One Night With You
Gwynne Forster
Everybody's guilty of something…And Judge Kendra Rutherford is guilty of letting handsome architect Reid Maguire become a tempting distraction, and allowing his legal battle to become entirely too heated and personal. But after losing his reputation in a bitter courtroom fight with his ex-wife, Reid is determined to clear his name and rebuild his career. Now only the sexy judge presiding over the trial can give him back everything he lost. But she's making it hard for him to keep his priorities straight, especially when their passion and rival ambitions collide, and they're both guilty of losing their hearts…
One Night With You
Gwynne Forster
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Contents
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Acknowledgments
My sincere thanks to my editor, Mavis Allen, who makes it a pleasure to write; to Carole Joy Smith, who has known me longer than most people have and whose friendship and never-ceasing encouragement are among the true treasures of my life; and to my beloved husband, my solid rock every day of our marriage.
Chapter 1
“I’m fed up. I deserve a life, and I’m going to have one,” Kendra Rutherford said aloud minutes after she awoke that cold December morning. So resolute was she that, without waiting to brush her teeth, she wrote a letter to the Chowan County, North Carolina, court clerk.
Dear Sir,
For the last five years, I have gone once monthly to every hamlet in Chowan County to judge the cases awaiting trial. I am tired of it. I am bored with it. I want a change, and if you cannot assign me to a single, permanent jurisdiction, expect my resignation.
Yours sincerely,
Kendra Rutherford, JD, Esq.
She addressed, stamped and sealed an envelope, thinking, I can always return to law practice. Arguing some of these petty disputes is less boring than judging them anyway.
“But being a judge is an esteemed position,” her sister, Claudine, said when they spoke later that day.
“Big deal,” Kendra replied. “It’s been so long since I had a date that I wouldn’t know how to act on one. Nobody invites me to go anywhere. It’s been a year since I was in anybody’s home other than mine, excluding yours and our parents’, of course. In the first place, people who know I’m a judge practically genuflect when they see me, and in the second, I don’t stay any one place long enough to make friends with men or women. Half the time, my family has no idea where I am unless I telephone.”
“Good grief, Kendra, I hadn’t thought of it that way. Papa loves saying, ‘My daughter Kendra, the judge.’ He’ll be unhappy if you quit.”
“He’ll be even more unhappy if I go nuts. Fourteen years after getting my law degree, I don’t have a single thing to show for it. As a judge, I’m at the bottom of the pile. Socially, I’m not even in the pile. There’ll be some changes made. And soon.”
“It isn’t like you to do anything rash, Kendra.”
“That’s the worst thing you could have said to me. Hell, Claudine, I don’t even remember being a teenager. Work hard, study hard, please everybody! That’s been my life since I remember it.”
“Yeah? And it paid off, didn’t it?”
“Depends who’s looking at it. Look, sis, I’d better pack,” Kendra said. “I have to try cases in six towns before I get back home. Last time I was on this circuit, I ran out of stockings and underwear, so I have to concentrate on what I’m doing right now. Talk to you soon.”
Reid Maguire propped his left foot on the bottom rung of a ladder that leaned against Philip Dickerson’s stables and looked eye to eye at the owner of the largest agricultural enterprise in southeastern Maryland.
“It’s time I left Dickerson Estates and got on with my life,” Reid told Philip, the man who had saved his life and, in due course, become closer to him than his own brother. “I’ve saved enough to get started, and I have a job. I’ll be an assistant architect in a noted firm, but after what Brown and Worley and that class-action suit did to my reputation, I’m fortunate to get that.”
“It isn’t going to be easy for you, Reid. You were one of the foremost architects in that part of Maryland, and you had your own firm. You were the one giving the orders. This will be a terrible comedown.”
“I know, Philip. And I’ve reconciled myself to it. But by all logic, I should be dead, and if it hadn’t been for you, I would be. It had to be a blessing that I stopped you on the street in Baltimore that day and asked you for a dollar and a half. I meant to buy a razor with it and finish myself off. One day I was on top financially and professionally, and, thanks to the biggest lie ever propagated in a court, a day later I was flat-broke and even my home and my car were taken from me. Worst of all, with my reputation destroyed, no one would hire me. I slept on the street, and lived off the kindness of strangers.
“If my beautiful wife had sold the jewelry I’d bought her or gotten a job and taken care of us until I could ride out the storm, it would have been different, but no. The lady walked. You didn’t give me the money I asked you for, Philip. Instead, you offered me a job and a second chance. If you ever need me, just call. You will always know where I am.”
“Thanks, friend,” Philip said. “Just stay in close touch. I know you’ll be back on top. If you need me, you know where to find me.”
They embraced each other, and Reid gazed around him at the prosperity that was Dickerson Estates, cultivated land as far as he could see; fruit and nut orchards. He painted in his memory the big white Georgian mansion, stables, barns and the dormitory he had designed that allowed the eleven men who lived and worked on Dickerson Estates to have privacy within the context of communal living—men of different races, languages and religions whose lives Philip Dickerson had turned around when he gave them a second chance.
It had been his home for six years. Years during which he’d come to accept that the woman he’d loved, who’d sworn that she loved him and who bore his name, had divorced him because he could no longer care for her in the manner to which he had made her accustomed. He gripped Philip’s shoulder and, for a moment, stared into the man’s eyes, sky-blue eyes that he’d always seen as gentle and caring.
Without another word, he walked away. As he headed down the lane to the big iron gate that bore the letters DE, Max, Philip’s foreman, drove past him and stopped.
“Hop in, Reid. Where you headed?”
“The bus station. Trains and planes don’t go to Queenstown, North Carolina, where I have a job.”
“Never heard of it. What part of the state?” Max asked as he drove through the gate.
“It’s over on the Albemarle Sound toward the border with Virginia.”
“It won’t be the same here without you, man. We’ll all miss you. Good luck to you.”
“Thanks, Max.”
Two hours later, Reid sat on an interstate bus headed for the next chapter in his life.
Kendra drove through the sleet and slush to get to the post office. No matter how many times she asked the court clerk to send her mail to her home address, the man sent it to the post office box that she used only to prevent certain people from knowing where she lived. To her delight, she found the clerk’s letter and opened it before she closed and locked her box. “Dear Judge Rutherford,” he wrote.
I am happy to inform you that as of January eleventh, you will preside at criminal court in Queenstown. If I may be of any further assistance, please let me know.
Ethan Sparks, County Clerk
Hmmm. So she had only to ask. It was a lesson she did not plan to forget. Inasmuch as she’d had few reasons to spend her salary, apart from rent and a few personal items, she decided to buy a house. She packed her belongings, had them stored, drove to Queenstown and rented a room in a bed and breakfast, then began her search for a house. After a week, she settled on a town house in Albemarle Gates, a new, elegant Queenstown community on a hill overlooking the Sound and within walking distance of Courthouse Square where she would work. The back of the house afforded an un-obstructed view of the Sound. Delighted with her choice, she signed and received the deed, had her furniture and other belongings moved to her new home and settled in at Number 37A Albemarle Heights, Albemarle Gates.
The second morning Kendra was in her new home, exhausted from moving and arranging furniture, the sound of drums, at least one bugle and a trumpet brought her to her second-floor window facing the street. She dropped the pillows she had been changing on the bed and raced down to the front door to see what she thought was some kind of ceremonial parade. Native Americans, some in full tribal regalia, danced along in traditional tribal steps, and as many African-Americans, including the bugler and the trumpeter, danced with them. When they stopped in front of Albemarle Gates, she was delighted, but when a neighbor standing nearby groaned, “Oh, Lord. Here they are again,” she got a feeling of apprehension.
“What’s the problem?” she asked the young woman.
The woman rolled her eyes and threw up her hands as if in exasperation. “Honey, you don’t want to know.”
“Oh, but I do.”
“They’re picketing the builders, Brown and Worley, because they built this community on top of sacred Indian burial grounds, and in this town, whatever riles the Indians upsets the blacks and vice versa. They stick together, and they get things done, but not this time. Nobody is going to tear down Albemarle Gates. Besides, I hear Brown and Worley are fixing to build another one of these communities over near the park. Where you been you don’t know about this?”
“I’ve been in Queenstown exactly ten days.” She turned to introduce herself, but the woman had left. Hmmm. Nice to meet you.
She went back into the house and sat down to con template what she’d just learned. How would the controversy affect her in her role as judge? Obviously, many local people would think that, by living there, she had taken sides with Brown and Worley. She didn’t like it, but she’d signed the deed and taken the mortgage, and she didn’t see a way out.
In the supermarket the next day, Kendra received a sample of small-town hospitality when she put her groceries on the check-out counter. “How are you today?” she asked the clerk. “Pretty cold out, isn’t it?”
“Push your stuff forward. The belt’s not working.”
She scrutinized the woman, making certain that she was a sister. “Do you live here in Queenstown?” Kendra asked her.
The woman stopped work and gazed at her. “I live here. My mother and father live here, and so did my grandparents and great-grandparents. Anything else you need to know?”
Taken aback and angered at the woman’s insulting tone, Kendra said, “Pardon me. I didn’t expect a nasty response to my graciousness. I don’t care where you live.” She paid for the groceries and drove home. In front of her house, she took the bags of groceries out of the trunk of her car, closed the lid and lost her footing, slipping on the ice. Her packages fell to the ice, spilling the contents, and she struggled unsuccessfully to get enough traction to heave herself to her feet. Not certain whether to laugh or cry at the spectacle she suspected she was, she relaxed and lay there.
To her amazement and eternal thanks, two large hands gripped her shoulders and lifted her to her feet. A smile began to spread over her face as she looked up at her rescuer, but it ended around her lips, as she practically froze. She had never seen such eyes, mesmerizing grayish-brown eyes that seemed ready to sleep beneath their long curly lashes. Eyes that didn’t seem compatible with the man’s strong masculine presence. She stared at him. Poleaxed. Stupefied and unable to pull herself out of it.
“Are you all right now?” he asked her, his voice deep and lilting.
She thought she nodded. He bent down to pick up an orange and was suddenly chasing oranges and lemons across the ice, music pouring out of him as he did so, in what she figured was a laugh. As he managed to retrieve the fruit, he stashed it in the pockets of his thick leather jacket. He seemed to be having the time of his life as he chased and recovered the fruit. He got a head of cabbage, looked at it, shrugged and handed it to her. She put it in the grocery bag. He played the game until the grocery bags were almost full. Then he took the fruit from his pockets and put it in the bags.
“Where do you live?” he asked her. “I’d better carry this for you, because I’m not sure I’m up to sliding around to pick this stuff up again.”
“I don’t know how to thank you. I’d probably still be trying to get up.”
“It was my pleasure. Best exercise I’ve had in a while.”
She opened her front door, and he put the bags on the floor in the foyer beside the door. “I’m Kendra Rutherford, and I just moved here.”
“I’m Reid Maguire, and I live in that apartment building across the street from here. Nice to meet you.” He turned and left, and she realized that he had shown absolutely no interest in developing a friendship with her. What a letdown!
Reid Maguire didn’t talk much, and he never spoke if silence would suffice. He didn’t know Kendra Rutherford, and his reaction to her was none of her business. If he’d learned anything, it was the virtue of feeding a good-looking, sexy woman with a long-handled spoon, as it were, so as to keep as much distance as possible between him and her. Kendra Rutherford might not be an aggressive man-eater, but her reaction to him was the same as his to her, and that spelled trouble.
There might not be another woman on earth like Myrna, his ex-wife, but he didn’t intend to start testing that theory. He’d had it with women, and he didn’t want one cluttering up his life pretending that she loved him, when she only loved what he could give her. At the moment when he had needed his wife most, she had walked out on him.
Tomorrow, he would begin work as an assistant with the architectural firm Marks and Connerly, Architects, Ltd. He didn’t intend to spread information about his former status. If his new colleagues guessed or knew who he was, so be it; if not, he didn’t care. He was back in his chosen field, and he meant to make the most of it.
But he was not to have the benefit of anonymity. “I’ve been doing some research on you, Reid,” Jack Connerly, the senior partner, told him when they met, “and I think we hit the jackpot when we hired you. We’ve contracted to design an airport terminal in Caution Point, about thirty miles from here. Would you like the job?”
“I’m stunned. How many enemies in the firm will this get me?”
“Who knows? Do you want it?”
“Absolutely. I’d like to see the site, but I don’t have a car.”
“You can take a company car. Make a list of what you need to work with and give it to the supply clerk. Your expenses are covered up to three fifty per day, excluding transportation, and you can’t put alcohol on your tab.”
“Thanks. I’ll give you two or three sketches.”
“Great. It’s good to have you with us. Your office is two doors down on the right.”
Reid walked down to the end of the hall and back. There were sixteen offices, eight on each side of the corridor, and only one office separated his from that of the senior partner. So far, so good. They weren’t paying him what he was worth, but when he finished the design of that airport terminal, they would.
In the drugstore about three blocks from his apartment, where he stopped in the hope of finding a felt-tipped pen, he bumped into Kendra, almost knocking her down.
“Hello,” she said. “I’m not usually this clumsy.”
“It was my fault. I hope I didn’t hurt you.” He allowed himself a smile, and headed for the aisle in which he’d previously found unlined tablets large enough for drawing, though he would have preferred bigger ones. Seeing no pens of any kind, he walked around until he’d satisfied himself that he wouldn’t find them in that store, and that he’d have to wait till the supply clerk at Marks and Connerly filled his order. As he started for the door, he noticed Kendra struggling with a large container of liquid soap and a few other items. After counseling himself to pretend he didn’t see her, because he didn’t want any involvement with her, he walked over to her.
“Let me help you with that. I hope your car is around there in the parking lot.”
“It is. Thank you.”
He lifted the container of liquid soap. “Did you think you could carry this?”
“I was hoping that I could.”
“Uh-huh. Come on.”
Kendra’s eyebrows shot up. The man’s attitude was as masculine as his looks and aura. His “come on” was nothing short of a command. She walked with him to the car, not in obedience but in gratitude for not having to carry that heavy load.
“You’re very kind to me, Mr. Maguire.”
“It’s the way I was raised. I’ll ride home with you.”
He made no effort to be ingratiating, she saw, and she appreciated that. It had begun to dawn on her that Reid Maguire knew who he was and didn’t have a need to curry favor or to shine up to anyone. Well, neither did she.
She parked in front of her house, opened the trunk of her car and, unwilling to wait for him to do it, walked around to remove her purchases. When she got to the trunk, Reid Maguire stood beside it with both hands on his hips. She glanced up at him and felt as if she would shrink beneath the assault of his withering stare.
“If you’ll go ahead and open your door, Ms. Ruther ford, I’ll bring these things in for you.”
“Thanks, Mr. Maguire.” She did as he suggested, feeling as if she’d had a parental tongue lashing. She was not used to his kind of man. Besides, she didn’t expect men to do things for her just because she was a woman.
“Where do you keep this?” he asked, referring to the big container of liquid soap.
“In the laundry room, but that’s down in the basement.”
“Ms. Rutherford—”
She held up her hands, palms out. “All right. All right. On that shelf to your left, please.”
He put the soap on the shelf, came back upstairs and headed for the front door without saying anything.
“Mr. Maguire!” She spoke sharply, and he stopped, turned and looked at her with an expression that questioned her impudence. “Sorry, but I wanted to get your attention. Thank you for helping me. You were raised to be gracious. So was I, and I’d appreciate it if you would at least accept a cup of coffee or tea, or a glass of milk, in case you don’t drink tea or coffee.”
He stared at her for nearly a minute, and when a half smile formed around his lips, she nearly grabbed the banister for support. What a mesmerizing man! “Thank you for a cup of coffee. I hope it isn’t instant. I get that at home.”
She took a deep breath, recovered her equilibrium and said, “You’ll smell it in a minute.”
To her surprise, he followed her to the kitchen and took a seat. He pointed to a loose board at the base of the radiator. “Why doesn’t this surprise me?”
“What? Why doesn’t what surprise you?”
“That board hanging loose down there in a brand-new house. This builder is known for his shoddy work. I’ll bet if I went through this house, I’d find a dozen things wrong with it.”
She got two plates, cut two thick slices of chocolate cake, got forks and napkins and put them on the table with the cake. “The coffee will be ready in a minute. What do you know about Brown and Worley?”
“Plenty.”
She put the coffee in front of him. “Would you like milk and sugar?”
“Milk, please.”
Something wasn’t right, and she had to find a way to pry from him the information that he was obviously in no rush to provide.
“Did you buy a house from Brown and Worley?”
“This cake is delicious. Did you make it?”
“Yes, I did. You didn’t answer my question. But if you’d rather not…”
“Brown and Worley built an apartment house that I designed.”
She stopped eating the cake and looked at him. “So you’re an architect. I gather they did a poor job. Tell me what happened.”
“Part of the building collapsed, injuring a number of people. The builders swore in court that they followed my design to the letter and brought numerous witnesses who attested to their competence. One man could not stand up to some of the most exalted building firms in this part of the country, at least two of which were owned by Worley’s cousins. I lost a class-action suit, my home, my wife and every dime I had.”
“Especially not one black man,” she said under her breath, but he heard her.
“That, too.”
“How long ago was that?” she asked him.
“A little over six years.”
“Did you know at the time that the witnesses were Worley’s blood relatives?”
“No, and neither did my lawyer. I discovered it a couple of months ago while surfing the Internet for anything that would help my case.”
“Did you print out what you found?”
“Yeah. Of course I did.”
“Then you can reopen the case, but you have to do it within a year of the date on that printout. You may claim the Discovery Rule, which says you may appeal on the basis of new and relevant information. If you were bankrupt when the statute of limitations applied, you may appeal as soon as you get funds.”
“Thanks. That’s good to know. Mind if I ask how you happen to have this information?”
“I’m a judge.”
His whistle split the air. “Where do you preside?”
“Beginning Monday, I will be the presiding judge at the courthouse up the street. I’m looking forward to it. Would you like some more coffee? I made a full pot.”
“Thanks.” He drank the second cup quickly.
“I expected that, in a town this size, people would be friendlier,” she said and related to him her experience with the store clerk who resented being asked if she lived in Queenstown.
“They’re hospitable, Ms. Rutherford, but you walked into a problem.”
“What do you mean?” she asked him, and at the memory of her neighbor’s comment about the group that marched up to Albemarle Gates, its members beating drums and blowing a bugle and a trumpet, fear seemed to settle in her.
“This building is sitting on sacred Native American burial grounds, and sixty percent of the people in this town and the surrounding areas think you’ve sided with the builders who committed this sacrilege.”
“What will I do? I didn’t know anything about it.”
“Be careful, especially when you’re out at night.”
She sank into her chair, unaccustomed to the feeling of defeat that pervaded her. With a deed and a mortgage, she couldn’t walk away from the house. “Thanks for the warning. I’ve been here barely two weeks, and I’m in trouble. I don’t like the sound of this. Tell me, what do you do now?” she asked him.
“I just got a job with Marks and Connerly, my first job as an architect since that debacle, and I’m lucky to have it. I’d better be going. Thanks for the coffee and cake. Both were delicious.”
She wanted to detain him, but she knew instinctively that it would be the wrong move. Reid Maguire was a loner, and every sentence he uttered seemed to struggle out of him. Grudgingly. “Thanks for the company,” she said as she walked to the door with him, “and for the help.”
He glanced down at her from beneath his thick, curly lashes and smiled with seeming reluctance. “It was my pleasure.”
He left without saying another word. Didn’t he know how to say goodbye, or did he have some kind of superstition about it? Holding a conversation with him was as easy as getting a politician to tell a straightforward, uncoated, denuded truth.
She raised her right shoulder in a limp shrug. Damned if she was going to let him bamboozle her every time he rearranged his face into a provocation for female capitulation. She’d like to meet the woman who walked out on that man. She watched his lilting strut as he crossed the street on his way home. Maybe he wasn’t sex personified, but, to her, he was a tantalizing tidbit. Or, perhaps she’d been working in the boondocks too long. However you sliced it, Reid Maguire looked to her the way upstream salmon looked to a hungry bear.
A judge! Was fate playing games with him, putting him on his honor? If Kendra Rutherford presided in Queenstown, chances were fair that she would hear his case against Brown and Worley, provided he managed to bring it to trial. She hadn’t been reluctant to give him good advice, and he meant to follow it, but the less he saw of her, the better it would be for both of them. He’d spent six long years on Philip Dickerson’s estate, during which time he hadn’t wanted a woman and hadn’t touched one. Before Myrna walked out of his life, he hadn’t been celibate or even considered it since he was thirteen, but his disappointment in Myrna had so embittered him that he couldn’t have made love with a woman if his life had depended on it. Yet, the minute he saw Kendra sprawled out on the ice, relaxed and yielding to her inability to get up, much like a dying man submitting to the inevitable, his libido had returned with a vengeance.
It wouldn’t have concerned him too much—after all, a man wanted to know that he could cut the mustard if he wanted to, but she knew he was there, and she knew it the minute she looked at him. That made the nagging desire that afflicted him when he saw her more difficult to ignore. But he had a long way to go before he could consider tying up with a woman; he meant to clear his name and reestablish himself, both of which could take years. By that time, Kendra Rutherford would have long forgotten that Reid Maguire existed.
He walked into his bedroom, pulled off his jacket and hung it up. He wouldn’t mind having some more of that wonderful coffee she’d made. “Oh, damn. I left my drawing pad in her house. Too bad. It’ll just stay there. I’m not going to give her the impression that I left it as an excuse to go back there. I’ll use some plain bond paper.” He remembered that a former classmate had settled in Caution Point and telephoned him.
“Marcus, this is Reid Maguire.”
“Great guns! How are you, Reid? It’s been years. Are you in town?”
He explained where he was, where he’d been and the reason for his call. “I can’t even begin work, because I know nothing about Caution Point. What kind of place is it?”
“We’re right at the edge of the Albemarle Sound, a sleepy town that looks old. You wouldn’t want to put anything like the Sydney Opera House here. New buildings are usually dark-red brick or cement, and almost none are glass-fronted. Trees everywhere, park benches and wide streets. The tallest building is around eight stories, and we have only a few of those. I’m glad to know you’re back in business, man. When you come here, I’d like you to meet my family.”
“I’ll let you know. Thanks for your help, Marcus.”
He hung up, satisfied that he could acquit himself well. The structure shouldn’t be ultramodern, but neither should it be standard. He decided to produce a design that resembled a huge multi-level private house with a glass-and-cement exterior. Trees would surround its front and sides, and every long walkway would have two-way moving walks with comfortable, built-in seating at strategic stops. He warmed up to the idea, and was still hard at work at two o’clock the following morning.
On Sunday morning, Kendra went to one of the churches nearest to Albemarle Gates, a big, white-brick Baptist church on the corner of Albemarle Heights and Atlantic Avenue. African-Americans made up the bulk of the worshipers, and the smaller fraction consisted of Latinos, Native Americans and a sprinkling of whites. She sat in an aisle seat about midway, and it stunned her that when the collection was taken, the usher moved the basket past her so quickly that she did not have a chance to put in the twenty-dollar bill she held in her hand. When he retrieved the basket, he lifted it above her head, so that she knew his action was deliberate, that he did not want her to contribute. Whoever heard of a Baptist church turning down money?
Still shocked by the usher’s deliberate snub, at the end of the service she attended the coffee hour in the hope of meeting some of the parishioners. However, to her chagrin, no one spoke to her. She left and trudged up the hill, hunched over against the wind that whipped in from the Albemarle, blowing her breath upward to warm her face. Finally, she ran the last few steps to her house.
The phone rang shortly after she entered her house. “This is Kendra Rutherford,” she answered and remembered that she’d better stop identifying herself when she answered the phone, for she was sure to encounter local hostility in the course of her work.
“Hi. This is Claudine. Where were you? I rang you a dozen times.”
“I went to church.”
“See any nice guys?”
“Don’t make jokes. If I had, I doubt they would have spoken to me.” She told her sister about her experience at church. “I won’t be going back there.”
“Maybe they take seriously that biblical passage that reads, ‘Judge not, that ye be not judged.’”
“I wish I thought it. I’ll have to find out what’s behind this. It’s not normal.”
“Sure isn’t normal for a church to reject money. Why don’t you ask one of your neighbors about it?”
“Maybe I will.”
Reid Maguire didn’t care to be friendly, but she wasn’t asking for friendship. Tomorrow morning, she would be a stranger, perhaps an alien, on display among a people who, so far, hadn’t shown her civility, not to speak of graciousness, the only exception being a man who’d come to town two weeks before she did. She needed information, and if he didn’t want to provide it, she was going to give him an opportunity to refuse. She wasn’t timid, and she didn’t know anyone who thought she was.
Kendra put on her storm coat over jeans and a red cashmere sweater and headed across the street. After checking the list of tenants on the board in the mailroom to find the number of his apartment, she walked down the hall to the garden apartment in the back of the building and rang the bell.
The door opened almost at once, and Reid peeped out at her. Both of his eyebrows shot up. Then he opened the door wide and stared at her. “Uh…Hi. What’s up?”
“I know you’re busy, and I know you don’t want to be bothered, Mr. Maguire, but you’re the only person I’ve seen in this town who seems willing to give me the time of day. I’ve been snubbed royally, and before I’m a sitting duck on that bench tomorrow morning, I want to know what’s going on here.”
He stepped back and opened the door a little wider. “Come on in and have a seat.” He showed her to a comfortable and very masculine living room. “If you’ll excuse me a minute, I’ll be right back.”
She glanced at his bare feet and the jeans rolled up to expose his ankles and well-shaped calves, and took a seat. Evidence that he might be less than peerless, and therefore accessible, was not something that she needed. The man was neat, she observed as she looked around, and he had good taste. He’d furnished his apartment well, and without spending a lot of money.
She’d surprised him, and he didn’t try to hide it. Thoughts of what could have run through his mind when he saw her sent the blood rushing to her face. He returned wearing shoes, his jeans had been unrolled and a plaid, long-sleeved shirt had replaced the short-sleeved T-shirt.
“Sorry I can’t offer you coffee, unless you’d settle for instant.”
She disliked instant coffee. “It’s not my favorite, but if you make it strong, it isn’t too bad,” she said, wanting to be gracious.
“I’ll boil some water.” He was back in a few minutes with two mugs of coffee. “If I remember, you drink yours straight. What’s the problem?”
She told him of her experience in church that morning and reminded him of the supermarket clerk’s rudeness.
“I see. Look, Ms. Rutherford. Out here, African-Americans stick with the Native Americans, and you’re the only African-American who’s bought a town house in Albemarle Gates. According to what I’ve learned, there’s been contention about that place from the time Brown and Worley posted a sign stating the intent to build. For the last three years, there’ve been riots, fighting, sabotage, strikes and picketing about that place. The Native Americans went to court, but as usual, they lost. Nobody cares about Indian graves. In fact, this country has a sorry record in dealing with Native Americans. Period.
“It’s too bad you’re stuck in that mess, but I don’t know how you’ll get out of it. Around here, feelings run high about that site, and from what you’ve told me, the locals seem to feel that you’ve taken sides against them.”
“This is quite a pill.”
“It is, but I don’t think you should explain to people that you were unaware of the controversy. Seems to me, they ought to know that.”
“Well, I thank you. Now that I know what I’m up against, I’m really worried. I’d better go before it gets dark.”
“Don’t be afraid. I’ll walk you across the street.”
She leaned toward him. “Succeeding in this post is so important to me, and here I am in the midst of a political battle. I asked for a change, and this is what I get.”
“What were you doing before you came here?”
“There are a lot of little towns and hamlets whose populations aren’t large enough to warrant a full-time judge. I traveled among the small towns and hamlets in two counties, visiting each at least once monthly to try the cases on the docket. As judges go, that’s about the lowest job. After five years, I demanded a change, and this is what I got.
“Reid—I hope you don’t mind if I call you Reid. And please call me Kendra. As I was saying, I didn’t have a life. I had no friends of any kind, because I couldn’t cultivate them. I rarely saw the inside of my apartment for two consecutive days. I decided I deserved better. I came here with arms open, ready to embrace the world and everybody in it, and I got my first dose of rejection.”
He propped his left foot over his right knee. “I can easily imagine that. You seem very young for a judge.”
“I’ll be forty in a couple of days. I’d hoped that my sister would come up to be with me, but she’s preparing for a show, and can’t spare the time.”
“Can’t you go to be with her?”
“It’s a thought. We could at least have dinner together.” Each time she caught him looking directly at her, he shifted his gaze, except when he was talking to her.
“You had five wasted years,” he said. “Oh, I know you can rationalize that as years of learning, but I suspect you didn’t need to learn what you experienced in country courtrooms.”
“Not all of it, or even most of it, but I did learn that there’s something beautiful about simple people who see life and themselves accurately and who don’t shy away from the truth, not even when it reflects adversely upon them.”
“I met a few such individuals working on an estate during the last few years.”
“What did you do at that estate, Reid, if you don’t mind saying?”
“Philip taught me to be a groom. I worked on his farm and in his orchards, but mostly with his horses. I couldn’t have made it back this far, if I hadn’t had refuge on Philip Dickerson’s estate. The man literally saved my life, and then helped me back on my feet. He wanted a dormitory for the men he’d salvaged, so I designed one and supervised its construction. Those guys live in splendor now. Philip gave us bank books and deposited a high percentage of our salary in it weekly. Since we had no expenses, our savings added up quickly because he paid us standard wages. He had rules, but those rules helped to strengthen every one of the twelve men who worked for him.”
“Does he make any profit?”
Reid’s fondness for Philip Dickerson showed in the warmth of his smile. His face radiated pleasure, captivating her. “Absolutely. Every man there would go to the wall for Philip. He treated each of us as if we were his blood brother. He and I became really close. I miss him.”
Reid caught her staring at him, and she glanced away. “I’ve…uh…ruined your Sunday afternoon, Reid. Thanks for being so nice. I’d better go.”
He stood when she did. “You haven’t ruined my afternoon and another thing, Kendra. I’m not all that helpful. I mind my business and stay out of trouble.
“Something tells me that if you want to win a case in this town, you might need some local friends. You never know what’s in the back of a juror’s mind.” He held her coat for her, and she had to resist the urge to move away from him. The man’s aura was getting to her. She’d never shied away from men, but whenever she was close to this one, she got the feeling that she was about to step into a pool of hot quicksand. She turned, buttoning her coat, and he remained there, inches from her. She sucked in her breath and he stepped away from her in a move that said he did not want to become involved.
“Did you see a white plastic bag at your place?” he asked her, as if she had imagined that tense moment.
“About like this?” She held out her hands to suggest a space of about fourteen inches wide.
He nodded. “That could be it.”
“I think I saw it on the kitchen counter.”
He put on his leather jacket and walked out with her. When they reached the curb, a caravan of motorcycle riders approached, and he grabbed her hand, restraining her. “Let’s wait till the last one passes,” he said. “Sometimes they’ll observe this crosswalk, but usually they won’t.”
She prayed in silence, “Please turn loose my hand.” The last motorcycle passed, and he released her hand, as unceremoniously as if he’d never touched it. She had an urge to smack him.
“I’ll get your bag,” she said as they entered the house.
“Thanks. I’ll wait right here.” She brought the bag that obviously contained a tablet of some kind. “Why didn’t you come back for it?”
“I didn’t want to disturb you. Thanks.” He had his hand on the doorknob and a grin on his face when he said, “Good luck tomorrow, Your Honor,” and treated her to a wink. As usual, he didn’t waste his breath saying more, but turned and left.
“I wonder what a full dose of that man’s charisma would be like,” she said aloud, “but I am not anxious to find out.”
Chapter 2
Kendra locked her front door and sat down on the sofa in her living room, contemplating the enigma that was Reid Maguire. He didn’t want an involvement with her, and probably not with anyone else, but if, as she suspected, he hadn’t had a woman in his life for a while, he’d be as tempted as she was. Those were not terms that she cared for.
“I’ve got two problems,” she said aloud, “and I’ll probably solve my relationship with this community before I get Reid Maguire out of my blood.” It didn’t help that he was starting over, as it were, struggling to reach the pinnacle of his profession. That meant that she would empathize with him because, in some respects, she was doing the same. She went up to her bedroom, took a black robe from the closet and examined it. Deciding not to wear a lace collar with it, she chose a white satin open-collared dickey. Her eight-year-old black patent leather boots would have to do because she’d broken a heel on her more presentable ones. Where was that box of jelly beans? She found it in a kitchen drawer, filled a plastic sandwich bag with some of the beans, put them into her briefcase, and considered herself equipped for work. She seldom allowed herself to be without a bag of jelly beans.
She reread the background information that the clerk had sent her on the first case, the suit of a woman who had bought a diamond bracelet over the Internet, had had it appraised and been advised that it was worthless. Unfortunately for the woman, she’d paid heavily for it. Either the buyer or the seller would learn a lesson.
She awakened the next morning after a restful night, got ready for her first day at work, made coffee and her thoughts immediately went to Reid who, she knew, had to settle for a cup of instant. She walked up Albemarle Heights thinking that she was fortunate to have found a house so close to her work, and so her mood was bright and cheerful when she entered the courthouse and showed her badge to the guard. The man nodded, but she wasn’t sure toward which direction.
“Where is chamber 6A?” she asked him, and he pointed to his left with his thumb much as one uses the thumb to hitch a ride.
She could feel her temper rising. “I am the judge in charge of this court,” she told him, “and nobody who works here should be rude to me and expect to keep his or her job. If you’ve got your behind on your shoulder because I bought a house in Albemarle Gates, it tells me how foolish you are. I came here looking for a house, found one and bought it. Neither you nor anybody else in this town put an ad in the paper or a sign near that property advertising your objection to that housing. So show me your best face and tell all of your colleagues to do the same, or this courthouse will have a completely new slate of employees. And soon! Now, where is chamber 6A?”
She had never seen a colder stare. “Yes, ma’am. Right over here, ma’am,” he said and walked with her to the elevator. “Sixth floor, and turn right.”
“That wasn’t difficult, was it?” she said and got on the elevator without waiting for his answer.
Fortunately, her clerk showed better judgment. “Good morning, Judge Rutherford. I’m Carl Running Moon Howard, your clerk. Court begins at ten, unless you’d like the time changed, and ends at three. We have an hour for lunch. Here are the keys to your chambers. How do you like your coffee?”
“Good morning, Carl. I’m delighted to meet you. That’s the warmest greeting I’ve received since I came to Queenstown. I like it black without sugar. Thank you.”
“I know, ma’am. It’s too bad you didn’t know about those burial grounds. It’s gotten to be political, and people are taking sides. I hate this kind of thing, ma’am.”
“So do I, Carl. I saw ads in the papers for the houses, came here and drove throughout the city looking to see what else was available, and that suited me best. I had no way of knowing what that builder had done. I’d give anything if I hadn’t bought there, but I am there, and I’ve put my money in it. So I’m staying.”
“People will soon know what kind of person you are, ma’am. I’ll get you some coffee. Incidentally, the previous judge had a little microwave oven, mini-refrigerator and coffeepot in that little storage room over there. It came in handy I don’t know how many times. Your cases for today are in that black incoming-mail box.”
He brought the coffee, and she studied her morning cases until she’d satisfied herself that she understood them and the hoopla surrounding them. The clerk had included half a dozen newspaper clippings about the cases she would hear that morning.
The jury had already been selected, and the morning session began normally enough, but within the hour, she found it necessary to put the defendant’s attorney in his place.
“Would counsel approach the bench,” she said after he ignored her mild reprimand.
“What may I do for you?” he asked.
Shocked, she quoted to him a section of the law that specified the conditions under which a trial lawyer may be cited for contempt. “I won’t hesitate to do it,” she said. “In fact, I’d enjoy doing it. It’s best not to play with me. Your client’s in bad enough trouble as it is. Do I make myself clear?”
With his face flushed and his lower lip sagging, he said, “I’m sorry, Your Honor. Please accept my apology.”
“I take it you told him what was what,” Carl said to her after she adjourned the court for lunch. “He was the attorney for a builder who tried to get that Albemarle Gates property and failed.”
“How did Brown and Worley get it?”
“They say it was bribery, ma’am, but who knows?”
The lawyer for the plaintiff brought four expert witnesses to prove that the diamonds in the bracelet were, in fact, zircons, and the jury’s guilty verdict did not surprise her. She agreed with it.
She left the court longing to tell Reid how her first day went. But why should he care? She went home, turned up the heat, changed into jeans and a sweater and gave some thought to what she would cook for her dinner. She had never been the object of scorn, and knowing that she was made her want to reach out to someone who cared. Dumping her troubles on her sister didn’t make sense, for Claudine would stagger beneath the burden of it as if the problem were her own.
She scrubbed a potato, dried it, patted it with olive oil, rolled it in a piece of paper towel and put it in the microwave oven. She was staring into the frozen food section of her refrigerator when the telephone rang. Please, God, don’t let that be a harasser.
“Hello.”
“This is Reid. How was your first day?”
“Reid! I wanted to call you…I mean, I wanted to tell you about it.”
“Well, how’d it go?”
“Good and bad.”
“You’re going to explain that?”
Why was she so nervous? “Wait a minute and let me get a chair.” She put the phone down, rushed to the kitchen for a swallow of water, dragged a chair to the console on which the phone rested and sat down. “I’m back. Well, first the guard was rude to me when I walked into the building, but a few choice words subdued him. I have a really nice and competent clerk, a Native American man, who’s gracious and helpful. But I had to put the defendant’s attorney in his place with the threat of contempt. Seems he was the attorney for a builder who tried unsuccessfully to get permission to build on the Albemarle Gates property. Have you heard that Brown and Worley bribed anyone to get that permit?”
“They’ve been accused of it, but the accusation didn’t hold up. I suspect you’ve had all the problems you’re going to have at court—news travels fast. All the same, it pays to watch your back.”
“It’s not a good feeling, Reid, knowing that people don’t like you although you’ve done nothing to earn their dislike. Besides, I’m a people person. I smile at folks, and I expect them to smile back, but nobody’s smiling at me here.”
“Nobody?” She imagined that his eyebrows shot up. “I smiled.”
“Yes, you did.” She settled more comfortably in the chair. “At least once.”
Laughter rumbled out of him, and she wished she could have been with him then to see those lights dancing in his eyes. “If I had another potato,” she said, throwing prudence to the wind, “I’d ask if you wanted to share my supper.”
“What goes with the one you’ve got?”
“Steak burger seasoned with onions, egg, mustard, ketchup and Maggi sauce, fresh asparagus and a mesclun salad.”
“I’ve got an Idaho potato, if that would persuade you to follow through with that idea. And I’m pretty good at cleaning up the kitchen.”
“You wouldn’t consider scrubbing that potato before you bring it over, would you?”
“You bet. Uh…what time would you like to have the potato?”
“About a quarter of seven.”
“Great. By the way, does Her Honor drink wine with her steak burger?”
“Whenever she has it in the house.”
“See you later. And thanks, Kendra.”
She hung up and sat there for some minutes contemplating what she’d just done. For a woman who didn’t want a relationship with the man, she had all but initiated one with that invitation. Oh, I’m not going to exorcise myself about it. He’s not married, and he’s good company. Besides, he’s interested or he wouldn’t have called me. She started down to the basement for some firewood in order to build a fire in the living-room fireplace and stopped. Suppose his case came before her! She shouldn’t develop a relationship with Reid knowing that, if his plan succeeded, he’d have a case before her within the next ten months. Oh, what the heck, I can recuse myself.
She toyed with the idea of changing her clothes to look more respectable, but discarded it. She looked perfectly fine in her jeans and sweater, and if she put on anything sexy, he’d think she was coming on to him, and he’d be right. Still, she combed her hair down, put a pair of medium-sized gold hoops in her ears and set the dining-room table.
Her doorbell rang precisely at a quarter to seven and she wondered if he’d been standing at the door looking at his watch so that he could do that. She opened the door and got a sharply raised eyebrow from him.
“Hi. I’d have whistled, if I hadn’t thought it would be rude. You look…like a pretty teenager.”
“Oh. Thanks. You mean the jeans?”
His expression suggested that she was unreal. “I mean the whole package.” He handed her the potato, scrubbed and unwrapped, and a bag containing a bottle of wine. “I hope you like Ch?teauneuf du Pape.”
“I’m not an aficionado of fine wine, Reid. I go to the liquor store and ask for chardonnay if I want white or Chianti if I want red, so I’ll look forward to this one.”
“It’s smooth. I think of it as a red that suits a lady.”
“That’s the second nice compliment you’ve given me in the ten minutes you’ve been here. After the bashing my ego’s had in this town, I needed it. Now, come on in the kitchen with me and behave yourself.”
“Whatta you mean by that?”
“I mean if you keep saying such nice things, you’ll have me in such a stupor that you won’t get any dinner.”
“Now, you behave. Where do you want this potato?” She held out her hand. “Whoops!” she said when she felt the electric static that passed between them.
He stared at her, and she turned away, went to the counter and began greasing the potato with olive oil. She’d made an enormous mistake, and she had to spend the evening with it.
“What are you doing to that potato?” His voice was too close, so close that she didn’t dare turn to the left or to the right. Dear God, please don’t let him touch me.
“Just what it looks like. Here. Wrap it in a piece of paper towel and put it in that microwave oven.”
“Where’s the paper towel?”
“It’s…Oh, I don’t know.”
“Turn around here.” His hands gripped her shoulders, but they turned her gently. “Come here.”
His grayish-brown eyes had become thunderheads heralding what she knew would be a violent storm. She didn’t know what he saw in her eyes, but at that moment she wanted him. He pulled her close and lowered his head so slowly that she reached up and with her hand at his nape, guided his mouth to hers. His lips trembled as they crushed hers. His groans sent shivers throughout her body, sending her blood rushing to her vagina, exciting her, and when he rimmed the seam of her lips with his tongue, she opened her mouth and sucked him into her, pulling on him, sucking and feasting. Her nerve ends seemed afire. If only she could crawl into him. The heat in her vagina rose with the seconds, and something akin to an itch demanded friction. Oh, how she wanted him skin to skin, his chest to her breasts, and his penis buried deep inside her. She pulled his tongue and sucked it vigorously until he suddenly pushed her away.
As if he feared that he may have hurt her feelings, he brought her back to his embrace, but didn’t let his body touch hers. “I’ve been celibate for a long time, Kendra, and if anything ever happens between you and me, I want to be sure of the reason.”
She wanted to tell him that nothing would happen between them, but after what she’d felt seconds earlier in his arms, she didn’t believe it and she didn’t feel like lying.
Instead she said, “I could say the same, Reid. Take care of that potato for me, will you?” He didn’t move, so she glanced at him.
“Have I…Are you…Is everything all right with you and me?” he asked her.
She faced him. “Yes. You’re straight with me. Now we know where we stand.”
He didn’t bat an eyelash. “We always knew, Kendra. Now we have to deal with it. Is that blue thing the microwave oven?”
She couldn’t help laughing. He’d put demon desire in its proper place and expected that she would do the same. “Yes, that’s it, and I’d be happy if it was any other color.” Their simultaneous laughter cleared the air.
“You could grow on me,” he said, and turned the kitchen chair around and straddled it.
“What does that mean?”
“Come now, Kendra.”
“Reid, talking with you is like taking a true and false test. You don’t explain anything unless I pull it out of you.”
“When I was in my twenties, I didn’t appreciate your type of woman. Accomplished, cut and dried. What you see is what you get, and if you don’t like it, keep moving. You’re as straight as the crow flies and beautiful to boot.”
“And I assume that means you like women who are honest.”
A smile formed around his eyes, and she looked the other way. Did that man know how attractive he was? “Right. And beautiful. Don’t leave that out,” he said.
She liked his sense of humor, and she was beginning to like him. “How do you like your burger? Medium or well done?”
“Well done. May I watch you mix it up?”
She agreed, and he stood beside her while she added the eggs, onions and seasoning to the ground beef, made three large patties, put a small amount of oil in the frying pan and set the meat to cooking. “That’s reasonable,” he said. “You put in them what we usually put on them after they’re cooked.” She turned on the microwave oven, raised the steam level under the asparagus, took the bowl of salad out of the refrigerator and put it on the table.
“That didn’t take long, and you got everything ready at the same time. That’s a trick.”
“I did the work before you got here, but took about fifteen minutes.”
“Say, wait a minute,” he said. “Don’t put that food in serving dishes. I can serve myself right from the pots and pans. Remember, I’m the one who’s cleaning up.”
“But—”
“But nothing. If I’m cleaning up, what I say goes.”
She handed him a plate. “Two of those burgers are yours. I can only eat one. I’ll peel the potatoes.”
“You can peel yours. I eat the skin. All I need for this potato is some butter and black pepper.”
“Butter is not good for you,” she said, “so you’re getting a substitute that tastes like butter and has no trans fats.”
The expression on his face was that of one thwarted in the course of a satisfying act. “But—”
“But, as your hostess, I have the responsibility to protect your arteries, and that’s what I intend to do.”
He filled his plate and headed for the dining room. “I don’t suppose I can argue with that. What did you do with the wine?”
It dawned on her that he behaved almost as if they had known each other for a long time, and save for the minutes she’d spent in his arms, she felt about the same. Or maybe he didn’t put on airs. After she said grace, he opened the wine, tasted it and poured half a glass for her. “I hope you like it. Say, why don’t we drink to…” He got up and walked over to her, hooked his right arm through hers and said, “Let’s drink to us. What will be, will be.” He sipped the wine as he gazed into her eyes. “You like it?”
“What?” she asked him, thoroughly discombobulated. “Oh, you mean the wine. Stop knocking me off balance. I never did that before. I love this wine.”
He returned to his seat and his meal. “This is the first wine I’ve purchased in almost seven years. Philip always provided wine for the help on weekends, but not during the week. He didn’t allow any alcohol on the estate except in his house, and I soon got out of the habit of washing my dinner down with the best wine I could find.”
“I’m learning that you were very wealthy.”
“I was, and if I ever get back there, I’m going to live differently. I’m going to keep the friends I’ve made during the last six years, people who care about me, not people who loved what I could do for them.”
“Did any of them stick with you?”
“Naah. It’s like Billie Holiday said in that song. ‘Money, you got lots of friends hanging ’round your door, but when the spending ends, they don’t come ’round no more.’”
“I’ve never had a lot of it,” she said, “so I don’t know, but I’m not surprised.”
“This is the best burger I ever ate, and I love burgers. Kendra, this is a wonderful meal right down to my butterless potato.” Her head went up sharply. “Just kidding.”
“The dessert is simple,” she said when she brought the sliced strawberries that had been marinating in a mixture of raspberry jam and cognac. “If I’d made this last night, it would be better, but I did it after we talked this afternoon.”
He tasted it. “It’s delicious. Sit down and eat yours.” He was good at giving commands, a habit that he would have to unlearn if they were to be friends.
“I told you about my first day on the job, Reid. How was yours?”
“Thank you for asking. It went smoothly, without a wrinkle. I got my supplies, a company credit card, a key to one of the company station wagons and, most of all, a key to an office one place removed from the senior partner. I know that last part doesn’t mean much, but eventually it will. I’m satisfied, so far.”
“Does the management know your story?”
“Yeah. They know about the trial and who I was before that, and I’m glad they do. It’s all in the open.”
She reached over, patted his hand and immediately wished she hadn’t done it, for the static electricity shot through her again. With a grudging smile, he trans formed his face into the picture of sweetness. “Wondering what it would be like if we really touch has begun to boggle my mind,” he said.
She wasn’t about to comment on that. “I wonder if I can get away with walking down to the water,” she asked him, as if he hadn’t alluded to the possibility of their making love. “I haven’t done that yet, and I love the water.”
He seemed pensive for a moment. “Ordinarily, I’d say, why not? But all things considered…Look. I’ll walk down there with you Saturday morning. It’s very lonely, and you hardly ever meet anyone, so…”
“Okay. Will we go before or after I do my marketing?”
“After. It’s cold out there early mornings. Let’s say…about eleven.”
She looked at him while he savored the dessert with obvious relish, and her gaze focused on his long and tapered fingers, smooth hands that seemed so strong when they held her. “Do you play the piano or any other string instrument, Reid?”
“Piano and guitar. How’d you happen to ask?”
“Your hands are perfect for both. Nice hands.”
“Thanks.”
He stopped eating and gazed at her until she said, “Would you like some more?”
“I don’t have any more space, or I’d love more. It was delightful.” He still looked at her as if he wanted to find something in her, something that he hoped was hidden there.
“You make it very comfortable for a man, and you do it without trying. Thanks for the dinner.” He leaned back in his chair and focused upon her so intently that she squirmed. And he realized it because he said, “I’m sorry. I’d better go. See you Saturday morning at eleven.” He wrote something on the label of the wine bottle and said, “Call if I can be of help.”
He stood, patted his pockets for his keys and, as if he suddenly remembered, took the dessert dishes to the kitchen, and was soon heard moving around there and whistling as if he were at home. He didn’t ask for help or information, and she didn’t offer any. It appeared that an architect followed some logic in the kitchen and the arrangement of its contents, and well that was, because she didn’t dare go in there. Both of them were sitting on kegs of sexual dynamite, starved for affection.
He came back in about twenty minutes. “It’s good as new. See you Saturday.” As usual, he left without saying goodbye, and one day she would ask him why.
Talking about quicksand, Reid said to himself as he raced across Albemarle Heights. He knew himself and he knew that if he touched her, he’d want it all. She thought she was dressing down when she put on those jeans, but in them, she was sex personified. She hadn’t wanted to give him the wrong impression, but he couldn’t change what happened to him when he first saw her.
She’s between me and what Brown and Worley owe me. If their attorney learns that she and I are friends or even close acquaintances, I’ll lose that case before it starts. I think I’d better make myself useful around here and get the people of Queenstown on my side. Kendra’s right, because this is the jury pool.
Who would call him at nine o’clock at night? Certainly it couldn’t be Kendra. He didn’t know what he would do if she even hinted that she wanted him to go back there. He shrugged and rushed to the phone. She wouldn’t do it. The woman had strength as well as guts.
“Maguire speaking. Good evening.”
“Hey, Reid. This is Philip. How’s it going?”
“Philip!” He sat down in the nearest chair. “It’s great to hear from you. How’s your dad?”
“Dad’s fine. We’re anxious to know how it’s going with Marks and Connerly.”
“So far, so good.” He gave Philip the same information that he had given Kendra a little earlier. “It’s a chance. I’ll see the location for the airport terminal tomorrow and adjust my sketches accordingly. I like what I’ve seen of Jack, and I think we’ll get along.”
“You don’t know how much it pleases me to hear that. Do you think you can come down to the barbecue Easter Sunday? If so, we’ll be glad to see you. I’ll let them all know I’ve spoken with you.”
Reid hung up, gathered his laundry and put it in his laundry bag. He would drop it off at Royal Laundry—half the establishments in Queenstown had either royal or crown as a part of their name. He’d wash his socks, but he would gladly pay someone else to do the rest of it.
He got up early the next morning, made a cup of instant coffee, showered, shaved and dressed in an Oxford-gray business suit. How good it felt to be going to work as an architect again. If he wasn’t careful, he’d feel tears sliding down his face. He got into the station wagon, adjusted the seat to fit his height and headed for Caution Point. He’d driven twenty miles before the pangs in his belly reminded him that he hadn’t ingested anything that morning but instant coffee.
He pulled into a roadside restaurant, had a breakfast of melon, waffles, country sausage and perked coffee, and continued his journey. Remembering that he’d promised Marcus Hickson to get in touch with him when he went to Caution Point, he took out the cellular phone that he had bought the previous weekend and telephoned his old friend.
“Hello, Marcus, this is Reid. I’ll be in town today. Could we meet for lunch?”
“Yes, indeed. You don’t know Caution Point, so why don’t I pick you up at twelve-thirty? Where will you be?”
“At the corner of Bowder and Checkers.”
“Great. I’m driving a silver-gray Mercedes.”
“And I’ll be in a brown Cadillac station wagon. See you then.”
A gray Mercedes, eh? He hoped his friend hadn’t turned into a “rich man,” because he’d sworn to keep his feet on the ground and to associate only with people like himself. He remembered that women loved Marcus, but that Marcus had his eye on a tall lanky one who, in his opinion, was the epitome of frivolity. Well,we both had lousy taste in women. I sure hope he got over that one.
He loved the location for the terminal. With a minor adjustment, the terminal he’d sketched with a round dome above a square building would best fit the space and the environment. He sat in the office that Jack Marks had rented for him, and altered the sketch. Then, in case Jack preferred the structure that resembled a large private house or mansion, he made notes as to the necessary alterations, locked the office and went to meet Marcus.
When the big gray sedan drove up, Reid got out of his station wagon and walked across the street to meet the man he hadn’t seen since he left graduate school. He’d been in the School of Architecture and Engineering, and Marcus had been in the School of Music. They’d roomed two doors from each other in the men’s dormitory. He smiled when Marcus started toward him, and the years quickly vanished as they laid up high fives and then embraced each other, their old routine.
“You haven’t gained a pound, man,” Marcus said, “but I’ve put on sixteen.”
“Sixteen pounds is nothing on a six-foot-four-inch frame. If you’d lived my life—at least my life the last seven years—you wouldn’t weigh more, either. Where’ll we eat?”
“I assume you’re going to explain that, but if I remember properly, I’ll find out what it means only after I pry and insist.”
“Oh, I’m not that bad. Did you marry that tall, slim beauty?”
“Yes, but she split when the going got tough. I’ve got a real gem of a woman now, and she is definitely not the willowy type.”
They ate at a new Italian restaurant not far from the school where Marcus’s wife, Amanda, was the principal. “You learned a lesson,” Reid said when the conversation turned again to their pasts, “and I sure hope the hell I did.” He told Marcus about the loss of his company, his wealth and his reputation, how he’d made it back to where he was.
“I feel you, man,” Marcus said. “I came within a hair of losing my business, and if it hadn’t been for my wife, I would have. Next time you’re here, I want you to meet her and my three children. The oldest one is from my first wife, but if you see her with my wife, you’d never know it. I’m a lucky man.”
“I’m on my way back, man,” Reid said, “and it’s a great feeling.”
“Take it slow,” Marcus advised. “Be patient. If you find a good woman, latch on. She’ll make all the difference. Say, what’s wrong with me? I’m sitting here talking with a first-rate architect. Reid, I told you that I repair fine musical instruments, string instruments, and that my factory is in Portsmouth. I’m planning to open a factory here in Caution Point, and eventually—maybe two or three years hence—I’ll close the one in Portsmouth. I repair anything from a Steinway concert grand to a Stradivarius. Would you design a building for me? The place has to be humidity proof.”
“I work for Marks and Connerly, and I’m not sure you’d want to pay their fare. I’m also not sure they’d let me do it on the side. I’m straight, Marcus, so I’d have to ask. I can tell the boss of our relationship and see if that will make a difference.”
“Not being able to make your own decisions must go against your grain,” Marcus said.
“Not right now, because I know I’m lucky to be working for a company of this caliber. If I’m fortunate, I’ll be back on top and running my own company in a couple of years.” He showed Marcus his sketches for the airport terminal.
“Either one of these would work there, but I especially like this one,” Marcus said, pointing to the one with the round dome. “It’s unique and fits the area.”
“Thanks. That’s the one I prefer, but it’s a long road from this point to the laying of the corner stone.”
“I’m sure. When will you let me know whether you can design that building for me?”
“Next Monday, I hope. See you then.”
When they separated, Reid had the feeling that he was on his way. He didn’t go back to the airport, but took the shortest route to Queenstown. He parked the station wagon in the company’s parking lot, locked it and went to his office.
“You’re back?” Jack Marks asked him when he answered the intercom. “Are you satisfied? I’m not asking for a report, but I’m anxious to know whether you’re comfortable with what you’ve done so far.”
“I am, indeed,” Reid said. “I need to make a couple of very minor changes. We can meet tomorrow, if you’d like.”
“You bet I’d like. How about lunch? Is twelve-thirty good?”
“Fine,” Reid said. “That’s my preferred lunchtime.”
“I’ll stop by for you,” Jack told him.
It would be a memorable lunch. “I love this one,” Jack said referring to the one with the round dome. “It’s perfect. Maybe we can use this other one for something else. It’s very imaginative.” He snapped his fingers. “It would make a great golf clubhouse. Put it under lock and key. If I can close a deal I’m working on, you’ve got another job.”
Reid told Jack about Marcus’s request. “I told him that I wouldn’t do it on the side without your permission and that if you didn’t like that idea, I’d ask if we could lower the price for him.”
Jack’s thick fingers brushed back and forth across his chin. “It doesn’t seem to be a huge job, does it?”
“The biggest problem will be to control the humidity. It’s close to the Sound.”
“Right. There’re some materials you can install in addition to air conditioning. Tomorrow, I’ll write you a letter giving permission. I don’t have time today.”
“Are you sure it’s all right, Jack?”
“It isn’t something we would normally do, and I want to encourage you to tackle unusual jobs. It’s good experience. By the way, Connerly and I have decided to change your title from assistant architect to architect. It makes more sense.”
“Does it carry more pay?”
“Sure. A lot more. I’ll ask the accountant to send you a note, and you’ll get a personnel action sheet in a day or so.”
Reid thanked him. He didn’t do it profusely, knew he deserved the title and pay. Nonetheless, he had a better feeling of his worth as an architect and as a man. “You’re a straight shooter, Jack, and I appreciate that.”
“It’s only just, Reid.”
Reid thought for a minute, then changing to a light subject he said, “If I’m going to live here, I want to be a part of the community, but I can’t seem to find a niche.”
“We have a great theatrical group that’s extremely popular. Ever do any acting?”
“Not since undergraduate school.”
“They’re all amateurs. I’ll tell Iris to give you the address and telephone number. This has been a productive lunch, Reid. Let’s do it again real soon. Oh, and what we’ve discussed here is between you, me and Connerly. My architects do everything to get an assignment, except fight duels.”
“You bet.” He pointed his right thumb to his chest. “What happens here stays here.”
He didn’t know how he got through the remainder of the afternoon, for it seemed that he would burst with happiness. At a quarter to four, a messenger brought him a letter from the company accountant. He tore it open and stared at its message until the words blurred before his eyes. That promotion nearly doubled his salary. After his first month’s pay, he’d have the means to retain a lawyer, and he’d soon be able to buy a car.
All the wonderful things that happened to me today, and I don’t have anyone with whom to share it, he thought as he walked home. But he could share it with Kendra, couldn’t he? Doing so wouldn’t imply anything. After all, hadn’t she shared her news with him?
What the heck! It was too good to keep to himself. He walked into his apartment, kicked off his shoes and pants, loosened his tie, dropped himself on his bed and used his cell phone to dial her number.
“Hi, this is Reid. So much has happened today that I have to dump it on somebody, and I don’t know anybody here but you.”
At the next words in her low, sultry voice, he nearly jumped off the bed. “Hi. Hang up, Reid. Then call me and say, ‘You wouldn’t believe the day I had. Can we get together so I can tell you about it?’”
He lay back down and stretched out. “What’s wrong with the way I put it?”
“You said it as if you’d tell somebody else, but you don’t know anyone else in town.”
“Well, that definitely is not what I meant.”
“So, what did you mean?”
He sat up. “Don’t ask me a question unless you want the answer. I want to see you.”
“Uh…where?”
“In the middle of Albemarle Heights. I don’t give a damn, Kendra. I’ll put on a jacket and tie, and we can have dinner someplace, but that would be three whole hours from now.”
“Well, since you haven’t bought a car, let’s ride in mine. I’ll put on a pretty dress, you put on that tie, and you be over here in an hour. How’s that?”
“Woman, you move fast, but that suits me to a T. I’ll be there.” He’d almost added that he wanted a kiss when he got there, and it surprised him that that was what he needed from her most of all. He wanted her to rejoice with him, but what he needed was to know that she thought him worth her affection.
He showered, dressed in the Oxford-gray suit with a white shirt and yellow tie. He put on his gray Chesterfield-style overcoat, a remainder from his affluent days, and gave thanks that, in his lowest moments, he hadn’t sold it or exchanged it for a hot dog. He’d been wearing it when he’d met Philip. A glance at his watch told him he had thirty-two minutes. He made it to the florist in eleven minutes and cooled his heels while the florist chatted with a neighbor. Vexed, though he knew it was the way of life in a small town, he turned to leave, and the man asked if he could help him. He bought an American beauty rose, had it wrapped in cellophane and tied with a red velvet bow.
He felt like a teenager about to take his girl to his first prom. What had happened to his resolve to stay away from her, his concern that associating with her might jeopardize his case against Brown and Worley? I can’t help it, he said to himself. Right now, I need to be with her.
If Reid was able to rationalize his way out of his dilemma about Kendra, she had no such success, but admitted her strong attraction to him and the trouble in which it would one day land her, and figured that she would have no choice but to take it on the chin when it came. She hoped he’d be worth the price she had to pay.
She looked through her closet and pushed aside the sedate business suits and tailored dresses she wore to work until she found the red silk sheath that fit snugly until it passed her hips and then flared out sassy and flirtatious. Its low-cut bodice promised a delicious tidbit if she let him get that far. She looked at herself in the mirror and frowned. What was she thinking when she bought that advertisement for sex? No wonder she’d never worn it.
What the heck? He wants me, and I want him. Might as well be an adult about it. She combed out her hair and brushed it until it curved under at her shoulder, put on a pair of gold hoops, dabbed perfume in strategic places and took a deep breath. Did she dare wear those spike-heel sandals in weather that was below freezing? And could she drive while wearing them? I can kick off the right one, she said to herself and slipped her feet into the shoes just as the doorbell rang.
She opened the door and, to her delight, his eyes lit up and his long, sharp whistle made her heart sing. He stepped inside, closed the door with his foot, and she’d never seen a happier look on a man’s face than when he gazed down at her. She felt her tongue rim her lips, and then his big hands were on her seconds before he lowered his head and she rose on her toes to meet his mouth. He came down hard on her, but she didn’t care because she felt his need of her.
“Open up to me, sweetheart. Let me feel myself inside you.”
She parted her lips, took him into her mouth and as he began to dance and twirl inside her, one of his hands moved down to her hips and the other locked around her bare shoulders. Oh, the feel of his hands on her naked flesh. She sucked him deeper into her mouth, holding him, caressing him while her nerves began to riot and the blood sizzled in her veins as it raced to her vagina. She heard her moans, but didn’t care. She wanted him as she’d never wanted anything in her life.
He stopped kissing her and looked down at her. “Sweetheart, if we don’t cut this out, we’ll never get anything to eat.”
Frustrated and not bothering to hide it, she poked his chest. “You shouldn’t have started it. I opened the door, and you didn’t even say hi, just like you never bother to say goodbye to me.” His grin settled around his eyes, and it was all she could do to stop herself from putting her arms around him and hugging him. “Would you mind driving? I don’t think I should unless I take off these shoes.”
He looked down at her feet. “No wonder you seem taller. I’ll drive.”
When he handed her a red rose, she kissed his cheek. “You’re such a sweet man,” she said and turned away, intending to get a vase and water for the rose, but he grabbed her arm.
“Do you think I’m sweet, or were you making small talk?”
“Yes, I think you’re sweet, Reid, and I’d…We’d better leave it at that.”
Chapter 3
“You haven’t asked where we’re going,” Reid said as they headed out of Queenstown. “Aren’t you concerned?”
“Not really. As long as I can eat when I get hungry, I’ll be happy. Besides, a really sweet man will do whatever he can to make me comfortable.”
“Let’s see. You told me that you’re almost forty. Haven’t you ever misplaced your trust?”
“I did once, and thereafter I protected myself, but while I was protecting myself, life passed me by. Do you get my drift?”
“Yeah. Are you saying you’re willing to take a chance with me?”
“If you want the truth, Reid, I have not let myself face that question. In fact, I have skated all around it, and very skillfully, I might say.”
“That’s two of us. There’re a lot of reasons why we should avoid each other, and you know all of them. But that’s what I think when I’m being logical. The rest of the time, I want what you gave me when I walked into your house this evening.” He drove into a roadside restaurant, parked and turned to her. “I want that and more, and I know that wanting you has nothing to do with the number of women I’m acquainted with in Queenstown. I would want you if I lived in Baltimore, where I know a slew of people, male and female, or for that matter, if I lived in Paris.”
This man was telling her that she should take him seriously; that he wanted her and was bold enough to go after what he wanted. Taken aback by his bluntness, she stammered, “Oh…I think you’re ahead of me.”
“And if I did what I want to do right now, I’d take you in my arms and kiss you until I’m drunker off you than I was forty minutes ago.”
She wanted him as badly as he wanted her, but she didn’t want that to be the basis of their relationship and she decided to tell him so. “Do you think you can slow down, Reid? I confess that I want you, but I am not going to allow that to be the basis of a relationship with you. I need more. I need friendship, companionship and…and…okay, I’ll say it…and love. I need caring and affection, and I’m dying to give all that in return. I want to make love with you in the worst way, but I’ve learned how to deny myself, so…let’s go eat.”
He gazed at her until she began to wonder at his mood. Suddenly, he said, “I’ll buy that.” His face transformed itself into a smile, and she wondered whether she’d be able to handle him if she ever needed to. He held her hand as they walked into the restaurant, a large but cozy room with hanging chandeliers, upholstered chairs, tables spaced far apart and the sound of soft, easy-listening music flowing around them.
“It’s beautiful, Reid. How did you find it?”
“I saw it when I drove to Caution Point this morning and noticed that it was used for wedding parties, so I figured it would be nice. I called and made a reservation.”
“Yes, it’s beautiful,” she repeated, “and so are you. You clean up real good, as they say.”
His smile told her that he appreciated her compliment, but he added, “Thank you, Kendra. I’m beginning to feel like my old self, but when I look at you, knowing who and what you are, I’m humbled. You are so beautiful. I love you in that dress.”
She nearly lost her breath, although she knew there had to be more to that sentence. The ma?tre d’ seated them in a corner near a fireplace, one of several in the room. The place was bound to be expensive, but she didn’t intend to insult him by suggesting that they split the bill. She ordered white wine, and he asked for a wine and club soda spritzer. “I’m driving,” he told the sommelier when the man looked at him disparagingly.
A waiter took their order, and she noted the frown on Reid’s face when the man allowed his gaze to linger on her cleavage.
Reid raised his glass. “Here’s to the loveliest of women.”
“And here’s to the nicest, sweetest man I know.”
“Okay,” he said. “I won’t push you. You don’t have to say anything about my…er…charm and—”
“Then, I won’t. Did you rent a car today?”
“My boss let me use a company car.” He leaned forward. “Kendra, I have so much to tell you. The day got better by the hour.” He told her about his visit with Marcus, of Marcus’s request that he design a building for him, about his boss’s agreement allowing him to do it.
“Kendra, Jack invited me to lunch. He loved the sketch I did for the airport terminal in Caution Point, and another one that he thinks he can use for a deal he’s trying to make. But, Kendra, even before he saw my ideas for that airport terminal, he and Connerly, the junior partner, had decided to raise me from assistant to full architect with double the pay. Do you—”
She interrupted him. “I think I’m going to cry. I—”
“Cry? Why, for heaven’s sake?”
“I’m so happy for you. I…I’m…excuse me.” She stumbled from the table and rushed to the women’s room, where the tears flowed. Now maybe there was a chance for them. He would be his own man, the company recognized his value and he didn’t have to look up to anyone. She patted cold water on her face, dried it with a paper towel, buffed her skin and headed back to the table.
The ma?tre d’ intercepted her. “Is Madame all right?”
“Yes, indeed,” she said, and looked up and saw that Reid stood by the table waiting for her. If she had been at home, she suspected that she would have run to him, but she remembered who and where she was, controlled the urge and let her smile communicate to him her feelings.
He walked to meet her. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Reid. Forgive me for letting it get out of control.”
He assisted her in sitting down and walked around to his own chair. “I’m glad you’re fine, but I need to know what happened.”
She took a deep breath. “Not since I met you have I seen you so…so full of…of hope, so happy, just bursting with joie de vivre. Seeing you that way, almost watching years fall away from you. I couldn’t help it. I’m so happy for you. It’s the first time I’ve ever cried because I was happy.”
“You were crying for me?” He reached across the table and grasped her hand. She didn’t answer him. Something was happening between them, and neither of them would be able to alter its course. He repeated the question.
“Yes. Silly, aren’t I?”
His gaze—fiery, turbulent—bored into her, refusing to release her, and she couldn’t glance away. “I guarantee you that if I had you alone and in a private place right now, I would make love with you, and I wouldn’t stop until you were mine.”
“Could I…may I have some more wine, please?”
“Of course you may. I see you haven’t disagreed with me. We’re going to be lovers, Kendra. Maybe not soon, but you can bet on it.”
“I’ve never had a man talk like this to me, so I don’t know what to say to you right now.”
“You haven’t told me that I’m out of line. Am I?”
“I don’t…no. You aren’t out of line, but it’s best you don’t push me. I can get stubborn, even against myself.”
A smile lit up his face, and it seemed as if a spotlight shone on him. He squeezed her fingers. “I won’t push you. I’m a patient man, or at least I have been in the past. I hope I’ll be able to boast of my patience six months from now. Something tells me I’ve never been tested.”
She leaned back in her chair and looked at him. “When we met, I had trouble getting you to utter a sentence that had more than six words. Now you’re very expressive. You talk to me. I like the change. Now if I can just get you to tell me goodbye when you leave me.”
“That day probably won’t come, Kendra. My mother was the last person to whom I used those two words. She’s been gone since I was sixteen.”
She turned over her hand so that her palm caressed his. “I’m so sorry, Reid. Who raised you after that? I mean, who saw you through school?”
“My dad. He’s gone now. It happened while I was fighting that class action suit.”
She’d like to know what it was about the man that got to her so thoroughly. I’m not in love with him, so what is it?
“Would Madame care for dessert?” the waiter asked. “Our dessert chef is world famous, sir,” he said to Reid, who ordered a floating island.
“I’ll have raspberry and peach sorbet,” she said, pleased with herself for having resisted the sour lime pie.
“If we were in Baltimore,” Reid said as they left the restaurant, “I would take you dancing. I don’t know any nice place around here, and that’s a pity. You look so lovely that I don’t want to take you home yet.”
“There’ll be other nights, Reid. At least, I hope so.”
“And there will be, if I have my way. Say, do you have a regional map in the glove compartment?” She opened it and removed an AAA map. He took her hand, walked over to the light and examined the map.
“We can be in Elizabeth City in twenty minutes to half an hour at only moderate speed. What do you say?”
She loved to dance; imagined dancing with him. “I’m for it.”
Half a mile down the highway, he filled up the gas tank, got back into the car and drove off singing, “God Didn’t Make Little Green Apples.”
“Can you cook?” she asked him, though she didn’t know why the thought had occurred.
“I’m a pretty good cook. I like to eat, so I taught myself to cook. Cooking is a special kind of chemistry,” he said, warming up to the subject. “It’s a matter of putting together the right flavors and avoiding combinations that will blow up in your face. Right?”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way, but that’s close enough. Did you like chemistry in school?”
“I tolerated it. I loved physics.”
They talked of their likes and dislikes in music, art, dance, literature and hobbies, and they shared their dreams. By the time they reached Elizabeth City, nearly an hour had elapsed, but neither noticed. He drove into a gas station and asked the attendant if he knew where a man could take a lady dancing.
“This lady is a judge,” he told the man, “so it has to be a clean and classy place.” He held a ten-dollar bill in his hand where the attendant could see it.
The guy peeped in the car. “Man, she don’t look like no judge to me. Uh, sorry, sir. No problem, sir. Check out the Skylight Roof on top of the Wright Hotel. You won’t find any riffraff there. Go straight till you get to a circle, turn left, drive four blocks. You’ll be there.”
She laid her left hand on his forearm. “Thanks for thinking of the quality of the place, Reid. It’s been so long since I went anywhere special that I didn’t think of it.”
“When you’re with me, Kendra, I’ll do everything I can to take care of you, and I know you’d do the same for me.”
When they reached the hotel, Reid said to the doorman, “Do you have a band tonight?”
“Yes, sir. Every night, sir.”
He looked the man in the eye. “My date is a judge. Is it all right for me to take her in there?”
“Yes, sir. We cater to only the most discriminating guests.”
She loved the room. Pink chandeliers cast a soft glow over the white tables, each of which held three white calla lilies in a slender vase. “I don’t want anything to drink,” he said, “but I’ll order something for you if you’d like.”
“Thanks. I’d like a ginger ale on crushed ice.”
“I think I’ll have the same,” he said and beckoned for the waiter.
“What kind of music do you prefer to dance to?” he asked her.
“I love jazz saxophone, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll enjoy it no matter what they play.”
Why was he looking at her that way? She wished she knew him well enough to read him. The band leader announced a fox-trot, and Reid stood. Just before his arms went around her, he kissed her with his eyes, warmed her with his repressed desire and a riot of sensation sent tremors throughout her body.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I’m already drowning in your aura, so don’t pour it on too heavily.”
He was drowning? “If we get into trouble, we’ll save each other.”
He missed a step. “Honesty and straightforwardness are among the things I like about you, but I’d appreciate it if you would choose your times to be candid.”
The piece ended, and the orchestra leader announced “Solitude,” a Duke Ellington song from the 1930s. She moved into him then. She couldn’t help it, for the alto saxophone moaned and cried, haunting, harnessing the blues for posterity. She gripped his shoulders and swung to his rhythm as if she had danced with him from the moment of her birth. Soon, she didn’t hear the orchestra, only the music of his body moving with hers. When at last the music stopped, she looked up at him.
“If I didn’t know better,” he said, “I’d swear we’ve danced together for years. It’s uncanny. I’ve known you a little over a month, and I feel as if I’ve known you for years and years.”
“Seems that way to me, too. I think we ought to start back. It’ll be after midnight when we get home.”
They didn’t talk on the way home. Normally, she loved silence, because it allowed her to think. But not this mocking quiet, so intense that it spoke with the power of thunder. At last, they reached her house, and he parked and handed her the keys.
“I want to spend the night with you, Kendra, but I know this isn’t the time. My body feels as if it’s in a prison, locked behind bars and rearing to get out, but in a way, it’s a good feeling. I’m alive, and I couldn’t have said that before I met you. Come on, I’ll see you into your house.”
“Wait here,” he said when they entered her foyer, issuing orders as usual. “I’ll take a look around.” As if she didn’t walk into that house alone almost every time she entered it. He came back to her. “All clear. I’ll see you tomorrow at eleven, and we’ll walk down to the Sound, that is if you still want to.”
“I want to. I had a wonderful time tonight, Reid, and I…Thanks for sharing your good news with me.”
“Being able to tell you about it means more to me than you can imagine. See you in the morning.”
“Wait a minute here,” she said. “You give me an evening like this one and you aren’t going to kiss me goodnight? Not even a peck on the cheek?”
He stared down at her until she wondered if she should have kept the thought to herself. “You want me to kiss you?” he said.
She didn’t plan it, but her fingers worked at the buttons on her coat, releasing them one by one. “Yes.” It came out as a whisper.
His hands slid beneath her coat, bringing her body to his, and his mouth came down on hers, fierce and hungry. His ravenous lips and his hands on her body, more possessive now and more familiar, sent darts zinging through her. But as quickly, he softened the kiss, and she parted her lips, shamelessly asking for more of him. He stopped kissing her and hugged her to him as if she were precious.
“Something happened to us back there in that restaurant, Kendra, and if I don’t get out of here, I’ll louse it up.”
She stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. “I don’t want that to happen. I’m a judge, but you’re far more sophisticated, more worldly and more accomplished than I am. Right now, I feel like a schoolgirl on her first big date, and I’m reluctant to end it. See you at eleven.”
“I’ve seen more of the world and I’ve done more, perhaps, but I am not more accomplished than you are. I’m proud of you.” He kissed her forehead and left.
At least now she knew why he never bothered to say goodbye.
What an evening! She wouldn’t lie if she said she’d never had such a good time and certainly not such an elegant date in her whole life. And with that handsome man dressed to the nines. Tripping up the stairs to her bedroom, she stopped midway, sobered by the thought that hit her like a bolt of lightning. She was on the verge of falling for Reid Maguire, a man she barely knew. And yet, it seemed that she’d known him all of her life.
Reid jogged across Albemarle Heights to the building in which he lived, wishing that he was dressed to run miles. He needed to vent, to expel the emotion, the sexual energy coiled inside him like a fanged serpent, energy that had been dormant for years, but which sprang to life the minute he saw her. What a relief it would be if he could open his arms wide and let the wind take him wherever it would.
All that had happened to him that day, beginning with Marcus Hickson in Caution Point, had raised his hopes for his future. But when Kendra had cried for joy at his good news and then opened her arms to him, something had happened to him, something that he had never experienced before, not with Myrna or any other woman. Standing with Kendra in her foyer, he’d felt as if he belonged to her, and it was a strange feeling, indeed, for, even as a child, he had been his own person.
He opened his door, went inside and headed for the kitchen where he got a can of beer from the refrigerator and took it to the living room. After kicking off his shoes and getting rid of his jacket and tie, he popped the can of beer, flipped on the television set, leaned back and prepared to straighten out his head. In the past, that hadn’t been difficult, but the only image he saw on the screen was a sexy red dress and a woman whose allure had the power to shackle him.
He flipped off the television, drained the can of beer and went to his bedroom. “If I’m in love with her, I’m sunk,” he said aloud. He knew the danger of deep involvement with her, yet he couldn’t seem to stay away from her. But he would have to. It would hurt, probably both of them, but he had to settle the score with Brown and Worley.
He slept fitfully, rose early and began drafting the details of his design for the Caution Point air terminal. He didn’t know when he’d ever felt so good. At nine o’clock, he telephoned Marcus Hickson in Caution Point.
“The news is good,” he said after he and Marcus greeted each other. “And I’m surprised. My boss said I can do the job independent of the company, and he’s promised to send me a letter to that effect. I’ll be over the first weekend after I get that letter, and you can tell me what you need and show me the space.”
“Great. I’ll expect your call.”
“I can’t advertise that I’m doing this, because Jack—he’s my boss—said he’ll have problems with his other architects if they know about it.”
“I can appreciate that, and I’ll keep it to myself.”
At a few minutes before eleven, he dressed in warm clothing, put on his hooded storm jacket and dashed across the street to Kendra’s house. She opened the door at once.
“Hi.” She reached up and kissed him quickly on the mouth, then licked her lips, as if savoring a sweet and wicked thing.
“Hi,” he said. “Do I smell coffee?”
“You do, and I made it for you, because I know you’ve had nothing but instant.”
He followed her to the kitchen, pulled off his jacket and threw it across the back of a chair. She took a mug from one of the cabinets, put a small amount of milk in it, poured the coffee, handed it to him and turned back to pour one for herself.
“Kendra, you’re precious. Are you aware that if we continue this way, we’re liable to be stuck with each other for life?”
She didn’t turn around to look at him when she said, “Worse things could happen to me.”
He should stay where he was, and he should let that pass, but he got up and walked to her and, standing behind her, gripped her shoulders. “Does that mean you could love me?”
“Of course I could love you,” she said, her voice low and without inflection. “Now go back over there and finish your coffee.”
“What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong is I’m scared. This is moving so fast. I want to be with you every minute, but I don’t even know who you are, and you don’t know who I am. I don’t know what hurts you, makes you sad, angry, happy. I wouldn’t know how to comfort you if you were down and depressed. Do you play jokes on people, Reid.? What games do you like to play? Oh, Reid. Hold me!”
He turned her to face him, wrapped her in his arms and stroked the back of her head as she rested it against his shoulder. “We are moving fast, and I tell myself to slow down, but I don’t really want to. When I’m not with you, I’m thinking about you. Do you want us to…to see less of each other?”
“We ought to, for your sake. I want you to win that case, and a liaison with me could prove to be an impediment. I’m not willing to sacrifice that, no matter how we feel about each other.”
“I know what you’re saying, and I’ve thought about it, too. And then, we’re together, and our being together, like now, is so natural and so fulfilling,” he said to her. “How am I going to give up the pleasure of being with you?” He released her and lifted the mug of coffee. “Could you top this off, please?”
She poured some of the coffee out and refilled the cup. “Let’s go down to the Sound. I’ll get my jacket while you drink that.”
They strolled down Albemarle Heights to Washington Avenue, the road that led them to the Sound. Although flowers bloomed, the wind from the ocean still chilled, and she folded her arms to warm herself against it. As they reached the bottom—as the locals called it—of Washington Street, Reid’s arm went around her, pulling her to his side.
“It irks me that I can’t even hold your hand when we’re walking the streets.”
“Let’s give it a try, Reid. We can talk on the phone, have an occasional dinner together at your house or mine, or maybe not. I don’t know. Anyhow, I’ll always be there for you if you need me. So, let’s not see each other, Reid. I’m afraid that if we get closer, it may hurt you. I won’t be happy with that arrangement, but it’s best.”
Reid faced the wind and turned her so that she had her back to it. “What do you feel for me, Kendra? I care for you. It’s deep, and I know it isn’t going away. Tell me.”
“I care deeply for you. This isn’t a brush-off, and you know it.”
He looked into the distance. “I’m going to hire a lawyer and get started on that suit. I’m going to try to keep my distance, but I don’t promise not to call you, and I want you to promise to let me know whenever you need me. Will you do that?”
“If I need you, I’ll let you know.” Her voice broke.
“To hell with it, baby,” he said and put his arms around her. “Come on, let’s go back.”
After the first court session Monday morning, Kendra asked Carl, her clerk, to come into her chambers. “Carl, I want to get involved in the community, but I don’t quite know how to go about it. If I’m going to live here, I have to have a stake in the place.”
“We have a great little theater group, Judge. I used to belong to it, but after the babies started coming, I dropped out. What free time I had, I use to relieve my wife and look after the children. They’ll be glad to have you, and especially if you can act.”
Êîíåö îçíàêîìèòåëüíîãî ôðàãìåíòà.
Òåêñò ïðåäîñòàâëåí ÎÎÎ «ËèòÐåñ».
Ïðî÷èòàéòå ýòó êíèãó öåëèêîì, êóïèâ ïîëíóþ ëåãàëüíóþ âåðñèþ (https://www.litres.ru/gwynne-forster/one-night-with-you/) íà ËèòÐåñ.
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