Saving the world one kiss at a time

Haley Feldon’s work with the United Nations means everything to her. She cares more about social progress than filling her social calendar. But that doesn’t stop media mogul Jon Ecklund from pursuing the elegant beauty.

Jon’s used to getting what—and who—he wants. And he’s not going to let anything get in his way of knowing Haley. But pain from her past—and a surprise from her future—threaten to destroy everything they’ve started to build. Now Jon’s on a mission to open Haley’s heart…if only she’ll let him.

She put her empty glass on the grass beside her, leaned over and stroked his hair.

“I’m counting on your good judgment.”

“Be careful, Haley. I’ve made mistakes, and because I’m still human, I may make some more.”

“Not to worry,” she said, still stroking, “I’ll keep you out of trouble.”

“Yeah. Just like you did the other night when we went to dinner.” She stretched out beside him, and he needed no further invitation. For the first time, she looked up into his face while lying supine, and frissons of heat plowed through her.

“Kiss me. Open your mouth and kiss me.”

She gently pulled his tongue into her mouth and gripped his shoulders, asking for more, wanting him and relief from the tension stirring in her. He kissed her back, then stopped, took her hand and locked her fingers through his. “I haven’t felt this content in years. I love being with you, Haley, and I want us to spend as much time as possible together. Can we?”

“I enjoy being with you, Jon, but let’s take it one day at a time.”

“If that’s all you can give me now, I have to accept it. But I want more. Much more.”

GWYNNE FORSTER

is a national bestselling author of forty-four works of fiction—thirty-four romance novels and nine mainstream novels, including her latest, When the Sun Goes Down. She has won numerous awards for fiction writing, including a Gold Pen Award and an RT Book Reviews Lifetime Achievement Award, and has been inducted into Affaire de Coeur magazine’s hall of fame. A demographer by profession, she is formerly a senior United Nations officer, where she was chief officer in charge of research in Fertility and Family Planning studies. Gwynne is author of twenty-seven publications in demography. She holds bachelor’s and master’s degrees in sociology and a master’s degree in economics/demography. As an officer, first for United Nations and later for the International Planned Parenthood Federation of London, England, Gwynne traveled and/or worked in sixty-three countries. She lives in New York with her husband, who is her true soul mate.

Reckless Seduction

Gywnne Forster

www.millsandboon.co.uk

My sincere thanks to my beloved husband and stepson for their unfailing support and encouragement.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 1

Haley Feldon stepped out into the late summer sun, grateful for the trees that shaded New York City’s East Sixty-Fourth Street. She both loved and hated New York City, but if her dreams were ever to have the slightest chance of materializing, it was where she had to be.

She’d had a difficult meeting with Tom Brennan, one of her backers, that morning. The conceited old coot never missed an opportunity to remind her of his wealth or to mention his generous contributions to the numerous foundations that depended upon him and others like him to finance their philanthropic work.

As she walked swiftly down Second Avenue, Haley sighed. She hated having to work with Brennan, but their meetings were unavoidable. As founder and president of the International Institute for Social Progress (IISP), she devoted herself to projects that improved the lives of poor women and children. Her immediate goals were to improve educational opportunities for children living on reservations and to establish a program to reduce pregnancies and school dropouts among teenage girls in New York City.

She was determined to make a difference. Unfortunately, her work brought her into contact with men like Brennan, because making a difference cost money. And funding for projects like the ones she envisioned for IISP was hard to come by.

Haley glanced at her watch and saw that she had about an hour before her appointment with Nedia Edstrom, head of the United Nations Conference on Social Change. That would give her time for coffee and a few minutes to focus on the proposal that she was presenting to Nedia. Inside the United Nations Secretariat Building, she took the escalator to the second floor and walked down the heavily carpeted corridor toward the North Delegates Lounge. Walking toward her was the tall, sandy-haired man she seemed to glimpse almost every time she came into the Secretariat Building. Elegant and well-built, he exuded an aura of power, strength and pure animal magnetism.

Her response to him always astonished her. How could she react this way to a man she had not even met? Haley was sure that he had his share of female admirers, but she was definitely not going to become one of them. She vowed she wouldn’t even though, or perhaps because, he showed up regularly in her dreams and often interfered with her daytime thoughts, too. No, she didn’t fool herself. She was acutely aware of him, even if she always tried to pretend that she wasn’t. It had gotten so bad that she looked for him every time she entered the building. And she knew that she flushed whenever she saw him. What was it about him? she wondered.

Not to mention she’d caught him looking at her on numerous occasions. She’d always looked away before their gazes could connect. In spite of her natural reserve, she almost hungered to know him. Yet, because she sensed that he represented a danger to her, she usually avoided him. But she wouldn’t be able to avoid him today—not this time. Today, he was walking directly to her.

Jon Stig Ecklund leaned back in the chair in his office in the United Nations Secretariat Building. The main office of Ecklund International Syndicate, Inc. (EIS), his family’s international satellite network, occupied three floors of a large building on Madison Avenue. Jon preferred to use this smaller office at the UN when he needed privacy or solitude for his work.

He didn’t enjoy being alone, but sometimes he needed absolute quiet to hear himself think. Yet even in the solitude of this smaller office Jon was finding it hard to concentrate today. He pushed back his chair, walked out of the office and headed to the North Delegates Lounge for a drink and a break. He took the escalator to the second floor and started for the lounge. It was then that he saw her.

He had seen her at a distance so many times that he felt as if knew her. Actually, he did know her, because she had spent many hours in his dreams. Her beauty intrigued him. Her regal bearing, long jet-black hair, olive complexion and soft brown eyes bespoke of mixed heritage. And with her tall, perfectly proportioned figure and lovely face she could have been a fashion model. Yet he knew instinctively that there was more to her than beauty. He’d once seen her in the dignified Delegates Dining Room daintily plucking raspberries from her plate and eating them one by one with her fingers. He guessed that she was at once respectable and sassy. She exuded calm coolness, yet Jon wondered if she hid fiery passion beneath her cold facade. He was drawn to her like a moth to fire.

Dammit, he wanted to know her. But she never gave him the opportunity. Every time he managed to get close enough to speak to her, she bolted like a skittish colt. He was fast losing patience with that game. She was an enigma that he was going to solve…and then forget.

Haley wanted to turn around and go the other way, but it was too late. He was looking directly at her, and her usual calm deserted her. He was handsome. No, he was beautiful. And he was tall, maybe six feet four or five inches. Not many men towered over her, but his height dwarfed her five-ten frame. So this is how dainty felt, Haley thought.

He seemed to pause in his approach. Was he going to speak? She realized she’d never heard his voice. Now she was dying to know if his voice matched his smooth masculine good looks.

Jon held her gaze until he was abreast of her. “Good morning.” He said it softly, as if not to frighten her, but she didn’t respond. She saw him open his mouth, and in an act of uncharacteristic cowardliness, she glanced away. The moment passed. She wasn’t sure whether she walked faster or slower, but when she passed through the lounge and reached the coffee shop, she had strength only to find a table and sit down. She hugged her stomach, calming herself. She knew something else about him now. He had blond hair and long eyelashes that half hid a pair of piercing, fern-green eyes—beautiful eyes. She wanted to kick herself for not speaking to him.

Resuming his normally brisk stride, Jon promised himself that no matter where he saw her again or who she was with, he was going to speak to her. The thought that he would finally settle something that was definitely getting out of hand lightened his mood.

He walked on, mulling over his encounter with the woman. Who the hell was she? What was it about her, a woman of whom he knew absolutely nothing, that made him feel so empty, so lacking in something that he could not label but that was so vital it gnawed at him? He released a long sigh. He wanted her out of his thoughts, out of his mind. He didn’t need this aggravation, this teenage craving for something he shouldn’t want and couldn’t get. Having given himself that stern lecture, he quickened his steps to the lounge. He’d have a vodka.

“Haley Feldon! Haven’t seen you in ages. How’s the institute going? I heard that you’d delivered a first-class lecture down on Capitol Hill. Do you think you stand a chance of introducing some new life into the secondary school programs for Native American children on reservations? Can I get you an espresso?”

Haley’s face creased into a big smile at the sight of her old friend. “Hello, Nels. It’s good to see you. How is Isabella? Are you two still an item? And yes, I’d love an espresso.” And thank you for distracting me, bringing me back to earth.

“Say, why were you sitting with your back to the entrance? Are you hiding from someone?”

Before she could answer, she heard Nels call out to someone. “Jon Ecklund, where have you been? Come over here and join us.” Haley felt the hair prickle on the back of her neck.

“Nels Andersen, son of a gun, you’re a sight for sore ey… Well! Hello, at last.”

Haley knew who it was even before she looked up.

“Hello.” Was that dry quivering voice hers? Did they notice how it trembled?

“Have you two met?” Nels asked, rather tentatively.

“We have now,” Jon offered. “Who are you?” He looked at her intently.

“I’m Haley Feldon,” she said, extending her hand. He took it and held it, still looking at her. She felt the blood warm the skin of her face and experienced something that she had never felt before, a flash of warmth from head to foot, the heat settling in the pit of her loins. She hated that she had reacted to him that way. Withdrawing her hand, she took refuge in the lukewarm espresso. It was a mistake. Her hand shook as she raised the cup to her lips, and both men saw it.

“I’ve got exactly nine minutes to make an appointment on the twenty-second floor. It was a pleasant surprise seeing you, Nels. I wish I had more time. Perhaps we can get together for lunch one of these days. Goodbye, Mr. Ecklund.”

“Aren’t you implying that you aren’t pleased to have met me?” Jon asked, sardonically. He had the pleasure of seeing her speechless. But she quickly regained her composure, smiled rather lamely and hurriedly walked away.

“What on earth is going on between you two?” Nels wanted to know.

“Nothing! Absolutely nothing!”

“Is there anything I can do to help this ‘nothing’ along?” Nels asked. “You know I’m always willing to do anything I can for a college buddy.”

“No! If there’s anything I don’t need, Nels, it’s the kind of chaos you can create when you start your pranks. I’m not in the market for a woman. And if I was, I’d look for one a bit warmer than that porcelain Venus.”

Few people knew that second side of Nels’s personality, and most anyone would have had difficulty reconciling the boyish prankster with the suave, efficient journalist, the tough adversary that aptly characterized Nels Andersen.

Nels lifted his right shoulder in a careless shrug. “Well, at least you admit that she’s a goddess. Haley is a wonderful human being, but I thought I caught some sparks between you two.”

“Look, Nels, drop it! Just drop it, will you? A lot of things have happened since we last saw each other. My divorce is final. Karen has remarried, and I’m not looking for anybody.” No, he wasn’t looking, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t want Haley Feldon. At least he wanted to get to know her, find out whether… What the hell did he want?

Nels watched Jon carefully. There was something different there. He was guarded, where he had always been so open, direct and straightforward. He wondered about Jon’s divorce. Well, he thought, Jon had always been somewhat reticent with women, though they sure as hell liked him. Maybe someday they’d be able to talk about it. Nels considered it for a moment. He had never given any thought to pranks with Jon where women were concerned. Somewhat bemused at his thoughts, he realized that he never would. For all his apparent toughness, Jon was too vulnerable.

“Look, man, I’m inviting some of the old gang over in a couple of weeks, after I get back from my assignment in Eastern Europe. As soon as I finalize my plans, you know…guest list and all that, I’ll call you. Will you come?”

“Sure,” Jon said, frowning slightly as he gave Nels his home phone number.

Nels rose and patted Jon on the shoulder. “Let’s stay in touch, buddy,” he said softly, giving Jon his number.

“By the way, Nels, why is it that you aren’t interested in Ms. Feldon?”

Nels laughed. “It’s Dr. Feldon. I knew her when she didn’t have all of that polish,” he said, cryptically.

“What ever do you mean?”

“Well, I covered Peace Corps activities in Africa and used to see her in Kenya. She was just an idealistic kid back then. She’s still idealistic.”

“Well, she’s certainly no kid now,” Jon drawled. “See you.”

Haley fastened her seat belt and prepared for the sixteen-hour flight to Nairobi. She was pleased with the contract that she had negotiated for IISP with Nedia and had spent the past ten days developing the material for the seminars and workshops that were intended to aid the improvement of women’s health in several East African countries. This was what she had dreamed of for her institute.

Owing to the negligence of one of her senior staff members, she’d been up until two in the morning completing preparations for her trip. She’d had enough of him and intended to fire him as soon as she found a replacement. Feeling immensely relieved for having come to that decision, she signaled the stewardess and asked for a cocktail, got out a novel by her favorite writer and settled down. It would be good to see Nairobi again after five years.

At about page twenty in the book, she realized that she’d only been looking at the words while seeing the face of Jon Ecklund. Sure, he’d made an impression on her. Every time she saw him, she’d become conscious of herself as a woman. Something about him drew her like a magnet draws a nail, and she didn’t find that soothing. She didn’t intend to give another man the power to make her need him and then to humiliate her. After four years, she was still tormented by that experience. No matter how elegant her appearance, how many admiring looks she received and how successful she was professionally, she had only to remember Joshua Hines and his bigoted parents to have her self-confidence shaken and her ego shattered.

Not even the fact that Jon Ecklund seemed attracted to her helped. After all, Josh had claimed to be crazy about her. But his parents—both of whom claimed to have ancestors who came to Plymouth, Massachusetts, on the Mayflower—didn’t want him with a black woman. And for all his seemingly tough exterior, Josh proved to be as spineless as a shrimp.

How could she have been such a fool? She wished to God that she had never seen Josh. And if she could, she’d put two continents between herself and Jon Ecklund.

He isn’t my problem, I am. He probably hasn’t given me another thought, she thought to herself and smiled.

Haley’s seatmate on the London-Nairobi leg of the trip was a distinguished-looking man about fifty years old. She attempted to discourage conversation with him, but he would not be denied. When he produced pictures of his family, on whom he clearly doted, she relaxed and became friendlier. Edgar Layton was a London-based entrepreneur, movie producer and sportsman who knew his way around East Africa and a good deal of the rest of the world. He and his family would be spending the winter at their home in Nairobi. When he learned of Haley’s mission, he assured her that she had only to call his Nairobi office and he would arrange for as much press coverage as she needed and introduce her to any official who could make her work easier.

Layton proved to be as good as his word. And when Haley’s local counterpart failed to keep the first day’s appointment, leaving her effectively stranded, she called him and, within an hour, was able to begin her work. He also invited her to dinner at his home the following evening.

She dressed for the dinner in pink silk slacks and a shirt of matching fabric and color. Layton had said that dining tended to be casual. She found there a very congenial group of expatriates, including Layton’s American-born wife, whom she liked immediately. But the surprise, and she wasn’t sure whether it was a welcome one, was meeting Ian MacKenlin, head of Ecklund International Syndicate’s regional bureau. Dear God. She was thousands of miles from him, but she hadn’t escaped him. When Ian learned of her project, he let her know at once that EIS was at her disposal for press and publicity. What would he say if he knew that she couldn’t get his boss out of her head?

Jon stopped by Ida’s Gourmet Takeout on First Avenue, bought his dinner and headed home. He wanted to catch the seven o’clock international news roundup on EIS TV. He set the containers of crab cakes, red potato salad with dill and sour cream and green beans with butter-almond sauce on his coffee table, opened a can of beer, kicked off his shoes and settled in for dinner and news. He couldn’t believe his eyes when Haley appeared on his screen, explaining the importance of diet, clean water, sanitation and prenatal care for pregnant women. He listened spellbound while she outlined a number of simple and inexpensive measures that would reduce the high risk of childbirth for East African women. And he learned that she would spend two weeks there training social and health workers.

Well, well, he thought, so Dr. Feldon knew her stuff. And she looked damned good on camera, too. She wore that shade of pink well, but to his taste that color was too virginal. The clip was short, but he supposed Ian gave her as much time as he could. He’d like to know more about her, and he made a mental note to call her office the next day.

Amy, Haley’s secretary, was too delighted to outline Haley’s mission for Jon. It didn’t escape him that, given the slightest bit of encouragement, she would have produced a litany of her boss’s virtues. As it was, she didn’t use much self-restraint, informing him that Haley was successful because she devoted all of her time to work and practically none to social life and relaxation. Jon wondered why she needed to tell him that. He respected intelligence and hard work in anybody, but he’d never admired workaholics. Somehow he didn’t think that Haley Feldon’s life was as unbalanced as her secretary’s description suggested. He didn’t question his pleasure at learning that Haley evidently wasn’t spending a lot of time with a man.

Nels paced the balcony of his river view apartment on the Upper East Side. Where were they? He’d gone to considerable inconvenience to arrange an opportunity for Jon and Haley to get together in circumstances more conducive to developing a friendship than chance encounters at the United Nations coffee shop. A glance at his watch told him that it was after nine o’clock. Both were usually good as their word. At last, the doorbell rang. He went to the door, opened it and he watched Haley enter. She looked great as usual. She had changed since they knew each other years earlier, but he couldn’t put a finger on it. Was it polish or sadness?

“There you are,” he beamed. “Come over here. I want you to meet some friends.” He hadn’t meant for Art Chasen to be the first person she met there. Art was definitely not the man you introduced to your sister or to any woman you admired. He needn’t have worried. Haley appraised Art coolly, politely, but kept walking.

“I can see that you’ve grown up,” he told her with brotherly affection. “You couldn’t have dusted Art off more effectively if you had used a chamois.”

“Nels, I don’t play games with men. I want everything up front. It’s easier that way, and one is less likely to get hurt.”

“Someone hurt you, Haley?” Nels regarded her closely. Was he doing the right thing, getting these two wounded doves together?

“Let us just say that I have learned the value of caution,” she said.

“Caution about what?” Haley pivoted around at the sound of Jon’s voice. Why hadn’t she suspected that Nels would invite him? She wasn’t prepared for this. Why was she lying to herself? She was prepared for it. Hadn’t she changed dresses three times before settling on a figure-revealing burnt-orange silk shift, hoping that Jon would be there?

Neither she nor Nels answered.

“My, but you are elegant, as usual,” Jon added. “You’re very lovely tonight, Dr. Feldon.”

“Thank you, and please call me Haley. Dr. Feldon is so formal and seems out of place at the party of a mutual friend.”

“I’ll let you two get better acquainted,” Nels said and walked away. There was a moment of awkward silence.

“Will you call me Jon?”

Haley was startled by the question. Even so, she decided that she liked his voice. Deep and resonant, it befitted the big man that he was, and like the rest of him, it had nothing to spare… Crisp, with just a touch of lilt. He wore a dark gray suit, pale gray on gray silk shirt and a yellow tie almost the color of his hair. She looked at him. He stood no more than an inch taller than Nels, yet beside him, she felt small and feminine. Nels made her feel nothing but friendship.

Her gaze roamed over the lean, beautifully structured form of him, lingering on his muscular thighs, his broad shoulders and, finally, lifting to his mouth. Dear Lord. His mouth! It was the most sensuous thing she had ever seen. Unable to stop herself, she finally, if unwillingly, looked into his fern-green eyes and gasped, audibly. Those green eyes blazed with blatant desire, obviously triggered by her appraisal of him. She looked first at the floor and then toward the ceiling—anyplace but at him.

“Have you eaten?” he asked, attempting to put her at ease.

“No, I haven’t. Thank you.”

Splaying his fingers at her lower back, he guided her to the buffet table of hors d’oeuvres. Somewhat wobbly from their visual caress, she was grateful for his support. He handed her a finger sandwich of smoked salmon, cream cheese and dill on pumpernickel and seemed fascinated as she managed to nibble it without touching her lips. He dipped a crab claw in some pink dressing and then into his mouth.

“Mmm, but this is good,” he said gazing at her. He cleaned his top lip with the tip of his tongue. She knew he hadn’t meant to be provocative, but that gesture was the epitome of provocation.

She stared at him. Was his every move a sexual innuendo? Maybe she was just reading sensuality into it. In all her twenty-eight years, she had never responded to a man this way. She probably didn’t even know what a woman’s response to a man was supposed to be. Lord knows, her one short abysmal experience with Joshua had been devastating.

“The annual Second Avenue festival starts Friday. Have you ever been?” At this point, she would’ve said anything to change the focus of her unruly thoughts.

“No. Why?” he asked.

“You seem to enjoy eating, and some of the food at that festival is so fantastic that I just throw caution to the four winds, forget the guilt and dig in.”

Jon sensed that she wanted to find neutral ground, that the electricity passing between them had made her uneasy. But he’d be damned if he was going to chitchat about something so banal as a street fair. He’d choose his own safe topic.

“You were great on camera,” he said. “You looked good, too. After I recovered from the surprise of seeing you, I listened to what you had to say. Your message was impressive. If you ever want to change careers, I hope you’ll consider EIS. Believe me, the door is open.”

She made no effort to hide her pleasure at his remarks. “Thank you,” she said, simply. “I was a little nervous, as I’d had less than an hour’s notice that my talk would be televised. And I was excited when I realized that it would be broadcast to the States.” And that it was your network and that you would probably see me, she added silently.

“What do you think of Ian MacKenlin?” Now, why had he asked that? What could she think? Ian was competent and always did his job well. He was also hell with women or had been before he married the year before. What was it to him, anyway? What she did was her business. He made an effort to straighten out his mind and get it going in the right direction. He hardly knew this woman, and it was foolish to be thinking about what man she’d seen or hadn’t seen, liked or hadn’t liked. “Did he, uh, show you around, some sightseeing, that sort of thing?” He winced at his own transparency.

“Why? Is that company policy?”

“Well, for someone who’s never been to the place before…” He stopped himself. He wouldn’t continue that inane conversation. And what she did, he reminded himself again, was her business. Still…

“Mr. MacKenlin introduced me to his wife, who took me shopping in the local marketplace and on home to dinner with them. It was a wonderful evening, and I’m hoping that she and I will remain friends, even over long distance.” She wondered why Jon Ecklund was asking her about MacKenlin. Could he possibly care who she was with? Her mind wondered on. She’d bet her PhD that Jon Ecklund was a thorough man. Thinking that if he made love to a woman, he’d do a man’s job of it, she felt her mouth go dry and her face heat up. She tried not to look at him, but her eyes disobeyed her, and she stared into those fern-green pools of sensuality. God help her, she didn’t want this.

“Do you like music?” he asked, bringing her out of her reverie.

“Yes,” she said. He had rescued her again. “I like the classics, especially Mozart, most of Puccini’s operas, blues and classical jazz. I love jazz.”

He listened to her low, soft voice. It warmed him. Yes, just being with her warmed him. Maybe she wasn’t as cold as she always looked. He took her hand, and although she offered no objection, he sensed the tension in her.

“Will you dance with me?” He wanted her in his arms. He knew that he should go slowly, but he couldn’t. His instinct told him that he was vulnerable to her, but he pushed the warning aside. “Come with me,” he said softly, her hand still wrapped in his. She said nothing and didn’t remove her hand, but she went with him.

Nels had converted the dining room for dancing, and several couples were on the floor. As the band began to play “If I Loved You” from Nels’s sound system, he turned to her and opened his arms. She walked into them. For seconds, they didn’t move. Then he began a slow two-step. Though she was tall, at least five feet ten inches, he had to bend a little. She reached up and put her arms around his neck, as if in an embrace and, as he moved, she began to sing the words in a sweet, sultry contralto. She had him spellbound. Her beautiful voice reached into his heart and grabbed him, and her soft body molded perfectly to his. He knew he should put on the brakes, but he wanted more. He didn’t know where it would lead, but he wanted to know her, all of her.

They realized that the music had stopped and that they still held each other.

“You must be a magician.”

“Who, me?” He couldn’t believe that anyone would describe him in that manner.

“Yes, you,” she bantered. “You’ve cast a spell on me. I don’t hug strange men,” she continued, laughing. He grinned. Then he laughed a clear, soul-cleansing laugh.

She stared at him, captivated. “You ought to laugh all the time,” she blurted out. “You’re very attractive when you laugh.”

He stopped laughing and just looked at her. Was she making a pass at him? She was dead serious. She thought he was good looking, at least when he laughed.

“Keep me happy, and I’ll laugh all you want.”

She didn’t respond.

“I was jesting, Haley, I don’t mean to step out of line with you,” he said softly.

“Step out of line? I thought you were being witty. What does it take to keep you happy? I can imagine that you don’t want for the company of beautiful women.” They walked off the floor, but the closeness that they had felt was gone.

He thought for a moment. He wanted to be truthful without seeming arrogant. “Beautiful, sophisticated women are not what it takes to make me happy or, for that matter, even to alleviate boredom.”

When she didn’t respond, he asked himself how they had gotten into something that personal. She had been teasing, and his response had been way too serious.

Nels rescued them. “I see you two have been getting acquainted. Supper is being served. Come on back in the kitchen. I’ve set a table for the three of us back there.”

“Are you deserting your other guests, Nels?” Haley wanted to know.

Nels grinned, effectively admitting that he was matchmaking. “The only guests of importance are right here with me. I see the rest of them as often as I like. Let’s plan a time when we can get together, Jon. I want to know what you’ve been doing these past five years.”

“Okay, we’ll plan something.” They bantered and joked as if they had always been a threesome. When they’d finished the roasted pheasant, grilled mushrooms and steamed artichokes, they had a green salad and Blue Stilton cheese.

Haley leaned back and sighed. “Nels, if I had a butler, I’d want you to train him. You’re the perfect host.”

“He is, if he happens to want to pick your brain, like now,” Jon observed.

After raspberry sherbet and coffee, Jon stood. “It’s time to call this wonderful evening to a halt. May I see you home, Haley?”

“Oh, I live way over on the west side.”

“Where on the west side?” Jon asked her.

“Well, Riverside Drive. That’s probably out of your way.” It was twenty-five blocks out of his way, if he was concerned with distance. But his instincts told him that it was the most direct route to where he wanted to be.

“No, it isn’t out of my way. I’ll give you a call, Nels.”

Haley hugged Nels and thanked him for the party, and it annoyed Jon that she put her arms around Nels and kissed him on the cheek. He refused to ask himself why he should get sore about a thing like that.

“Shape up, man,” he said to himself. She didn’t belong to him and never would. What had he been thinking all evening, anyway? As they reached the elevator, he felt himself withdrawing.

They were silent as the elevator descended the twenty-two floors to the lobby. She didn’t look at Jon, but he looked at her. Why hadn’t he told Nels that he’d be busy? He’d had a suspicion that she would be there. Damn, he’d wanted her to be there, had wanted to see her again. He knew that she sensed his withdrawal and was hurt by it, but he made no move to bridge the chasm that he had deliberately erected between them. He was never going to give another woman the opportunity to crush him—and that included the elegant Dr. Feldon.

As they reached the street, Haley sighted a taxi, flagged it and reached for its door.

“Now, wait a minute, here. I told you that I would see you home.”

“No, thank you. I am perfectly capable of seeing myself safely home, and I won’t have to contend with any lightning fast mood changes, since I don’t have them.” She closed the door and gave the cabbie her address. The taxi moved away from the curb, leaving a stunned Jon staring at its taillights. No goodbye, no see you, no nothing. Well, what should he have expected?

“You young people are always quarreling. Now, me and my Beth, we never had a cross word from the time we met, and we’ve been married forty-three years. Soon as I set eyes on ’er, I knew she was for me. Your man seemed like a nice one,” the cabbie said. “What’s the problem? Think you two can work it out?”

Haley blew out a long breath. “The trouble with him is that he goes from tepid to hot to cold in a couple of minutes, and I like dependable personalities and stability in my life. Anyway, he isn’t my man.”

“From what you just said, I can tell he’s ’bout hooked. You listen to me, here. When a man acts like that, he’s interested—don’t want to be and fast losing the battle. You’ll see. Well, here ya are, little lady. That’s thirteen-eighty. Mark my word, you ain’t seen the last of that one.”

Haley leaned back in her desk chair and let her gaze sweep the autumn colors that beautified her office. She’d been in that rut ever since Nels’s party. Three weeks down the drain. If she didn’t get that proposal written, she could just forget about the health education program for reservation children. She swore vehemently. Why couldn’t she get Jon Ecklund out of her head? She couldn’t think of anything except the way she’d felt in his arms when he held her and danced with her. She’d felt his masculine strength, the force of his personality and his barely controlled passion. She knew he wanted her, and she also knew that something restrained him. She told herself that it was best to forget about him. Come hell or high water, she would.

The ring of the telephone invaded her thoughts. “Yes, Amy?” Amy had been her secretary since the doors of IISP first opened. The stunning fifty-year-old redheaded grandmother had a husband who had practically worshipped her for 28 years. She was fiercely loyal to Haley.

“Mr. Andersen. Can you take it?”

“Hello, Nels. What can I do for you?”

“Well, you can begin by being less officious. What in heaven’s name have you done to Jon? He came over yesterday, asking all kinds of questions about you. But he didn’t want any answers. I think he just wanted to get tanked, and believe me, he got tanked. And he didn’t even get high once when we were in college. I still can’t believe he did what I saw him do yesterday.”

“You were in college with him?”

“Yeah. We were roommates and best friends for four years as undergraduates and two years in graduate school. We both got degrees in journalism. Haley, Jon is about the finest man I have ever met. If I had a sister, I would do my best to make him my brother-in-law. He’s straight. And you’ve got him spinning. We’ve got to talk about this.”

“Nels, I’ll talk about anything you want after I finish this grant proposal. I am trying to get funding for a project to improve health education among reservation kids in the first through ninth grades.”

“Are we speaking every kid on every reservation?”

“No, I’m just going to try two or three pilot projects, just to demonstrate what can be done with a small investment.”

“Are you going to include the Comanche, since they’re your own people?”

“Nels, the Comanche do not live on a reservation, though most of us are settled out in Oklahoma.”

“Haley, I’m not about to go into the geography of the Native Americans right now. I want to talk to you about Jon.”

“Nels, give me a break. I don’t want to talk about Jon Ecklund. Period. That man is the reason why I’m struggling with this proposal and getting nowhere.”

“Why, what did he do?”

“Nothing” was the nettled response. She said goodbye and placed the phone in its cradle. It was enough to have to think about the man; she’d be damned if she was going to spend the afternoon talking about him. Besides, anybody with sense could see that Jon Ecklund was more than man enough to fight his own battles and win his own wars.

What I need, she thought, after a moment of reflection, is better information about the schools on these reservations. She punched the intercom button. “Amy, please tell Spencer that I want to see him now.”

“Right, Haley.”

“Spencer, I want a report on the national ranking of primary and secondary students attending school on these three reservations—students per teacher, average attendance and annual education expenditure per student. And I want it by ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”

“You don’t want much,” a chastened Spencer observed.

“No, I don’t. See you at ten o’clock in the morning.” As Spencer walked out, it occurred to her that she would probably fire him within the next six months. His arrogance was becoming intolerable.

Maybe she should make on-site visits to the schools, using Spencer’s report as preparatory material. Where was she going to get all of this time? Her mother might have some ideas. Haley telephoned her in Washington, and indeed she did. Gale Feldon had taken early retirement from her university post as professor of history, but retirement didn’t sit well with her. Haley wasn’t surprised when her mother offered to make the trip out to Oklahoma and undertake an on-site investigation. Unlike her daughter, Gale understood and spoke the language and had good contacts among her own people. That was all the entrée she would need to speak to the neighboring tribes. They agreed that she and Gale would leave Wednesday morning, carrying Spencer’s report and a consultant’s contract from IISP. Haley would visit schools of the other two tribes.

Haley was back in her office the following Monday morning with everything she needed for the proposal. Gale Feldon’s highly professional report awaited her. Now, she only had to put it together and polish it off. “Yes, Amy.”

“Mr. Ecklund. He’s called half a dozen times since you left on Wednesday. I left the notes on your desk.”

“Thanks, I’ll take the call. Hello, Jon.”

“Hello, Haley.” She had forgotten the beauty of his deep, velvet baritone. It warmed her all over. It soothed her, wrapped her up in warm contentment.

“Haley, would you have dinner with me tonight? I want to see you again. Something went wrong between us. Will you please let me clear it up?”

“Jon, I’m terribly busy. I’m sorry.”

“Just like that? But you will eat, won’t you? I know that I am responsible for the hostility that you must feel toward me, but—”

She interrupted him. It wasn’t exactly hostility that she felt toward him, but he had hurt her, and she didn’t want to expose herself to any more hurt from him.

“I do not feel hostile toward you. I told you. I’m busy. I have to finish a proposal.”

“All right. When will you have dinner with me?”

“If I agree to have dinner with you, are you sure you won’t change your mind, lose your appetite, get an urgent call to leave town or something?”

“I deserve that.”

“My, my, such humility. I have to get back to work now. Goodbye.” She hung up.

“Amy, come in and take a letter, please.” Amy’s pleasant smile disappeared abruptly as she walked into the office, and from her demeanor, Haley knew that Amy had detected her distress.

“This is to the Brayton-Rogers Foundation. The usual salutation. I am writing to request your support of educa…” She couldn’t stop the tremors in her voice. Horrified, Amy moved forward to comfort her, but embarrassed, Haley stepped away from the desk.

“Amy, please excuse me for a few minutes.”

“But, Haley—”

“I’ll be fine. Please, Amy.”

Amy left. Haley went into her private bathroom and calmed herself. She hadn’t wanted to hurt Jon, only to preserve her sanity. How must he feel? She had never hung up on anybody, not even people whom she disliked. Why had she reacted so harshly?

When she had regained composure, she acknowledged to herself that she should apologize to Jon. After looking through her personal address book, she dialed a number from it. Nels answered on the first ring.

“Haley here. Can you give me Jon’s telephone number?”

“Home or office?”

“Wherever he’s likely to be right now.”

He gave her both. “Haley, what is going on?”

She thought for a moment. “Nels, I really don’t know. Please be a friend, and don’t ask anything of me just now.”

“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.”

She accepted the pastrami on whole wheat sandwich. “I bet if you tried hard you could come up with another one. I mean, the head of EIS is a clever man, isn’t he?”

“Listen, you temptress, try to remember not to goad me. I may surprise you.”

“Yes, but we’ve already established that you’re a gentleman. You don’t beat women, and you want to find out what kind of person I am. Agreed?” He nodded. “In that case, I can be myself. And in case you haven’t noticed, I love to flirt.”

His eyes widened. Suddenly, he began to laugh. Then the laugh phased into a cough. She slapped him on the back several times.

“Are you all right?” she asked him. “I mean, are you choking?”

He swallowed some wine, cleared his throat and stared at her. “You’ve got more sides than an octagon, and I want to explore every side and every facet of you.”

She thought about that for a long minute. “Then why were you laughing?”

“Frankly, the joke was on me. I realize that in you I might have met my match, and that would be a first.”

He poured wine into their glasses and raised his. “I’m going to do everything I can to make you care for me.”

She tilted her glass of wine and drank every drop. “At least you have the grace to warn me.”

“Seems to me that when you drank that you just gave me license to pull out the stops.”

She put her empty glass on the green grass beside her, leaned over and stroked his hair. “I’m counting on your good judgment.”

“Be careful, Haley. I’ve made mistakes, and because I’m still human, I may make some more.”

“Not to worry,” she said, still stroking. “I’ll keep you out of trouble.”

“Yeah. Just like you did the other night when we went to dinner.” She stretched out beside him, and he needed no further invitation. For the first time, she looked up into his face while lying supine, and frissons of heat plowed through her.

“Kiss me. Open your mouth and kiss me.”

She sucked his tongue into her mouth and gripped his shoulders, asking for more, wanting him and relief from the tension stirring in her. Almost immediately, he broke the kiss.

“No more of that.” He took her hand and locked her fingers through his. “I haven’t felt this content in years. I love being with you, Haley, and I want us to spend as much time as possible together. Can we?”

“I enjoy being with you, Jon, but let’s take it one day at a time.”

“If that’s all you can give me now, I have to accept it. But I want more. Much more.”

That night, after wrestling interminably with the sheets on her bed, trying to fit the images of Jon into a safe place outside of her heart, Haley got up and made coffee. Maybe if she worked she’d stop thinking about him. She took her briefcase and files to bed and completed the Brayton-Rogers proposal. She was satisfied that she’d done the best possible job on it. Spencer had produced an excellent report on all three school systems, and her own and her mother’s on-site visits had provided material for a first-rate proposal. She went to shower, but as she reached the bathroom, she paused. What was she going to do about Jon?

She’d promised them a chance, but could she risk rejection again? She wanted him. No, she was crazy for him. In her life, she had never before felt as she had in his arms. He was big, strong and… Oh Lord, he was so tender. The way he’d kissed her, hungry, hot, telling her without words that she was desirable. And sweet. He was so sweet and gentle. And he had tried not to let her know what was going on with him, how hard he was. If he’d taken her right there in her foyer, she would probably have let him.

Thank God he hadn’t pushed it further. She had thought only about his arms tight around her, his velvet tongue in her mouth and his hard penis pressed against her belly. And when he’d gazed down at her face as she lay on her back in Central Park, letting her see how deeply he felt for her, she had wanted to wrap her arms and legs around him and make love with him.

Later that morning, as she entered her outer office, where Amy sat, she stopped. What on earth was Jon doing here at nine o’clock in the morning?

“Hi.” She was disconcerted at seeing him when her mind had been full of him since long before daylight.

“Morning, Haley.” He never said good morning or good evening. She loved his low, sonorous baritone, the slow lilting cadence of his speech.

“Come on in,” she said, haltingly, not knowing the purpose of his visit and instinctively sensing some kind of a confrontation. Amy brought two mugs of coffee with sugar and cream on the side.

“Mrs. Birch, this is Jon Ecklund. Mr. Ecklund is president and cochairman of Ecklund International Syndicate.”

“I’m pleased to meet you in person, Mr. Ecklund. I watch your news channel all the time.”

“How do you do, Mrs. Birch?”

Amazed, Haley watched as Jon winked at her secretary.

“I’m delighted that you use our news service. We strive for accurate and comprehensive reporting,” he said with a grin.

“That’s the impression we all get, too,” Amy replied as she left the room smiling. Haley knew that Amy wanted more than anything for her to find a man who would fill the void in her life.

She and Jon gazed at each other quietly, as if words were unnecessary, as if it were enough that they were together. He smiled again, and she felt as if her heart were in her throat. She wondered if he had ever seen himself smile.

“You’re ruining my life,” he teased. “I can get along without sleep and without food, but it seems I can’t go one day without seeing you.”

She stared at him.

“And if you don’t close your mouth,” he went on, “I may have to kiss you.”

Was he teasing her?

Rising to the bait, she opened her mouth wider but, filled with mirth, couldn’t keep the pose, and a grin broke out over her face. He didn’t hesitate—just pulled her out of the chair and hugged her. She looked up at him in wonder, her gaze settling upon his sensuous lips. Then she looked into his eyes and gasped. In that split second, he’d unclothed his soul, and all that he felt, all that he longed for, all that he feared was mirrored in the light of his eyes. She stared, mesmerized, until he bent his head and brushed her lips with his own, ever so lightly, before crushing her mouth with all the longing that she had seen in his eyes. She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed his cheek.

“I’m going home for six months. Will you be here for me when I get back?”

She pulled away a bit. “When did you decide that?”

“Last night. I have to sort out a lot of things before I can carry this relationship further. No, there is no other woman and there won’t be, but I need to figure some things out.”

He needed answers, and he had decided that after all the years of pain and hurt he wanted to be whole. He wasn’t giving up this woman without an honest effort to deal with his problem. He would begin with his parents. It had occurred to him that they might have answers. He had always been able to discuss anything with his parents, but he wasn’t sure about this.

“Tell me, Haley, do you feel that you can wait for me?”

“I told you that there is no one else. I care for you. Is that enough?”

“It will have to be. Knowing that you care for me means everything.” He folded her close to his body. “I’m going to leave tomorrow night. Will you have dinner with me this evening?”

“Yes, I will. How shall I dress? Are you going ‘black tie?’”

“Yep.” She lifted an eyebrow and nodded assent. She’d been joking, but he clearly had not.

Back at his office, Jon spoke to Maxine through the intercom. “Tell DuPree I want to see him right now.”

“Right.”

“And, Maxine, I’m transferring you to HR as of this morning. Tell Catherine to send the senior pool secretary to see me in about an hour.”

“But, Jon—”

“That will be all, Maxine.” He didn’t have time for Maxine’s brand of male mind bending. She could pout and raise her skirt for the next decade, but he didn’t want to put up with it any longer.

“Morning, Jason. I hope I didn’t drag you away from something urgent. This is the situation. I’m going to Oslo tomorrow night, possibly for as long as six months, and you’ll be in charge here. If there’s anything that you need, you know where to call. Any questions?”

Jason DuPree had been with EIS for five years and knew every aspect of its operations. He was also a widely respected journalist and had earned his credentials on the battlefields of Vietnam, as well as AU’s School of Journalism. He was a big man physically and wasn’t known for tolerating nonsense or disloyalty on the job. He was also a compassionate man who knew how to be a friend.

“Morning, Jon. Yes, you interrupted something. And yes, I have a question.”

Jon narrowed his eyes and leaned forward.

“What have you decided to do about Hyfelt?” Dupree asked.

“I’m going to postpone his retirement by sending him over to broadcasting. His scripts will be written for him, as they are for everyone else. He’ll have no need to feel as if he’s being discriminated against because of his age.”

“Couldn’t agree with you more. What about Maxine?”

“She’s being transferred to human resources after lunch today.”

“Excellent idea. I don’t like working with her. What about you? Is everything alright with you? I don’t mean to pry.”

“I’m okay. I’ll be working out of the head office during this period. It’s just that I need to straighten out a few things back there. I’m glad you’re on my team, Jason.”

“Me, too. All the best. And keep in touch.”

“Will do.” Feeling better about his life and his future than he had in years, he cleaned out his desk, left the office and walked out of the building and into the morning sun.

Haley arrived at her Riverside Drive apartment at half past five and wasted no time getting ready for her last evening with Jon. Six months. She wouldn’t see him for six months. She knew that she would miss him, and she also knew that the time was not yet right for their joining as man and woman. He had intimated as much, and she had her own demons to lay to rest. But she refused to allow such thoughts to spoil her time with him that night.

She filled the tub with warm water, dropped in half a cup of French perfumed liquid soap, got her worn copy of Barrett Browning’s poems and stepped in for an hour of luxurious self-indulgence.

After her bath, she toweled dry and sprayed her body with perfume. Then she put a pair of red silk bikini panties beneath a red silk chiffon strapless evening gown that hugged her tightly from her bosom to her hip line and then fell straight to her ankles. A slit from the hem to her right thigh completed the daring image. She wore sapphire earrings and placed her maternal grandmother’s sapphire brooch just at her cleavage. Then she donned black satin elbow-length gloves and black satin sandals, picked up a matching evening bag, threw her sable capelet on her arm and headed for her living room. She reached it just as the bell rang.

The man who stood at her door nearly took her breath away. He looked good enough to eat in his black tuxedo and tucked white silk shirt. They smiled at each other. She opened the door, and he entered slowly, as if at war with himself. He looked at her for a minute, smiled, took her in his arms and hugged her but didn’t kiss her.

“Stunning hardly describes what I…what I see right now.”

It amazed her that this man who always seemed in command now groped for words. Then she realized that the evening was as overwhelming for him as it was for her.

“Perhaps I’d better bring my Colt .45 along,” she said to lighten the mood.

“Whatever on earth for?”

“I want to be sure that you bring me home tonight and not some other woman. And I’m serving notice that, like my forebears before me, I’m fully capable of protecting my interests.”

He was perplexed for a second and then gave that rare full-throated laugh that she enjoyed so much.

As the car pulled away from the curb, Jon pressed the lever that revealed the bar, opened a bottle of champagne and filled two crystal champagne glasses. He handed one to Haley.

“To a really lovely woman,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said and sipped her drink.

“Nels wouldn’t tell me what your background is,” he said, looking intently at her. “He just said that it is very intriguing. I’ve done some guessing, but I want you to tell me.”

“I’m twenty-eight. My father was African American from North Carolina, and my mother is Native American. Our tribe is Comanche, and most of our people are out in Oklahoma, though they are not on reservations. My parents lived and worked in Washington, DC, where my mother still lives. We lost my father twelve years ago.”

“How’d your parents get to Washington, DC?”

“They both went to college there, so that’s where they settled.”

He nodded very slowly. “I see. Were you happy growing up?”

“Yes. We had love to spare. I have one brother who’s a few years my senior. I’ve known two of my grandparents. My paternal grandfather used to visit us often when I was little, and he always spoke about our heritage. He was such a wonderful man, and he loved my brother and me so much that we used to say he just wrapped us up in love as if it were a blanket. I’ll miss him as long as I live.” He refilled their glasses.

“Are you like your mother?”

“Well, I look a bit like her, but I have my father’s disposition, more or less. Why?”

“Oh, I just want to know as much as possible about you.” He took her hand, stroking it gently. Without realizing it, she moved closer to him, feeling a comfort, a peace that she didn’t think their relationship warranted. She sighed.

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