Storm Front (Reunited Hearts) (17 page)

Despite
herself, Allison leaned back and smiled. “Fine. Yes, I’ve fallen for him. I’m
kind of afraid I’m crazy about him, but what possible good will it do me?
Nothing can happen between us.”

“Why
not?” Lori asked. “How do you know he doesn’t feel the same way? How did you
leave it with him?”

Allison
cringed. “I…I just left.”

Lori
looked confused, but Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. “You left? You didn’t sneak out
before he woke up in the morning, did you?”

With
a gulp, Allison admitted, “Yeah.”

“Allison!”
Lori exclaimed in obvious dismay. “Why did you do that?”

“I
was scared and embarrassed, and I didn’t know what to say. And I was afraid if
I stayed any longer I wouldn’t be able to…I mean…Damn it, Lori, the world is
not a fairy tale, and there’s a little thing called self-preservation.”

“Obviously,
the attempt didn’t work,” Elizabeth said.

“No.
It didn’t. I’m a mess.” She blew out a breath. “I feel kind of bad that I left.
He’d been entirely decent to me that evening, and the sex was…it was really
good.” Her cheeks reddened again at Elizabeth’s gleeful look. “Seriously, what
was I supposed to say? 'Thanks for some more great orgasms—I’ve got a train to
catch’?”

“That
would have been better than saying nothing. You might have hurt his feelings.”

Allison
made a face at Lori’s reproachful comment. “I doubt it. I mean, not seriously.
It wasn’t like he was spouting out vows of eternal love and devotion. It was
sex. We barely said anything at all.”

“Then
why are you so hung up on him if it felt so empty?” Elizabeth asked.

“It
didn’t feel empty.” Allison closed her eyes and tried to explain. “It doesn’t
feel empty between us. It feels…”

“Like
love?” Lori asked breathlessly.

Allison
shrugged and stared down at her cappuccino. “I don’t know. It just feels …significant.”

“Then
why did you leave without working things out?” Lori asked. “If it felt
significant—”

“It
felt like that before,” Allison interrupted, her voice almost harsh as she
struggled with emotion. “Every time we've been together it’s felt significant,
and he’s always just moved on.”

The
table was silent, and she knew her friends were staring at her, worried about
her. She felt like a fool, and she wished she could be the smart, no-nonsense
professional she tried so hard to be.

So
often, she still felt like the eighteen-year-old who'd been hopelessly in love
with an unattainable man.

No
one spoke for a few minutes, each lost in their thoughts.

Then
Elizabeth said, “Uh, Allison. For once, I think I have to agree with Lori on
this.”

Allison
drew her brows together. “What are you talking about?”

Elizabeth
seemed to be looking over Allison’s shoulder rather than directly at her. “As
much as I hate to admit it, Lori’s romanticized musings about how he's probably
secretly in love with you might have some basis in fact.”

“Elizabeth,
what the hell do you mean?”

“There’s
a very sexy business tycoon outside the window with a brown dog. And he appears
to be staring at you. I could be wrong, but I believe Michael Martin has
decided to sweep you into his arms and carry you away after all.”

Allison
gasped, whirling around, and was shocked to see that Michael was indeed
standing outside of the coffee shop, looking in through the glass front.

His
expression was neutral, but his eyes were focused on her. Ingrate was at his
feet, his tongue hanging out as he watched the people pass them on the
sidewalk.

Allison
turned back to her friends, her throat clenching in reaction. “Oh God,” she
choked. “What do I do?”

Lori
giggled. “Go talk to him, silly. Tell him how you feel.”

“But—”

“Don’t
jump the gun,” Elizabeth put in. “But he’s seen that you’ve seen him. You might
as well go find out what he wants. He did come all the way from New York just
to talk to you.”

Allison’s
hands were shaking as she slowly stood up. She was wearing jeans and a vintage
velvet jacket over a fitted t-shirt. Not a bad outfit, but her hair was kind of
messy and she hadn’t put on any make-up today.

“Oh,
this is so exciting,” Lori gushed, beaming toward Michael.

“Don’t
do anything stupid,” Elizabeth muttered.

Her
mind a whirl and her stomach decidedly fluttery, Allison left the coffee shop
and walked out to the sidewalk where Michael was waiting.

He
was dressed casually, in jeans and a black t-shirt. He didn’t smile as she
approached, but his eyes searched her face with obvious interest.

Ingrate
panted and pulled toward her until she knelt down and stroked his soft fur.
“Hey, fella,” she murmured. “It’s good to see you again.” She looked up at Michael.
“Hi.”

“Hi.”
His mouth quirked up slightly, as if something struck him as humorous.

His
expression made Allison smile too. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

He
licked his lips, and she suddenly wondered if he was a little uncomfortable
with this meeting himself. “I was heading out to the Virginia coast. To check
out that lighthouse.”

Absurdly,
Allison felt a little disappointed that he hadn’t made the trip just to see
her. “Oh, good. I’m glad you’re taking that seriously.”

Michael
started walking, letting Ingrate lead the way. Allison fell in step with him.

After
they’d gone half a block, Michael slanted her a sideways look. “You left
without saying anything.”

“Yeah.
Sorry about that.”

“Why
did you?”

She
shrugged. “It was rude, and I’m sorry I didn't say anything before I left.”

Michael
nodded, his blue eyes scanning her face. After a minute, he said mildly, “You
didn’t answer my question.”

“Caught
that, did you? The truth is, Michael, I don’t know why I just left. I just—I
don’t know.”

He
nodded again, appearing to accept her vague rambles as the truth.

They
were.

“Why
are you here?” Allison asked, realizing suddenly how odd it was that he’d
showed up in D.C. outside her favorite coffee shop without warning on a
Saturday afternoon. “I mean,
here
.”

“I
dropped by your apartment and you weren’t in. One of your neighbors said you
liked the coffee shop so I walked over to check it out.”

“Oh.”

He
hadn’t really answered her question—not the deepest one. So she forced herself
to be brave and prompted, “But why did you want to see me?”

Michael
gave her a small smile. “I have a story you might be interested in.”

Allison
blinked. It was the last thing she'd expected. “What?”

“I
have a story, if you want it. Your article about the gala and demonstration was
really good. I thought you might want to follow up. I’m heading out to see the
lighthouse, as I mentioned earlier. You’re welcome to come.”

She
felt like she’d had the wind knocked out of her. “What? You’re inviting me to— You
hate reporters!”

“True.
They haven’t been kind or considerate to me in the past. But you and I have…history.
And this story isn’t about me. It’s about the lighthouse. Do you want it or
not?”

Allison
stared at him, baffled and overwhelmed. She had no idea what was happening here,
but she knew one thing for sure.

She
wasn’t about to say no.

“Yes,
I want it,” she said, frowning at him. “There’s no need to be rude.”

Michael
actually laughed, a low, throaty laugh that she found absolutely delicious.
“All right then. I’m heading out there tomorrow morning.”

“Sounds
good.”

She
felt off-balanced and like she wasn’t thinking straight, but excitement pulsed
through her, enlivening all of her nerve-endings. It was foolish to be so
excited. As far as she knew, all of this meant absolutely nothing personal.

But
it was certainly nothing she could have expected.

“I’m
sorry,” she said, before she’d thought through the wisdom of the words. “For
leaving like I did—the other night, I mean.”

Michael
met her eyes with a strangely intense questioning.

“It
was good,” she stammered on. “The sex, I mean. It was—I enjoyed it.” Her cheeks
blazed as she cut off her words.

“Good,”
Michael said quietly, looking ahead of him now as they walked. “Me too.”

*
* *

Michael should have
been prepared.

He’d
done research. He’d talked to local authorities, historians, and architects all
last week from New York. He’d seen pictures of the lighthouse both before and
after the storm. He knew what to expect, and he should have been prepared.

He
wasn’t.

The
sight of the battered lighthouse hurt him, like a physical pain. It was a
beautiful day, the warm sunshine tempered by the crisp breeze. But the perfect
weather seemed to be taunting, mocking the devastation of the lighthouse that
broke the landscape before him.

It
stood, stark against the water and blue sky. A beaten relic of two centuries of
wind, rain, and sand, pummeled by one storm too many.

“Oh
God!” Allison breathed from beside him. “It hurts.”

Her
hoarse voice and the words she spoke caused him to turn toward her. She’d
lifted a hand to her chest, as though it were aching. Her fair skin glowed in
the bright sun, and the breeze blew her burnished hair back from her face.

He
recognized the ache in her eyes, though, and he knew she felt the way he did
about the sight in front of them. “Yeah.”

They’d
flown in that morning from D.C., and their interaction had been strictly
business all day. Michael couldn’t help but wonder how Allison really felt
about being there with him. She was acting no-nonsense and professional. She
didn’t appear to be torn by the emotional confusion that Michael was suffering
from. But he wondered.

He
still wasn’t sure what he wanted out of this weekend, but he hadn’t been able
to stop thinking about Allison all week. Thoughts of her had tortured and
pestered him until he’d known he had to do something. So he’d invited her on
his trip to see the lighthouse with the offer of an inside story, hoping the
time he spent with her this weekend would provide some sort of enlightenment.

When
he’d woken up a week ago to find her empty side of the bed, it had felt like
the jarring thud at the end of a fall. He’d been hurt, then annoyed, then
pretended it didn’t matter. He couldn’t be genuinely angry with her for leaving
without a word. They’d never pretended it was serious between them, that it was
anything but sex.

But
holding her in his arms, being buried inside her, meeting her eyes as their
bodies moved together…it hadn’t been casual.

And
Michael was somehow sure she’d realized it too.

He
knew he hadn’t treated her well, so it was possible she was just running away,
but he wasn’t about to leave a massive loose end like this in his life. He
needed closure. He needed answers. And he was determined to get them this
weekend.

Michael
wasn’t naïve enough to believe there was no possibility of Allison’s still
trying to use or deceive him—or that, at least, her motives here were
self-seeking, merely to advance her career. She was a reporter. She'd always
been ambitious. And Michael had never seen anything in his life to convince him
that journalism was a noble profession.

Maybe
Allison was with him now to get the kind of inside story on Michael Martin no
other reporter ever had.

But,
if that were the case, he’d know after this weekend. At least, he’d have that
answer.

In
truth, he was starting to doubt it was so.

Mostly,
Michael wanted to figure out why he couldn’t seem to let go of Allison the way
he’d let go of every other woman in his life.

“You
have to save it.”

Michael
looked over at her again. She'd still been staring out at the lighthouse, but
now she turned her head to meet his gaze.

“Please,”
she added.

The
plea in her eyes spoke to him, and the connection he felt with her at the
moment was so deep and tangible it astounded him.

So
he gave her the only answer he was capable of shaping. “I will.”

Her
face changed. She smiled. It was so bright, so breathtaking, that her whole
being seemed to glow in the sun.

Moved
beyond restraint, Michael reached out and took her face in his hands. He sank
into a kiss, knowing only that he had to be closer to her, as close as he could
get.

The
embrace was immediately deep and urgent. Michael’s chest clenched and then
eased as Allison softened against him without hesitation, her mouth opening to
the advance of his tongue and her arms twining eagerly around his neck.