Within Reach (21 page)

She had had enough. “Uh, Dad, I have to run. Blake will be home any minute and I’m not dressed. Give my love to Mom, will you?”

“But she wants to speak with you.”

“Another time. Really. I have to go. I’ll talk with you soon. Bye-bye.”

Blake wasn’t due home for another two hours, and though Danica had been fully dressed when her father had called, when Blake finally breezed in an hour after expected, she was in her robe and ready for bed. The only reason she had waited up was to tell him that she was driving to Maine the next morning and that if she wasn’t back by eight he should have dinner without her.

Michael was ecstatic to open his door and find her there. He held her for a long time, enjoying the softness of her body, the sweet, fresh scent of her skin. “Ahhh, I’ve missed you,” he growled against her hair.

“I’ve missed you, too.” Neither had called the other on the phone. In unspoken agreement they had known that it would be difficult. Michael would have felt awkward if he had called and Blake had answered. Danica would have felt awkward if Blake found a slew of calls to Maine on his monthly bill. More critically, each sensed that it would be too difficult to hear the other’s voice and then have to say goodbye.

Fitting a firm arm to her shoulders, Michael led her into the house. She freed herself only to kneel and greet a fast-growing and exuberant Rusty, but she quickly returned to Michael’s side, unwilling to stay away for long. They had one day. She needed all the sustenance she could get.

She also needed encouragement, and she got it. Michael burst into a smile the instant she told him about her decision to work with James Bryant.

“Danica Lindsay, that’s fantastic news! Tell me everything.”

She did just that, detailing her initial introduction to James and the germination of her idea, the reading she had done on his life, the calculations she had made concerning the possibility of the project and the subsequent meeting at which she had put it all forward to James. She told of Blake’s reaction and of her father’s. And she told of her excitement, and her fear.

“Maybe I’m crazy, Michael. I don’t know the first thing about putting together a book. I’ve been operating on sheer guts up to now, but it’s time to put words into action. Where do I go from here? What do I do? Whom do I see?”

“First you sit back, take a deep breath and relax.” He spoke slowly, reassuringly. “Then you tell yourself that everything you’ve said to Bryant, and to Blake and your father, for that matter, was correct. Because it is, Dani. You have the time and the desire. Regardless of how widespread the audience for a book like this will be, there is a market for it. And that’s where you start. What you told Bryant was right on the button. The two of you have to talk; then you have to write up a proposal to send to various houses.”

He elaborated on the contents of such a proposal, making suggestions and giving hints that had worked for him. She asked him questions galore, jotting notes for herself as he made their lunch. Later he mentioned the names of several publishers whom he thought might be interested, and she noted those, too, but when he offered to make calls on her behalf, she gently refused. Likewise, she was resistant to his suggestion that he call his agent.

“I’d like to try it myself first. It’s not that I’m not grateful—”

His hand on her lips cut her off. “Say no more. I know you need to be independent. It’s hard for me. If I had my way I’d probably be smothering you just the way you’ve been smothered in the past.”

“You’d never do that.”

“It’s a temptation at times. I want to help you, to make things easier for you. I’ll have to keep reminding myself that you need to do this yourself.”

She took his hand and held it tight. “Thank you for understanding. Nobody else does. It helps just knowing that you’re here.” She felt suddenly guilty. Their time together was passing, focusing entirely on her. “How’s your book coming, Michael?”

“Nearly done. Another few weeks should do it.”

“That’s great! Are you pleased with it?”

“Very. So’s my editor, from what he said after reading the first half. I don’t think I’ll have any major problems.”

“You look tired.” She brushed the hair from his forehead. It was a joy to touch him, to care for him. “Late nights?”

“Yeah. When things roll, they roll. And since I don’t have anything else to do with my time…” The last was said on a note of gentle accusation which Danica felt to her core.

She looked down. “I wish I could be here more. It’s lonesome in Boston.”

“With all those people around?”

“It’s lonesome.”

He touched his finger to her chin and tipped it up. “I know. I bury myself in work so that I won’t have to think about how quiet it is here.”

“You’re not raising Rusty right. He’s supposed to be your best friend.”

“
You’re
my best friend.”

She wanted to scold him for tormenting her, but she realized that she had been the one to start it all by materializing on his doorstep that morning. Instead, she leaned forward against him, sliding her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek to his chest.

“Just hold me, just for a minute,” she whispered.

He swallowed hard. “You’re playing with fire.”

“I know. But I need…just hold me, Michael.”

He didn’t argue further, because he needed so badly to do what she asked. His arms closed around her, strong and protecting. “Dear God, I love you,” he whispered, unable to stem the words he’d been aching to say all day. She wouldn’t return them, he knew, but the way she was holding him in return was enough.

Minutes passed and neither of them moved away. Danica rubbed her cheek over the wool of his turtle-neck, imagining she felt the soft sprinkle of his chest hair, wanting desperately to touch it. Michael concentrated on the sleekness of her back beneath his hands, the press of her breasts against him, her soft curves waiting to be explored.

When his body grew tight, he tried to think of baseball or basketball or hockey, but it didn’t work. “I need you, Dani,” he warned hoarsely, “and it’s only getting worse. I thought once you’d gone back to Boston, I’d be able to regain control of myself, but I lie awake at night thinking about you and I get hard and sore and…” He drew her head back so he could see her face. She looked as stricken as he felt.

“Let me make love to you, sweetheart. Let me—”

“We can’t.”

“Why not? The feeling’s there. It’s inevitable.”

“But I’m married. I can’t be unfaithful—”

“You’re already being unfaithful,” he argued, then half wished he hadn’t when her eyes filled with tears. But it needed to be said, he realized. “Dani, you
already
feel things for me that you shouldn’t feel.” Taking her face in his hands, he brushed his thumbs back and forth along her cheekbones. “You don’t have to say the words, but I know that you love me. If we were to make love, it’d only be an expression of what we both already feel.”

“I can’t,” she pleaded, “I can’t.”

“I’m not quite sure what it is you have with Blake, but it can’t come close to what we feel for each other.”

“I’m bound to him.”

“You’re not in love with him, not the way you’re in love with me. Do you have any idea how beautiful it would be for us?” He ignored the tiny sound of desperation that came from her throat. “I want to touch you, to kiss you all over. I want to see you, all of you. I want you to be naked, naked and warm and wet. You would be, Dani. I can feel you trembling right now.”

“You’re scaring me, Michael!”

“I’m only putting into words what you’ve thought about yourself. Am I wrong?” When she didn’t answer, he pressed. “Am I?”

“No! But I can’t make love to you. I’m not free!”

“With me you’re free.” His low voice quivered. “You’d touch me, Dani. You’d undress me and kiss me and move over me—”

Jerking from his hold, she bolted up from the sofa. Her body was hot and cold and tingling and taut and felt utterly foreign to her. “Stop it, Michael. Please? I can’t do what you want. I just can’t.”

Her crushed expression gave him the control over his body that neither baseball nor basketball nor hockey had been able to do. Closing his eyes for a minute, he took several deep breaths, then slowly pushed himself to his feet. “Okay, sweetheart. I’ll stop. But I want you to think about something for me. I want you to think about something for me. I want you to think about what
you
want. You know what I want. You know what Blake wants. You know what your father wants.” When she swayed, he drew her against him and she didn’t resist. “I want you to think about what you could have.” He pressed her hips lightly to his, just enough to alert her to his still aroused state. “I won’t force anything. I couldn’t do that. When you come to me, I want it to be because
you
want it. I want you to need me to be inside you as much as I need to be there.”

She moaned softly and began to shake. “Don’t say things like that,” she whispered. “I can’t take it.”

“But you’re not moving away.” If anything, she had arched her hips closer.

“It feels so good…”

He was the one to put inches between them. “Then, remember it. Remember how good it feels now, when you’re back in Boston.” His eyes fell to her breasts, then lower. “Think about how much better it’ll feel without clothes and inhibitions and regrets. Think about it, Dani, because I’ll be doing the same. Somehow we’re going to have to come to terms with all this.” He gave a tired sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. “Somehow. Someday.”

There was a thick silence, then Danica’s broken “And in the meantime?”

He took a breath. “In the meantime, I guess we’ll have to go along as we have.”

“Would you rather I didn’t come?”

“That’d be the smartest thing. But it’s not possible. We both know that. You don’t come up much now, anyway.”

She lowered her chin. “No. Blake can’t, and now that I have this project…What will you be doing once your book’s done?”

“I thought I’d take a few weeks off. Maybe go to Vail and do some skiing.”

She met his gaze. “That’d be fun.”

“Do you ski?”

“No. My parents wouldn’t let me. It was a risk when I was playing tennis, and Blake never wanted to… Damn, I’d better be going. This isn’t getting any easier.”

There was another silence, then, “Will you let me know what’s happening?”

She brushed at her tears. “I will.”

“And you’ll call me if there’s anything I can do to help you with your work?”

“Uh-huh.”

He cupped her chin in his hand and spoke more quietly. “Will you think about what I’ve said?”

He was looking at her with such love that it took Danica a minute to catch her breath. “I don’t have much choice, do I?”

He smiled. “No.”

“Then I guess I’ll be thinking about what you’ve said.” She forced a smile. “Wanna know what my tea bag said this morning?”

“What did your tea bag say this morning?”

“It said, ‘Often it takes as much courage to resist as it does to go ahead.’”

“Smart tea bag. Who writes those things, anyway?”

“Smart men.”

“If they were really smart, they would have written something like ‘True love awaits you by the sea in Maine.’”

“That’d be a fortune cookie.”

“Cookie…tea…same difference.” Before she could respond, he swept her up for a quick hug, then all but shoved her out the door. “Better leave now or I’m apt to throw you over my shoulder, shackle you to my bed and make love to you until you beg for mercy.”

“Brute,” she teased, but she was running down the path toward her car. She still had the house to check, then the drive back to Boston. She knew she had better keep moving because to one increasingly large part of her the thought of being shackled to Michael’s bed was very, very sweet.

Two and a half weeks later, Michael threw caution to the winds and called her on the phone. He reasoned that as a friend he had every right to do so.

“Lindsay residence.”

“Mrs. Lindsay, please.”

“Who may I say is calling?”

He grasped the phone tighter. “Michael Buchanan.”

“One minute, please.”

In less than that, Danica picked up the library extension. “Michael?”

“Hi, Dani.”

“Michael,” she breathed, feeling the abundance of tension with which she had lived for the past few days begin to ease at last. “Oh, Michael.”

“How are you, Dani?”

“Better, now.”

“It’s been that bad?”

“Only in my mind. You know he won.”

“Yup.”

“Blake is ecstatic. So’s my dad. You’d think Jason Claveling’s election was the Second Coming.”

“After all their work, they have a right to be pleased.”

“Mmmm. Well, at least that’s over. Somehow, though, I keep waiting for the other shoe to fall.”

“Do you think Blake is expecting an appointment?”

“He joked about it a while back, but I’m beginning to wonder. God, Michael, can you imagine what would happen then? If Blake accepts a position in the Claveling administration, we’d have to move to Washington. That’s the
last
place I want to be.”

“I don’t know. There are many people who’d find it exciting.”

“Would you?”

“Not particularly, but then, I’m antisocial.”

“You are not antisocial. You’re anti-insanity. It’s mad down there. Power and politics. Politics and power.” She made a sound deep in her throat. “Sheer madness.”

“There’s no point in worrying about it now,” he pointed out soothingly. “The election was just yesterday. Claveling will be taking time off to rest before he begins to think about any appointments.”

“I suppose. Did you finish your book?”

“Yup. It’s off. I’m heading for the Rockies tomorrow. What’s doing with you and Bryant?”

“The proposal’s all done. I’m ready to mail it out. Maybe I’ll have heard something by the time you get back. When will that be?”

“Sometime before Christmas. Any chance you’ll be up at the house?”

“I’m not sure. We always spend the holiday with my parents. Afterward, though, I might…I could, but…maybe it’s not such a good idea.”