License to Love (11 page)

“The power’s back on!” she exclaimed. Part of her was relieved. It was extremely difficult to do without electricity in an all-electric apartment. But another part of her felt a twinge of regret. The power outage had given her the opportunity to spend time with Steve, to get to know him in a way she otherwise never would have. And that was over now.

“Three cheers for Med Ed.” But despite his endorsement of the electric company, Steve made no move to leave the bed.

Michelle switched on the bedside lamp before slipping out of the bed. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and was horrified at the sight of her rumpled sweat suit, her tousled hair and flushed face, totally devoid of makeup. It didn’t matter that she’d spent the entire day with Steve without an ounce of concern about her appearance. Now a self-conscious wave swept over her and she felt like turning off the lights before he could get a good look at her.

The return of civilization, it seemed, changed everything.

Steve sensed her withdrawal. He wondered if he could persuade her to let him spend another night here, in bed with her. This time with heat. And minus three layers of clothes. Tonight,
no
clothes would be required.

Michelle turned at that moment to see his unmistakably predatory smile. He reminded her of Burton stalking the new parakeet she’d brought home one day from the mall pet shop. Watching, assessing, planning. Waiting for the chance to make his move. She’d taken the little bird back to the store, knowing it was unsafe here. Now it appeared that she was in the same predicament.

“We should see if your car is still stuck in the lot,” she said with sudden brisk efficiency. She was pulling on her outdoor gear before Steve sat up in bed.

He finally did so with a resigned sigh. “You don’t have to go outside, Michelle. I’ll check on it.” Naturally he would discover his car still hopelessly stuck, he promised himself.

Michelle met his eyes. And correctly interpreted the gleam she saw there. “I’ll be glad to go with you,” she insisted firmly.

They trudged out together to find that the building superintendent had already arranged for the lot to be plowed and salted. With the reliability of a dogsled in the Arctic, Steve’s car glided smoothly out of its space. He was free. There was no excuse not to collect his things and go home.

Michelle walked him to the door. They lingered there for a few moments, he as reluctant to leave as she was to see him go..

"I could stay tonight,” Steve said, gazing intently at her. He made no effort to hide the desire and determination in his eyes.

“On the sofa, in the living room, with the cotton spread?” Michelle asked lightly. It couldn’t be any other way. If she let him make love to her, he would add her name to his scorecard and forget her. And as much as she’d enjoyed being with him, she was too much of a realist to believe that a romantic night in bed with her would alter his views on freedom and commitment. He’d said it himself— he wasn’t looking for love, he just wanted to have a good time.

Steve shook his head, still smiling that smooth unfathomable smile of his. * ‘Sorry, honey. I’m too old for pajama parties,” he said, a bit regretfully. “With me, it’s all the way or nothing.”

Michelle nodded. “I know.”

“Hey, we did have fun though, didn’t we?” He took both her hands in his. “You’re a good sport, Michelle.” She really was, he acknowledged thoughtfully. She hadn’t whined or complained or sulked about the discomfort and inconvenience. “If I’m ever in another power outage, I hope it’ll be with you.”

Her eyes suddenly, unexpectedly welled with tears. “Me, too,” she said huskily, lowering her head to avert her gaze.

Steve dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head, murmured goodbye, and was gone. It really couldn’t be any other way, he told himself as he drove home. He liked Michelle; she was a great girl, but she really wasn’t his type. She was too bright, sweet, funny, warm, loyal, sexy and interesting. ...

He shook his head. He was becoming depressed. It was definitely time to put another spin on the situation. So he started over. Michelle really wasn’t his type. She was too clever, driven, rigid, uptight, bossy, intractable. And she was too family centered, despite her dedication to her career. He didn’t doubt for a minute that she wanted far more than he was prepared to give—like a ring, a baby, a house in the suburbs.

Images of growing up in Merlton with his ever-loving smothering family tumbled through his head, along with the voices of his parents and sisters and grandmother.
Stevie, don’t go, you could get hurt. Stevie, don’t do that, it could be dangerous. Stevie, play with me, come with me, take me
with you. Stevie, that’s too expensive, save your money. Stevie, when are you going to settle down with a nice girl? Your life doesn’t really begin until you ’re married.

Those restless, suffocating feelings that had driven him out of Merlton resurfaced yet again. He wasn’t ready for the restrictive claustrophobia of family life, not yet! A night in Michelle Carey’s bed was
not
worth the marital life sentence it would cost him!

Five

February

‘The turn out tonight is fantastic,” Michelle remarked as she and the other Dineen staffers surveyed the well-dressed crowd packed into the Waterworks, the restored old building along the shore of the Susquehanna River. The Dineens had rented the place for tonight’s party.

“Confidentially, I thought it was a bit sappy when Valerie picked Valentine’s Day to announce Ed’s plans to run for re-election,” said Leigh Wilson. “And when she suggested kicking off the campaign with a Valentine’s Day party fund-raiser, I cringed. Sending out invitations pasted on ted cut-out hearts strikes me as excessively comball.”

“Well, everyone who was invited is here,” Michelle said with satisfaction.

“At five hundred dollars a plate, it’s a nice boost to Ed’s war chest,” added Claire Collins.

Leigh frowned. “I do wish Valerie had shown a little restraint with the decorations. There must be a billion candy hearts hanging on those mobiles dangling from the ceiling. Everybody has been commenting on them. It’s embarrassing.”

“Valerie is very creative,” Michelle said loyally. “And I’ve heard nothing but compliments on those candy heart mobiles.”

“Valerie Dineen could string dog biscuits and hang them from the ceiling and you’d approve, Michelle.” Leigh sighed exasperatedly. “You think everything she does is wonderful. If you’d be a little more objective you would see that she holds Ed back in many ways. She turns down almost all speaking invitations because she’s so bad at giving speeches, she still hasn’t lost all the weight she gained with the last baby and—”

“She’s Ed’s wife,” Michelle cut in sharply. “She’s kind and shy and he adores her. If you’ll excuse me, I see someone I want to say hello to.”

She didn’t, but she did want to get away from Leigh. Michelle crossed the room, disturbed by the other woman’s open, vitriolic critidsm of sweet Valerie Dineen. She was so preoccupied that she didn’t see the dark-suited figure step in front of her until she almost crashed headlong into him.

“Whoa! Where’s the fire?” Steve Saraceni asked jocularly.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I’m afraid I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Michelle was proud of the smooth steadiness of her voice and the impersonal pleasantry of her smile. Steve Saraceni would never know that her heart had leapt into her throat at the sight of him and her stomach was still doing flips.

She was annoyed by her acute reaction to him. It had been three weeks since the blizzard had forced them to hole up in her apartment and she hadn’t heard a word from him since. Not that she’d expected to, Michelle continually reminded herself. Yet for days after the storm she’d waited in a state of heightened anticipation for him to call. When he did not, an aching disappointment nagged at her. That, too, had worn off as she’d accepted what she should have realized from the very beginning. The wintry weekend of conversation and closeness meant nothing to Steve. He’d undoubtedly forgotten it—and her—as soon as he’d left her apartment.

She moved to pass him, but he stepped to the side, blocking her way. “You look great tonight, Michelle,” he said, his dark eyes sparkling with admiration. “Red is definitely your color.”

“Valerie Dineen asked all the staff to wear some shade of red in keeping with the Valentine’s Day theme of the party,” Michelle said coolly. She’d had to buy her strawberry-red knit sweater and matching pleated skirt because she had never owned anything red. She’d always considered the color too bright for her tastes.

“I was pleased to receive an invitation to the party tonight,” said Steve, sounding credibly sincere. “I like Ed Dineen and Legislative Engineers was delighted to contribute to his campaign.”

As a member of the senator’s staff, Michelle said what she would say to any contributor. “I’m sure Senator Dineen appreciates your support.”

Steve smiled. “Ed’s a great guy. I met him a couple of weeks ago and we’ve had lunch together.”

“Yes, I know. Ed was terribly pleased when you recognized him as a Penn State basketball star,” Michelle said dryly. She was certain that the “accidental” meeting on the Capitol stairs between Steve and Ed Dineen had been premeditated and carefully arranged on Steve’s part.

But she’d been disturbed to learn that Steve had made use of the information about Ed’s college basketball career, facts she had provided during their weekend together. Being Steve, he’d used them well, to gain access to the senator. Now, having been subjected to the full force of the Saraceni charm, Ed Dineen was quite favorably disposed to the lobbyist.

Perhaps she was being too sensitive but Michelle felt somewhat used. She was undecided as to whether Steve Saraceni’s operating methods were sneaky and underhanded or deft and skillful. She couldn’t trust her own judgment where he was concerned and
that
concerned her.

Michelle glanced purposefully at her watch. “I’ve got to run. It was so nice seeing you again.” Her tone and expression were blatantly insincere. She swiftly fled to the cloakroom.

“Leaving so soon?”

Michelle didn’t bother to turn around. She knew it was Steve who was suddenly a few steps behind her. And then by her side.

“There’s no need for me to stay any longer,” she said crisply. “I’ve put in an appearance here. Ed is busy working the room and my presence isn’t required.”

“Do you have a date lined up after this?” Steve pressed.

“Of course not,” she said incredulously. “It’s a Wednesday night.” Weekend dates were enough of a rarity for her; weeknight dates were inconceivable.

“It’s not such a preposterous question. It is Valentine’s Day,” Steve reminded her.

“Yes, it is. And naturally, this is a big holiday for you, isn’t it? I’m sure you singlehandedly boost sales of cards, flowers and candy on this day. After all, you have valentines in four cities.”

Steve smiled, his credo being: when in doubt, smile. He also ignored her jibe and laid his hand on her shoulder. “Well, since neither of us have dates tonight, why don’t we go somewhere and have a drink together?”

Michelle didn’t miss a beat. “No, thank you.” She hurried away from him, shoving her coat claim check into the hands of the checker.

Steve followed her, his smile still in place. “Why not?” His voice lowered and turned coaxing. “I thought we were pals, Michelle.”

Michelle received her coat and quickly slipped it on, resisting his attempt to help her. “You’re mistaken,” she said sweetly as she headed to the door. “We’re not pals. Good night, Steve.”

Steve stared after her. He realized that his jaw was agape and quickly closed his mouth. It was extraordinarily difficult to put his smile back in place. Michelle had given him the brush-off as he’d never received it before.

Back at her apartment, Michelle had just settled down on the couch with Burton purring on her lap when her doorbell sounded. A glance through the peephole revealed a most unexpected sight—Steve Saraceni, holding a big red heart-shaped box that just had to contain chocolates.

Michelle opened the door, laughing. “You’ve got to be kidding!”

Steve cleared his throat. Laughter, he hadn’t expected. “I wanted to give this to you,” he said, an uncharacteristic note of uncertainty in his voice. He put the box of candy into her arms.

Michelle looked from it to him. “Do you buy these things wholesale, by the gross? And keep them handily stashed in your car for whenever you run across a prospective valentine?”

Steve grimaced. “I did buy a number of them but not for the reasons you think. I pass out candy to the secretaries and receptionists in the various House and Senate offices every year—it’s the only Valentine some of them receive. And you can’t accuse me of romancing every secretary in the Capitol. Think how many are married, how many are older. It’s business, that’s all.”

“I see. You give candy to the secretaries and they make it easier for you to get in to see their bosses. Whatever it takes to do the job, hmm?”

“Access is the name of the game,” Steve affirmed.

“And you can even write off the cost of all the candy because it’s business. Just one question though. How come you gave a heart to me? Does this mean I’m included in your Valentine’s Day tax break?”

“That’s two questions,” Steve corrected silkily. His smile didn’t reach his eyes, which were pensive and wary.
What was he doing here?
He had no answer; he’d followed her home impulsively, not allowing himself to think at all, only to act. But he had to admit that giving her the candy had been an inordinately stupid move. Michelle was too bright to be taken in by such a blatant last-minute gesture.

Michelle shrugged. “Well, thanks for the candy.” She refused to tell him that it happened to be the only Valentine she’d received. She did not want to be on his access-via-pity list every year. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.” She started to close the door____

Steve wedged his shoulder inside, blocking it open. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“Sorry. It’s not snowing and the electricity is on tonight.”