judge, there’s politics, bureaucratic bungling, indifference on the part of officials, plain incompetence and just about any other obstacle you care to name. My preference is for a story about that rather than about the people who are suffering. That’s hardly news.”
“It’s your story. Get it. If you take pictures, be careful. It could be dangerous. In any case, you’ve got my support. If you need something, give me a call.” As he hung up, it occurred to him that an investigative report of that sort might cause a slackening off of help to that region. Well, needy people weren’t getting the help that was being sent anyway. It was his responsibility to see that that fact was known.
He went up to the canteen, put a dollar into the machine and got a cup of dreadful coffee. He sipped it on the way back to his office. Summoning as much discipline as he could muster, he got down to work. By the time Maxine, his secretary, arrived at nine o’clock, Jon had done a day’s work. The aroma of good coffee wafting in from her office told him that she had arrived.
He punched the intercom. “Good morning, Maxine. I want to dictate some letters as soon as you get straightened out.”
“Morning, Jon. Be right there.” She walked in, swaying seductively and bringing him the long-awaited coffee.
“Thanks. You make the best coffee, Maxine.”
“You must have been working for hours. Couldn’t you sleep last night? There’s a cure for that.”
“Maxine, you’re an excellent secretary, but you’ve been getting a bit too personal with me lately, and I don’t like it.” He knew she wanted him, and he was getting tired of her innuendos and less and less subtle pressure. “Now, let’s get to work.” He ignored her pouting and made a mental note to put her in another department, away from him. Any involvement with her would be ruinous to him, not that he was tempted. He wasn’t. Only Haley Feldon had interested him in any way in the past five years. He wouldn’t think about her, dammit. He had work to do.
Jon sat alone in his office at eight o’clock in the evening. He’d been there over sixteen hours. There was no crisis, no pressing problem that required an urgent solution. So why didn’t he leave? He didn’t leave because there was only one place that he wanted to be, and he was increasingly ambivalent about giving free rein to his growing feelings for Haley. Since his divorce, work had been his life. He had buried himself in it, had built EIS into a powerful concern. He, his father and their staff could get interviews with heads of state, with the most reclusive celebrity, where other news organizations tried and failed. He had worked hard to build a reputation for honesty, thoroughness and fairness in reporting. His movies and videos were entertaining without relying on violence or graphic sex. He had won several awards. His record, his achievements had been a source of comfort to him, and he had been content with his life.
He realized that he was depressed, a rare occurrence in recent years, and knew that he had to eliminate the source of his dissatisfaction. He left the office and headed home, walking briskly over to Sutton Place. Who was he kidding? His real problem was that he wanted Haley, needed her, but that he hadn’t been willing to take the chance. But hadn’t he asked for and received her promise to give their relationship a try? Hell, he wasn’t a coward. He’d have to risk it. But first he wanted to know what his chances were, what he was up against.
Jon’s call so soon after their first date surprised her. She told herself not to act as if his call was unusual.
“Hello, Jon. It’s nice to hear from you.”
“I take it you mean that, so I’m going to ask if we can spend the afternoon together. Can you ride a bicycle?”
“Why yes, but I’d like a rain check on that. Can we do something else? You know…walk along Riverside Drive or take a radio and soak up the sun in Central Park. I love being outdoors on a summer Sunday.”
“Okay. I’ll stop at Grace’s Market Place and get a picnic basket, and I should have a bottle of wine here. I’ll let you bring the music?”
“What time will you be here?”
“Shortly after twelve. Where do you want to meet?”
“You choose.”
He arrived at twelve thirty, minutes after she pressed a pair of white cotton cropped pants, jumped into them and pulled a red T-shirt over her head. “Have you been running?” he asked, having observed her short intakes of breath.
“No, but it took me an hour to find a pair of summer pants, and then I had to iron them.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me you don’t like casual dress?”
“No, I’m not. Everything in its place. I had already stored my summer casuals, thinking that I wouldn’t have time to wear them again this summer.”
“I’m glad you reconsidered. You look great.”
She took the portable CD player and a dozen CDs from the table in the foyer and put them in a shopping bag. He stared at her. “What’s the matter?” she asked him.
“I’m enchanted with you. You don’t look a bit like the woman I saw all those weeks from afar. You’re so much warmer, and you’re…approachable. Damn, I want to hug you.”
“Okay, but none of your heavy duty stuff.” She opened her arms, and he walked into them.
“I could definitely get used to this,” he said and released her. “Let’s go while I can still hold my head up.”
“It would be a pity if you got yourself into a situation where your head bobbled around on your neck. Of course, that would merely be a visitation upon you of the sins of your Viking ancestors.”
“They got here before Columbus.”
“I know. If you want an argument, pick another subject. You have every right to be proud of your heritage.”
“You and I have a common heritage. My mother was born in Philadelphia of African American parents, and her skin is just a tiny bit lighter than yours. She straightens her hair or it would be kinkier than mine. She’s very beautiful.”
“Do you look like her?”
He shook his head, and his eyes twinkled as if he mused over a private joke. “Not one bit. It’s accepted that I’m the spitting image of my dad. Svend, my brother, looks just like our mother, except that he’s white. He even has black hair. Sometimes we look at each other and laugh about it.”
He found a parking space on Eighty-Sixth Street half a block west of Central Park West, got the picnic basket and a cotton blanket from the trunk of his car, took her hand and followed dozens of other New Yorkers into the park.
“Next time, we should bring our bikes, ride over to the lake, rent a canoe and go boating,” he said. “I’ve wanted to do that, but it wouldn’t be any fun alone.”
She wished that she had agreed to his suggestion that they go bike riding, but she hadn’t ridden a bike in years. She told him as much. “If you’re willing to start with short trips, we can work up to a long ride.”
He spread the blanket beneath an oak tree that offered plenty of shade and stretched out. “Come on. Join me.” She hesitated, though she wasn’t sure why. He reached up with both arms. “Come on. I won’t ravish you. Out here with all these people and in bright daylight, you’re as safe as money in Fort Knox.”
“Thanks for nothing,” she said beneath her breath and sat beside him.
But he let her know that he heard her. “I only promise not to ravish you out here,” he said, eased an arm around her waist and let a grin alter the contours of his face.
“You have no idea how much that consoles me, Jon. Imagine me being worried about that!”
He pulled her down to his side. “Don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t hesitate to ravish you if we were alone. I don’t believe there’s a warm-blooded man under sixty who wouldn’t do his best to get you into his bed. I’m warm blooded, and I haven’t yet reached sixty.”
For a minute, it seemed to her that the breeze blowing over them had heated up, but he turned on his side to face her, and she knew the source of that warmth. His body heat enveloped her like hot quicksand, sucking her into its clutches. He stared into her eyes, and she tried to look away but couldn’t.
He stroked her bottom lip with the pad of his index finger. “I’ve rarely wanted anything as badly as I wanted that kiss,” he said. “Maybe if I feed us, we can get our thoughts off each other.”
“And you think all it takes is food? You can’t be serious.”
His shrugged and looked into the distance. “Right now, it’s the only option.”
