A Lasting Love (10 page)

Read A Lasting Love Online

Authors: Mary Tate Engels

Tags: #arizona romance, #desert southwest, #romance, #southwest romance

"It all happened so fast. I was having some physical
problems, which is why I stopped taking the pill. By the time I
realized that I was actually pregnant, my condition had worsened. I
thought my physical problems were emotional, caused by our
separation. There was nothing to be done to prevent the
miscarriage. The doctor assured me it was for the best. At the time
I doubted it. But now, realistically, I know he's right."

Reid looked at her silently, his eyes deep and
sorrowful. Or was that just what Loren wanted to see in his
reactions—sympathy, remorse, agony? They were all there. But they
failed to give her the satisfaction she always thought they would.
She had wanted to punish him as she had been punished. And here,
Reid seemed quite shaken by the revelation. He appeared truly
disconcerted by the idea that they could have produced a
child,
if only
—but life doesn't depend on
‘if only.’

Loren continued to explain, her tone dull. "I was so
hurt that you would go directly from my arms to hers, that I
couldn't think straight. The pregnancy was just another reason to
hate you."

"Hate me?" Reid raised his dark eyebrows. "I
don't . . .
can't
believe that,
Loren."

She smiled ruefully. "I wanted to. It would have been
easier if I could have despised you. But you know, I couldn't do
that." Her voice trailed to a whisper.

His finger lifted her chin. "I didn't spend last
night with a woman who hated me. Or this morning." His crooked
smile was half teasing, half serious.

Her modest grin matched his, allowing the crisp air
between them to soften. "I guess I'm just a sucker for old love
stories."

His kiss was gentle as he teased her lips. "Our love
story is just beginning, baby."

She shook her head and moved away from him. "There
are too many complications to our lives now, Reid. You have your
father to care for and a very different lifestyle out West. I have
my career here in Washington. Then, there is—"

"Mark?"

She sighed. "Yes, Mark."

"What is your relationship with him?"

She turned away. "We're supposed to get married
sometime."

There was an uncomfortable pause, then Reid asked the
obvious question. "Do you love him?"

Loren laughed dryly. "What difference does that make?
Mark and I have many of the same interests. We get along nicely.
And he's here in Washington. He understands me and my needs. I
understand his."

Reid looked at her with hard, cold eyes. "What
difference? It makes a hell of a difference, Loren! How can you
think of marrying him if you don't love him?"

"I loved you once, and it didn't lead to marriage. I
don't think love is necessarily a requirement!"

"How can you consider marrying one man when your love
is for another?" His words cut into her.

Defiantly Loren shot back, "But it isn't! I don't
love another!"

Reid stepped close, leaning toward her until she
backed against the kitchen cabinet. When there was no place else to
go, he bent down and caressed her lips with his own. His hands
braced on the cabinet above her head. When the brief, orderly kiss
was over, his lips curled into a formidable grin. "Oh, Loren, you
can't respond to my kiss like that and convince me you love another
man."

Instantly his vicious methods registered and Loren
furiously raised a hand to slap him. He caught her hand in mid-air,
then, grasping the other one, pinned them both to her back, kissing
her soundly again. With her arms so caught he pressed his own chest
tauntingly against her arched, full breasts. Her body refused to
fight his advances and continued to respond, despite her wishes. A
tightness grew within her as his torment elicited the desired
reactions from her. He could tell she still responded to him!

When he finally released her, Loren moaned angrily.
"Damn you, Reid Mecina. You're a devil to manipulate me like
that."

"Guilty," he murmured against her cheek. "I just
wanted you to see how explosively we react together, Loren. The
combustible chemistry is still there, so don't deny it."

"Then I am the biggest fool of all. Please leave. I
need to be alone to think and to sort this out."

He released her hands, but stood close. "Okay. I
guess you do need some time. So do I. I'm staying at the Fairfax.
I'll gather my things and be back later."

"No. You're not staying here. Not this time, Reid."
Her voice had a firmness that was unfamiliar to him.

"You don't want me here?" It was a little-boy tone,
and she wanted to concur. But she wouldn't give in. Wouldn't let
herself.

"No. I definitely do not You . . . you just
can't."

"Why? Does Mark stay here? On weekends? Did I take
his spot last night?" There was a bitter hardness in his tone.

Loren propped her hands on her hips defiantly. "No,
he doesn't stay here. But, I . . . well, I just won't have you
living here. You can't step back into my life this easily. I need
time. And space. We both do."

Reid moved away, reaching for his jacket, which was
still hanging casually on the chair. "Maybe you're right, Loren.
But I'll guarantee that you haven't seen the last of me."

She placed her hand on his muscular arm. "Reid, we
both have a lot to consider. To think about."

He nodded curtly. "Yes, I suppose we do. Right now
I'm only thinking about us. Loren, I want to see you. Soon. What
are you doing tonight?"

"Mark and I usually go out on Saturday nights."

Reid winced, knowing the reality of the
situation. He was now seeing another man's woman.
Loren was another man's woman. Damn!
He
sizzled inside with the thought. "Can you cancel? Tell him
you're still sick?"

Loren sighed, thinking miserably about yet another
lie. "I ... I suppose so."

His order was abrupt and cold. "Then do it. I want to
see you tonight."

Suddenly Loren's conscience surfaced. "Reid, I don't
think I can. I just can't continue to lie to Mark then spend the
evening with another man."

The awful truth settled in on Reid and gnawed
at his gut.
He was the other man in Loren's life. The
intruder. The villain. Oh, God, he hated the role. He wanted her .
. . all to himself again.
He ground his teeth together
before answering. "Then don't lie to Mark. Tell him about
us."

"Reid." Loren's eyes implored, searching his ebony
eyes for understanding. "You know I can't do that."

His hand cupped her chin. "Loren, I must see you. I
just want to talk to you ... get to know you again. Is that too
much to ask?"

She shook her head silently.
No,
that isn't too much to ask. I want it too.

He smiled tightly. "Fine. I'll bring dinner. About
eight. How does Chinese food sound?"

Loren sighed miserably. How could she possibly
refuse Reid? She had never been able to.
Except
once.
Loren's head nodded, barely
perceptibly.

"Loren." His voice was a husky whisper. "I don't want
to intrude on your life. Just tell me to go to hell if you don't
want to see me again."

Tears filled her eyes at his words. How many times
had she wanted to do just that? But she shook her head. "I want you
to see you again, Reid."

"I won't impose anything on you that you don't want.
Do you understand? No demands, Loren. We'll talk and ... I won't
spend the night again if you don't want me to." His hand caressed
her cheek.

Loren colored softly as she remembered their previous
night. She had been so willing. "I know, Reid. It's always
been—"

His large warm hand slid around her neck, nestling in
her thick hair. "I like to think it's always been mutual between
us, Loren. From the first—"

"It has, oh, Reid, Reid ..." Loren agreed
huskily before his lips crushed hers. As his mustache brushed her
lips, his stubble of a beard scraped her tender face. But Loren
didn't care. One touch, one kiss, and both she and Reid knew she
would be his for the night. And he would be hers,
forever.

"I'll see you tonight," he promised when he finally
lifted his head.

"Reid." She grasped his arm. "Mark and I are going to
that dinner tomorrow night. Together. But I'll call and set it up
so that will be on the list to attend. Several members of the
Interior will be there. The contacts may be beneficial to your
lobbying cause.

"Thank you, Loren. Are you sure we can't arrange
something for you and me?"

She pressed her lips together and shook her head
firmly. "Mark and I are going together, and I can't cancel
that."

"Can't lie again?" His eyes scanned her smooth hair,
then settled on her blue eyes. There was a hint of amusement in
his. "Just don't bring him home with you."

Her alarmed eyes met his dark, brooding ones.
He winked and was gone. As Reid strode out to his car, a million
thoughts swarmed in her head. Predominant was the notion that he
was perhaps a dream, a figment of her imagination.
And
that her dreams had finally come true.

Loren turned around to face the wrath of a cat who
had been ignored far too long. “Come here, Angel baby,” she cooed
and stooped down to pet her. But Angel turned and walked away, her
tail high and the tip flicking.

 

With surprisingly little effort Loren convinced Mark
that she was too ill to spend the evening with him. It left her
with an uneasy feeling. Perhaps she was getting too good at lying.
She was filled with guilt; that is, until she saw Reid again. Then
she forgot everyone. She didn't care how she managed to see him,
just so she did.

When Reid arrived on her doorstep with two huge bags
of groceries, she laughingly stepped aside. "What's all this? Are
you staying a week?"

He smiled wickedly. "Might."

"Oh, no, you're not." She followed him into the
kitchen. Reid's jeans hugged his slim hips and muscular thighs. His
casual cream-colored linen shirt was devastatingly open at the
neck. He placed the grocery
bags on the kitchen
cabinet, then turned to drink in Lo
ren's
appearance.

Loren wore sporty white linen slacks and a navy
pull
over. One look at her happy smile, and they both
knew she
hadn't stewed for long over her lies to Mark.
Their eyes met magnetically, agreeing silently. In another moment
Reid had cleared the space between them, gathering her
into his strong arms, kissing her soft brown hair. She
pressed her head against his chest, inhaling his
masculine,
leathery fragrance, stirred by the
throbbing of his heart
against hers.

"We're just beginning, baby. I promise," he
murmured
earnestly against her ear. And she believed
it, because she
wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to
believe his prom
ises.

They spent the evening cooking and laughing
together,
just like old times. They shared the meal
and a bottle of
wine. They talked about wonderful
memories and what
the six-year separation had wrought
in their lives. But
they didn't mention the future. It
was too nebulous, scary. It was something neither wanted to face
right now. The
present was marvelous together.
Together, at last.

At the end of the evening, Loren didn't have
the will,
the desire, to ask Reid to leave. And so he
didn't.

Another night to close the door on Angel. She did not
like this man and how much time her was taking of her person.

 

The following night, Reid paced the shiny
Italian-tiled floor and searched through the guests for a certain
someone. A full-bos
omed black-and-white-attired server
stopped before him
with her tray, offering another
tall gin and tonic. Without
hesitation he replaced his
empty glass and took the full
one. He was obviously
preoccupied and ignored the shape
ly young woman. With
a petulant pout, she sought
admiration
elsewhere.

Reid tore his brooding eyes away from the door
and
gazed over the crowd. They were gathered in small
groups, drinks in hand, politely discussing politics. What else?
They were a staid-looking bunch, each and every one thinking his or
her job was absolutely crucial to the total system. Everyone in
government believed that. Everyone in the whole damn city of
Washington, D.C., was vitally important. Or so they
thought.

Considerately arriving on time, Reid had
introduced himself to Packston George, the host of this intimate
little affair.
Pac
was independently wealthy, owning homes in
L.A. and Miami. If they were comparable to this marble and tile
edifice in Washington's fashionable suburb, they would more
suitably be called mansions. He was the newly appointed Deputy
Chief of the Interior and God knows what he knew about the
Interior's problems. Ah, such was politics. Obviously
Pac
neither knew
nor cared about Arizona's water problems. Reid had his work cut out
for him and it would be an uphill battle.

His dark eyes again cased the columned
entranceway.
Where is she?
Loren was
coming tonight with Mark. She had made that perfectly clear, and
Reid had reluctantly agreed. What else could he do? Now they were
half an hour late for cocktails. Where in hell were they? What were
they doing? Inwardly he groaned at the thoughts that tormented his
imagination.

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