“Oh, baby, I don’t regret a thing.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “I’ve got to get back inside.” But she had to wait until the flush of desire had left her face and her body had stopped trembling.
“It seems to me,” Alex said with a smile of supreme confidence, “that if kissing you is this good, then when we finally make love it’ll be downright dangerous.” With that, he climbed into the driver’s seat, closed the door and started the engine.
“You didn’t call me,” Carol’s mother complained Friday evening. “All week I waited for you to phone and tell me about your date with the non-Italian.”
“I’m sorry, Mama,” Carol said, glancing at the kitchen clock. Alex was due to pick her up for the Home Show in ten minutes. Peter was staying overnight at a friend’s, and she was running behind schedule as it was. The last thing she wanted to do was argue with her mother.
“You should be sorry. I could have died this week and you wouldn’t have known. Your uncle in Jersey City would’ve had to call you and tell you your mother was dead.”
“Mama, Peter started track this week, and we’ve gotten home late every single night.”
“So don’t keep me in suspense. Tell me.”
Carol paused. “About what?”
“Your date with that Englishman. Did he take you to bed?”
“Mama!” Sometimes the things her mother said actually shocked Carol. “Of course not.”
“It’s a shame. Are you seeing him again? But don’t wear those shoes with the pointed toes or he’ll think you’re a loose woman. And to be on the safe side, don’t mention your cousin Celeste.”
“Mama, I can’t talk now. Alex will be here any minute—we’re going to the Home Show. His company has a booth there, and it’d be impolite to keep him waiting.”
“Do you think he’ll convert?”
“Mama, I’m not marrying Alex.”
“Maybe not,” her mother said with a breathless sigh, “but then again, who knows?”
The doorbell chimed, and Carol, who’d been dreading this evening from the moment she’d agreed to it, was flooded with a sense of relief.
“Bye, Mama.”
Angelina said her farewells and added something about bringing Alex over to try her pasta. Carol was putting down the receiver by the time her mother had finished issuing her advice.
The doorbell rang again as Carol hurried into the living room. She rushed to open the door. “I’m sorry it took me so long to answer. My mother was on the phone.”
“Did she give you any advice?” Alex teased.
“Just a little. She said it might not be a good idea if I mentioned my cousin Celeste.”
“Who?”
“Never mind.” Carol laughed a little nervously. Alex looked too good to be true, and the warm, open appreciation in his eyes did wonders for her self-esteem.
“You were worth the wait.”
Carol could feel the blush in her cheeks. She wasn’t used to having men compliment her, although her family was free with praise and always had been. This was different, however. Alex wasn’t family.
His eyes compelled her forward, and she stepped toward him without question, then halted abruptly, realizing she’d very nearly walked into his arms.
“I’ll…get my purse.” She turned away, but his hand at her shoulder turned her back.
“Not yet.”
“Alex…I don’t think we should—”
But that was all the protest she was allowed. She closed her eyes as he ran his hand through her hair, then directed her mouth to his with tender restraint. He kissed her lightly at first, until she was pliant and willing in his arms….
When he pulled away from her, she slowly, languorously, opened her eyes to meet his.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he groaned. “Come on, let’s get out of here before we end up doing something we’re not ready to deal with yet.”
“What?” Carol asked, blinking, still too dazed to think coherently.
“I think you know the answer to that.”
They were in Alex’s car before either of them spoke again. “If it’s okay with you, I’ve got to stop at the office and pick up some more brochures,” Alex said. “We’re running low already.”
“Of course it’s okay,” Carol told him. It was a good thing she was sitting down because her legs seemed too weak to support her. She was sure her face was flushed, and she’d rarely felt this shaky.
Her mind became her enemy as Alex headed toward the freeway. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d felt against her. So strong and warm. A thin sheen of perspiration moistened her upper lip, and she swiped at it, eager to dispel the image that refused to leave her mind.
“How far is your office?” Carol asked after several strained minutes had passed. Alex seemed unusually quiet himself.
“Another quarter of an hour.”
Not knowing how else to resume the conversation, she dropped it after that.
“Peter’s staying with Dale tonight?” he finally asked.
“Yes. James, too?”
“Yes.”
That was followed by ten more minutes of silence. Then Alex exited the freeway.
Carol curled her fingers around the armrest when he stopped at the first red light. The district was an industrial area and well lit.
As soon as he pulled into a side street, she saw his company sign. She’d never asked about his business and was impressed when she saw a small fleet of trucks and vans neatly parked in rows outside. He was apparently far more successful than she’d assumed.
Unlocking the door, Alex let her precede him inside. He flicked a switch, and light immediately flooded the office. One entire wall was lined with filing cabinets. Three desks, holding computers, divided the room. Carol didn’t have time to give the room more than a fleeting glance as Alex directed her past the first desk and into another large office. She saw his name on the door.
The room was cluttered. The top of his desk looked as if a cyclone had hit it.
“The brochures are around here someplace,” he muttered, picking up a file on a corner of the credenza. “Help yourself to a butterscotch candy.”
“Thanks.” As Carol reached for one, her gaze fell on the two framed photographs hidden behind a stack of computer printouts. The top of a woman’s head showed on one of the photos, but that was all she could see. The second one was of James.
“I’ve got to get organized one of these days,” Alex was saying.
Curious, Carol moved toward the credenza and the two photographs. “Who’s this?” She asked, lifting the picture of the woman. She was beautiful. Blond. Blue-eyed. Wholesome. Judging by the hairstyle and clothes, the picture had been taken several years earlier.
Alex paused. “That’s Gloria.”
“She was your wife?”
Alex nodded, pulled out the high-backed cushioned chair and sank into it. “She died two years ago. Cancer.”
It was all Carol could do to hold on to the picture. The pain in his voice stabbed through her.
“I…I thought you were divorced.”
“No,” Alex said quietly.
Carol continued to study the beautiful woman in the photo. “You loved her, didn’t you?”
“So much that when the time came, I wanted to die with her. Yes, I loved her.”
With shaking hands, Carol replaced the photograph. Her back was to Alex, and she briefly closed her eyes. She made a rigorous effort to smile when she turned to face him again.
He frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said breezily.
“You look pale all of a sudden. I thought you knew…. I assumed James or Peter had told you.”
“No—neither of them mentioned it.”
“I’m sorry if this comes as a shock.”
“There’s no reason to apologize.”
Alex nodded, sighed and reached for her hand, pulling her down into his lap. “I figured you’d understand better than most what it is to lose someone you desperately love.”
Six
“Gloria had problems when James was born,” Alex began. His hold on Carol’s waist tightened almost painfully, but she was sure he wasn’t aware of it. “The doctors said there wouldn’t be any more children.”
“Alex, please, there’s no need to tell me this.”
“There is,” he said. “I want you to know. It’s important to me….”
Carol closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the side of his head. She knew intuitively that he didn’t often speak of his late wife, and that he found it difficult to do so now.
Alex wove his fingers into her hair. “In the years after Jim’s birth, Gloria’s health was never good, but the doctors couldn’t put their finger on what was wrong. She was weak and tired a lot of the time. It wasn’t until Jim was in junior high that we learned she had leukemia—myelocytic leukemia, one of the most difficult forms to treat.” He paused and drew in an unsteady breath.
“Alex,” she pleaded, her hands framing his face. “Don’t, please—this is obviously so painful for you.” But the moment her eyes met his, she knew nothing she said or did would stop him. She sensed that only sharing it now, with her, would lessen the trauma of his memories.
“We did all the usual things—the chemotherapy, the other drugs—but none of it helped, and she grew steadily worse. Later, when it was clear that nothing else could be done, we opted for a bone-marrow transplant. Her sister and mother flew in from New York, and her sister was the better match. But…that didn’t work, either.”
Carol stroked his cheek, yearning to do anything she could to lessen the pain.
He hesitated and drew in a quavering breath. “She suffered so much. That was the worst for me to deal with. I was her husband, and I’d sworn to love and protect her, and there wasn’t a thing I could do…not a single, solitary thing.”
Tears moistened Carol’s eyes, and she struggled to keep them at bay.
Alex’s voice remained firm and controlled, but Carol recognized the pain he was experiencing. “I didn’t know what courage was until I watched Gloria die,” he whispered. He closed his eyes. “The last three weeks of her life, it was obvious she wasn’t going to make it. Finally she fell into a coma and was put on a respirator. The doctors knew she’d never come out of it and so did the nurses. I could see them emotionally removing themselves, and I couldn’t bear it. I became a crazy man, refusing to leave her side, letting no one care for her but me. I held on to her hand and silently willed her to live with every breath I took. I honestly believe I kept her alive by the sheer force of my will. I was afraid to leave her, afraid that when I did, she’d slip silently into death. Eventually that was exactly what happened. I left her because Jim needed me and because I knew that at some point I’d have to leave. I sat in the hospital waiting room with my son, telling him about his mother, and suddenly a pain, an intense stabbing pain, shot through me—” he hesitated and gave a ragged sigh “—and in that instant, I knew she was gone. I’ve never felt anything like it. A few minutes later, a nurse came for me. I can remember that scene so vividly—my mind’s played it back so many times.
