Chapter 29
“Long
time no see,” she commented with a smile.
“I guess
it has been a while,” Morgan agreed as they began walking together toward the
park.
“A week,
to be exact. We haven’t run together since last Tuesday. Where have you been
hiding, anyway?”
“Here and
there. Things have been pretty hectic, in the office and out. I can’t say I’ve
felt much like socializing lately, either, with everything that’s happened.”
“I
suppose you did have a lousy week,”
Morgan
shrugged and replied with a touch of sarcasm, “Didn’t you hear? As executions
go, it was a complete success.”
With a
sigh Morgan faced her and said quietly, “I know.” Chewing her lip, she
contemplated for a moment before answering, “I know you and Jack warned me and
I thought I was prepared for how bad it was going to be, but it was a lot worse
than I could’ve ever imagined. It’s definitely not something I care to do
again.”
“I know
what you mean,”
“We
didn’t go together but he did get there before … before they started,” Morgan
explained hesitantly.
“Did he
stick around once it was over or did he have to go back to the office right
away?”
“He stuck
around. In fact, he took the rest of the day off. We rode back to the city
together and later he came over to my place for a while.”
“Good for
him! I knew he’d come through for you.” As she stretched her arms above her
head,
Morgan
glanced at her sharply. After studying her warily for a moment she asked, “Is
there a particular reason why you’re suddenly trying to sell Jack again? Or are
you just being your normal little ray-of-sunshine self today, bringing joy to
everyone you meet?”
Ignoring
her sarcasm she replied, “You’ve been seeing each other for, what? Seven,
eight months now? How long are you going to keep playing this game with him?”
When Morgan opened her mouth to protest,
“I don’t
see spending time together as being at a stalemate,” Morgan retorted.
“And what
about Jack? Do you think he would agree?”
Reaching
to rub her neck, Morgan sighed. “Last week I might have thought so. But after
this weekend, I guess I’d have to say he wouldn’t.”
After
contemplating for a second, Morgan answered flatly, “He asked if he could kiss
me.”
She gave
Morgan an incredulous look. “Jack McCoy asked for permission to kiss you?” At Morgan’s nod she prompted, “And you
said…?”
Morgan
shrugged. “I said yes.”
Taking a
step toward her,
Looking
at the ground Morgan replied, “It was fine.”
Studying
her carefully, Carmichael amended, “No, it wasn’t. It was terrifying.” At
Morgan’s quick look she added quietly, “I’ve been there, remember? I know how
difficult it is to allow someone to get close again. When you realize it’s
happening, it scares the hell out of you.”
“It shouldn’t.
Not if it’s with the right person,” Morgan argued. “Maybe the fact that it did
scare me should prove to me that it isn’t right with Jack.”
“Now
you’re just looking for loopholes,” Carmichael declared. “When you’ve been through
something traumatic, the next time you’re faced with something that reminds you
of that event you’re going to be afraid whether you want to be or not. It’s
human nature. That doesn’t mean it isn’t right or that you should avoid all
situations where you might come face to face with something you fear. You’ll
never get over your fear by turning tail and running away.”
“It
shouldn’t be so hard. I just don’t think I’m ready for this yet.”
“Give
yourself some time,” Carmichael advised. “Little by little, it will get easier.
Especially when you’re with someone you can trust – someone like Jack.”
“How do I
know I can trust him, Abbie? How can I be sure?” Morgan demanded.
“He’d
never hurt you, Calea. You know how he feels about you.”
Morgan
gave her a sharp look again, scrutinizing her closely. After a moment she
said, “I know what he says he feels.
But how do I know it isn’t just the challenge of getting something he thinks he
wants? We both know how Jack, of all people, enjoys a challenge.”
“Yes, but
he knows your past. It isn't something he takes lightly and he would never do anything to take advantage of
you.”
Shaking
her head Morgan contended, “I’m not so sure. During this last trial, I saw a
side of Jack that I had never seen before – a side I didn’t really like. I
don’t think he’s so different than any other man I’ve ever known. He isn’t
above punishing someone who does something that displeases him. How can I be
sure that won’t spill over into a personal relationship?”
“Since
when is the tendency to punish a strictly male trait? We’re all capable of
reacting like that when things don’t go our way. But Jack isn’t the kind of guy
who would make a habit of doing so in his personal relationships. He would
certainly never treat you like your ex-husband did.”
“When I
married Frank I had no idea he could be the kind of person he turned out to
be, either,” Morgan noted with annoyance. “People change. It’s a fact of life.”
With a note of resolve she added, “I think I should just back off from the
situation with Jack for a while. I mean, you’re right; if I’m not prepared to
go forward, then I should step back. It wouldn’t be fair to him to do
otherwise. I don’t want to give him the wrong impression or lead him on in any
way. If we continue to spend so much time together, it’s only going to make
things that much more difficult when we do part company.”
Carmichael studied her silently for a moment before advising quietly,
“Don’t push him away because you’re scared of what you feel for him and what he
feels for you, Calea. If you keep doing that, one of these days he isn’t going
to come back. Before you do anything, ask yourself if you can really walk away
right now without any reservations, knowing in your heart that it’s the right
thing to do. Because if you have even the slightest doubt, but walk away
anyway, you’ll end up living with the regret for the rest of your life.”
“I know
what I’m doing, Abbie,” Morgan insisted.
Carmichael shook her head slowly. “No, I don’t think you do.”
***“She heard voices before her doctor put her on
the medication. What made him think she wouldn’t hear them if she suddenly went
off of it?” Skoda asked between bites of his burger.
“I’d love
nothing more than to haul the doctor into court for his actions, but he isn’t
the one who stabbed an old woman seventeen times,” McCoy pointed out, laying
his napkin aside. “Voices or not, Paula Howard has to answer for what she did.
Otherwise, what’s to stop the next person with a grudge from taking medication
for a while, going off of it and exacting their revenge, then claiming they’re
‘cured’ and no longer a threat to society once they’re back on it? The
precedent it would set to let this woman off would be very bad for business.”
“I’m not
saying she shouldn’t suffer any consequences for her crime. As I said in my
report, even in her non-medicated state she had some awareness that what she
was doing was wrong. I’m just saying that her doctor should rightfully share in
the culpability. He was the professional with whom she entrusted her care. He
should’ve given some thought to the consequences of his actions.”
“We can’t
legally prove he acted at all,” Southerlyn interjected. “According to him she
stopped taking the medication on her own. We only have her word, the word of a
deranged woman who committed murder, saying the doctor told her it was safe to
stop.”
Skoda
shrugged. “I happen to believe her. She takes full blame for what she’s done.
She didn’t share the information about her doctor telling her she could go off
her meds because she was trying to shift blame for her actions. And the
esteemed Dr. Randolph Schwartz has a list of complaints against him a mile
long. He doesn’t inspire my confidence. I think this is simply one more example
of the careless way he practices medicine.”
Southerlyn reached into her purse for her ringing cell phone. “Excuse
me,” she said, getting up and heading for the back of the restaurant.
“Have you
talked to the nurse yet?” Skoda asked. “Maybe she’s getting fed up enough with
all the complaints to speak up. The doctor stopped writing Ms. Howard’s
prescription months ago. There should be a note in the patient’s file or at
least a lack of the usual prescribed medication listed on her chart.”
McCoy
regarded him with amusement. “You’re hell-bent on putting this guy out of
business, aren’t you? Can I call you to testify to what a lousy psychiatrist he
is?”
“You
bet,” Skoda enthusiastically agreed. “Doctors like that give the rest of us a
bad name, not to mention that they endanger the lives of their patients and/or
their patients’ victims. He needs to be stopped before anyone else gets hurt.”
Both men
looked up as Southerlyn reappeared beside the table. “That was Susan. Roger
Clark’s arraignment has been moved up. I have to leave for the courthouse right
away.” Addressing McCoy she asked, “Could you have the waiter wrap up the rest
of my lunch? I’ll finish it when I get back to the office.”
“Sure,”
McCoy nodded. “I’ll leave it on your desk.”
“Thanks.
And thanks for lunch. I’ll come find you when I get back so we can finish looking
over the depositions we started this morning.”
“There’s
no rush,” McCoy acknowledged.
“See you
later, Emil,” Southerlyn smiled.
“It’s
been a barrel of laughs as usual, Serena,” he noted wryly.
When she
had gone, McCoy sat quietly sipping his iced tea, watching as Skoda took a last
bite of his lunch. After a moment he said, “Since we have a minute alone, I’d
like to ask you something, Emil.”
“About
the case?”
He shook
his head. “No. This is about … something else.”
“Shoot,”
Skoda suggested amiably.
McCoy
stared into his tea a minute, trying to decide how to start. “Hypothetical
situation,” he finally began. “If a woman had been in an abusive relationship
in the past, what would her reaction be if she found herself getting close to
someone again?”
“That
would depend,” Skoda hedged. “How severe was the abuse?”
“On a day
to day basis, I’m not sure. She doesn’t talk about it. I do know her husband
almost beat her to death right before she left him.”
“How long
was she in the relationship?”
“Fourteen
years. The physical abuse started a couple of years into the marriage.”
“How long
has it been since she got out?”
“About
seven years, give or take.”
“And do
you know if she got help afterwards? Counseling or anything?”
“I doubt it.
She doesn’t strike me as the sort of person who would. She’s an extremely
private person. She’s also very … self-reliant,” he concluded.
“That’s
actually a coping technique with some women who escape abuse,” Skoda explained.
He sat back thoughtfully and crossed his arms. “Well, most women coming out of
that situation usually do one of two things. They are either subconsciously
drawn to what’s familiar to them and look for another man with similar
qualities who ends up treating them the same way, or they try to avoid men all
together, especially in social situations, so they don’t put themselves in the
position of getting involved with anyone again. Since you’ve indicated that
this particular woman has already established something of a relationship with
someone, I hope you’ll also tell me she doesn’t fit into the first category I
just described. She isn’t involved with someone who would eventually abuse her,
is she?”
“Oh no,
not at all,” McCoy quickly assured him. “That would never happen.”
“You seem
very sure. Sounds like you know the guy pretty well,” Skoda hinted with a
knowing smile.
“I do,”
McCoy agreed succinctly, returning the smile.
Turning
more serious Skoda said, “From what little you’ve told me of this woman, faced
with the feelings that a close relationship would stir up, her first
inclination would probably be to run like hell.”
McCoy
nodded. “She’s definitely gun-shy. She told me point blank that she doesn’t
want to have feelings for anyone.”
“If she
already does she most likely doesn’t want to admit it to herself, let alone to
anyone else. No matter how self-reliant they may appear, women who’ve been
abused invariably suffer from low self-esteem to one degree or another, even
years after the abuse has ended. A man who abuses a woman makes her feel as
though she’s totally dependent on him for absolutely everything, both her
physical and emotional needs. It’s how he keeps her under his control. Once
that relationship is over, it’s difficult for the woman to believe that anyone
else could care for her. And if by
chance someone does, there’s always the thought in the back of her mind that
any relationship will end in abuse again.”
Leaning
his arms on the table McCoy asked, “So what would happen if the guy, out of
the blue, laid his feelings on the line and told her he cared for her?”
“It would
probably scare the hell out of her. She would react just the opposite of most
women in that situation. Instead of being drawn to the man, she’d want to put some
distance between the two of them.”
With a
sigh McCoy sat back and let his hands drop to his lap. When he caught Skoda
scrutinizing him, he shrugged dejectedly. “She told me she’d be in touch when
she was ready to talk but asked that I not get in touch with her. It’s been a
week and a half and I still haven’t heard from her.”
“How long have the two of you been seeing
each other?”
“We’ve been spending time together for about
eight months now, strictly on a casual, friendly basis.” With his voice full of
frustration he added, “For every small step I’ve taken toward her, she’s taken
two huge steps back. Now I feel as though I’ve backed her into a corner. I
should’ve seen this coming and taken things slower. But I thought she finally
trusted me, and that telling her how I felt first would make her feel…” He
paused before continuing, “I thought it would make her feel more secure.”
“You can’t undo in eight months what was done
over a twelve year period, Jack. She lived in fear every day of those twelve
years whether she was actually abused every day or not. Therapy might help, but
the fear is deeply imbedded within her. She has no more control over those
feelings than you do. Not only is she afraid of the things that most people fear
– being left for someone else, the relationship not working out – but she’s
also afraid of again experiencing the physical and emotional devastation that
comes as a result of being in an abusive relationship.”
McCoy
studied the other man intently, then slowly asked, “Are you saying she could be
afraid of me physically?”
“Certainly. How could she not be?”
Shaking
his head McCoy insisted, “I’d never hurt her.”
“No,”
Skoda agreed, “but someone did. And that’s what she remembers of her last
relationship – the pain, both physical and emotional. It isn’t enough that
you’re not the kind of person who would ever do to her any of the things she
fears. You have to prove it. And proving it is going to take a lot of time and
patience.”
“Patience isn’t exactly one of my virtues, in
case you hadn’t noticed,” McCoy pointed out.
Skoda gave him a quick smile. “There’s no
time like the present to learn. Give her the time she’s asked for. She’s going
to have to accept her own feelings before she can respond to yours.”
“But as you said, she isn’t going to want to
admit what she feels. How do I know that what she does say is what she’s really
feeling and not simply the reaction to some residual fear?”
“You’ll have to learn to read between the
lines,” Skoda recommended. “You’re going to have to look past the words to see
what she’s really feeling.”
“She isn’t an easy person to read. I never
seem to be able to figure out what’s going on inside her head.”
Skoda leaned an elbow on the table and
propped his chin in his hand. “When you’re sitting across from a suspect or
defendant, can you tell whether or not that person is lying?”
“Most of the time,” McCoy nodded, wondering
at the relevance of the question.
“How can you tell?”
McCoy contemplated for a moment, then
answered, “It depends on the person. Sometimes it’s their eyes – they may shift
nervously or the person may avoid eye contact all together. Some people have a
tell, like in poker. You figure out what their tell is and you know whether
they’re lying. With others, it has to do with body language.”
“So it isn’t as much what they say as how
they say it, or what they’re doing while they say it, right? It’s the same in a
relationship. Men tend to hear the words. They don’t always look for what’s
going on in addition to what’s being said. Women express themselves
non-verbally as much or more than they do verbally. You have to consider the
whole picture to understand what they really mean. And it never hurts to ask
questions. Sometimes you have to dig a little to get to the real issue. Don’t
simply listen when she talks to you. Use the same methods you do in your work
to discern and draw out what she’s really trying to tell you.”
“And if she says she wants to put more
distance between us?”
“Then back off for a while. Tell her you’re
willing to give her as much time and space as she needs, then assure her you’ll
be there for her when she’s ready. Letting her know that you’re willing to wait
may be what convinces her that she can trust you.” Skoda advised with a
sympathetic smile, “And don’t beat yourself up if you feel you’ve made a
mistake, or if things don’t go according to plan. Be patient with yourself,
too.”
“Easier said than done,” McCoy admitted,
shaking his head as the waiter placed the ticket on the table.
Skoda
watched as McCoy paid the bill, then noted, “Pursuing a relationship with this
woman isn’t going to be easy. You have your work cut out for you.”
A slow
smile lit McCoy’s face as he pocketed his wallet. “I know. But she’s worth it.”
Shaking his head in amusement Skoda noted,
“I didn’t doubt that for a minute.”
***“I was thinking about
something spicy,” Southerlyn admitted, pushing the call button for the
elevator. “How about Szechwan? Or Thai? There’s a little place a couple of blocks
from here that I’ve heard is really good.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of meat
and potatoes,” McCoy noted. “Why don’t we try the steak place that just opened
up?”
“If I eat something that heavy, I’ll need a
nap this afternoon,” Southerlyn argued. “I certainly won’t be in any shape to
finish the mountain of paperwork waiting on my desk.”
“All right – nothing heavy. What about…”
McCoy stopped, mid-sentence, as he caught sight of someone familiar stepping
from the elevator in front of them.
“Hi,” Morgan said simply at his surprised
look.
“Well, hello. What brings you to our neck of
the woods?” he queried happily.
Morgan moved to one side as someone behind
her exited the elevator as well. “I had a meeting not far from here and thought
I’d stop by to visit for a moment and see if you were free for lunch.” Giving
Southerlyn a smile she added, “It looks like you already have plans, though.”
“Nothing that can’t be changed,” McCoy
assured her. Addressing Southerlyn he asked, “You don’t mind if we cancel
lunch today, do you, Serena? We can discuss the Howard case later this
afternoon.”
“Uh, no, I don’t mind,” Southerlyn assured
him, caught off guard at the pointed question. “In fact, I have an errand I
should take care of. You two have a good lunch.”
McCoy nodded and turned to give Morgan a
bright smile. “Looks like I’m all yours.”
***Watching from across
the table as Morgan stirred sweetener into her tea, McCoy tried to quell the
slight apprehension he felt. He had allowed her to steer the conversation and
after her initial good-natured chastisement of him for so abruptly ditching
Southerlyn, they had talked of nothing but trivial matters during the walk to
the restaurant and while waiting for their order to be taken. Morgan had
appeared uneasy herself, which did nothing to lessen his suspicion that she was
planning to tell him something she knew he didn’t want to hear.
“So what have you been doing lately?” she
asked, setting her glass down.
“Working mostly,” he answered. “It seems there’s
a virus making the rounds through our office and we’ve been short-handed lately
with several people out sick. I’m hoping Serena or I don’t catch it. With our
case load lately, we’ll never get caught up if we miss even a day.”
“I’ve had a couple of clients cancel
appointments due to sickness. Maybe it’s something going around the city,” she
noted. “What about your weekends? Have they been as busy?”
“I did spend some time at the office getting
caught up on paperwork this past Saturday,” he informed her. “Sunday I had an
exciting day working out and doing laundry.”
“Sounds familiar,” she nodded. Turning her
tea glass around in her hands she asked, “And the holiday weekend? Did you do
anything special then?”
He studied her briefly before answering,
wondering if the small talk was leading anywhere or if it was simply a way to
ease the nervousness. “On the Sunday after I last saw you I took my bike out.
About a year ago I convicted a man who had killed a woman as she was entering a
restaurant. As a way of expressing his gratitude, the woman’s husband told me I
could use a private stretch of beach near where he has an estate any time I
wanted. On Sunday I drove out there for the first time. It was great. Miles
and miles of sand with no one in sight. I ended up spending a good part of the
day there.”
“It sounds wonderful.” Giving him a hesitant
look she suggested tentatively, “Maybe you could take me there sometime.”
His eyebrows arched slightly, then he nodded.
“I’ll take you there anytime you like. Just say when.”
“Well, I’m free this Saturday,” she said
quietly, adding quickly, “If you don’t have plans already.”
He shook his head and gave her a smile. “I
don’t have anything planned. I’d love to take you there.”
“Then it’s a date,” she decided, returning
his smile. “I’ll call you tomorrow evening and you can tell me what time to be
ready and what I need to bring along.”
“All right,” he agreed. Regarding her
intently, he tried to do as Skoda had suggested and read between the lines.
Finally, taking another of Skoda’s suggestions, he asked slowly, “Does this
mean everything is okay between us?”
She gave him a puzzled look. “Why wouldn’t it
be?”
“Given the message you left on my recorder,
and after everything that happened the last time we were together, I wasn’t
sure. I was afraid you might not want to see me again.” Crossing him arms on
the table, he leaned forward on them. “The last thing I wanted to do was make
you feel as though I was pushing you into something you weren’t ready for.”
Morgan regarded him curiously but remained
silent.
“I realize it took you a long time to get to
the point you’re at now and it’s going to take time to get past it,” he
continued. “I can’t expect you to forget your past and put your complete trust
in me overnight.” He paused again, watching for a reaction, then added, “I’m
sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable in any way. I should’ve been more
patient.” He stopped and gave her a pointed look. “Are you going to say
something here, or just leave me floundering?”
Morgan grinned and replied, “I was kind of
enjoying myself. I can hardly wait to hear what other revelations you’ve
experienced.”
Trying to look as though he was wounded, he
shook his head. “Here I am, trying to be sensitive and sincere, and you’re
laughing at me. Thanks a lot.”
“Aren’t ‘sensitive’ and ‘sincere’ oxymorons
when it comes to men?” she asked innocently.
His eyes were warm and filled with amusement
as he declared, “I’ve missed you!” Then, growing a bit more serious, he
confessed, “I can’t tell you how many times in the past two weeks I’ve wanted
to call. But you asked me to give you some time, so that’s what I did.”
“And I appreciate that,” she acknowledged.
Taking a deep breath she admitted, “Look, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have
some serious misgivings and concerns about changing our relationship, Jack.
What happened between us and what you said afterwards made me see that things
could no longer remain the same, though. It was time to either move forward or
stop seeing each other altogether. But when I thought about not spending time
with you, I knew that wasn’t what I really wanted. In the last two weeks, I
realized just how much I had come to look forward to our time together. Truth
is, I’ve missed you too.”
Standing up abruptly, McCoy moved to the
chair next to her and sat back down, then leaned toward her. “Then why haven’t
you shown up to take me to lunch before now? Why did you make me wait so long?”
Morgan shrugged, keeping her eyes focused on
the table. “It took time for me to figure out what I really felt and that
walking away wasn’t the right thing to do. And in order to be fair to you, I
also had to be reasonably sure I could move forward with the relationship.”
Watching her closely he asked, “And are you
sure now?”
She looked up at him, her eyes serious. “No,
I’m not. But I am willing to give it a try.”
He smiled slowly and reached to take her
hand. “How could I possibly ask for anything more than that?”
***“Isn’t it just like I
said?”
Morgan stretched lazily in the sun, gazing
out at the water. “It’s perfect.” Glancing up and down the beach she noted, “I
can’t believe there are no people here. How could anyone who has access to a
beach like this not take advantage on a beautiful day like today?”
“I guess rich people have better things to
do,” McCoy commented, beginning to unpack food from a bag and set it on the
blanket he had spread on the sand. “What did you make us for lunch?”
Reaching to help, she replied, “Chicken salad
sandwiches and potato salad.”
His eyes lit up. “You made potato salad? Why
didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought I’d surprise you.”
Smiling, he opened another bag and pulled a
small compact disc player from it. “Speaking of surprises, I have one for you,
too.” He laid it on the blanket and pushed ‘play’.
Morgan’s mouth opened in surprise as the
music began. “It’s the song I like that the jazz band played! How did you ever
to find it?”
“I contacted the band’s manager and asked if
they had a CD out. He said they didn’t but they did have a demo they had been
working on. He let me have one.”
To his surprise, Morgan reached to give him
an exuberant hug. “I love it! I can’t believe you went to all that trouble to
get it.”
“It wasn’t any trouble,” he smiled, pleased
with himself and her reaction.
As she sat back cross-legged on the blanket,
she picked up a bowl and spoon and handed it to him. “Making potato salad is
going to pale in comparison to your surprise.”
“You don’t know how much I like potato
salad,” he contended. After sampling a bite, he closed his eyes. “Mmm… This is
wonderful! No wonder you don’t like anyone else’s. A person could get spoiled
very quickly eating this.”
“The credit goes to my grandmother,” she
admitted. “It’s her recipe.”
“Well you’d better stock up on potatoes. I’m
going to be bugging you to make it all the time now that I’ve tried it. The
dill pickles really add something.” Taking another big bite he said, “I hope
you brought plenty along.”
“I did,” she nodded with a smile. “And
there’s plenty more at home waiting for you.”
***“Don’t you want to
keep some for yourself?” McCoy asked as he watched Morgan take a large bowl
from the refrigerator and place it in a plastic bag.
“I did,” she assured him, turning to hand it
to him. “But I don’t need much.”
“Well this will probably last me … through
tomorrow, at least,” he teased, setting the bag beside his helmet. “When are
you planning to make some more?”
She shook her head slowly. “Why do I get the
feeling I’ve started something I’m going to be sorry for?”
He reached for her and pulled her carefully
into his arms. “That’s what you get for being such a great cook. You’re never
going to get rid of me now. I told you a long time ago about the hazards of
feeding strays.”
Morgan tentatively placed her hands on his
chest. “Yes, you did,” she agreed shyly, without actually looking up at him.
All day he had thought about kissing her
again but had made no move to do so. He had done nothing more than hold her hand
as they walked along the beach and through the surf, giving her time to get
comfortable with him again. But he wasn’t about to let the evening slip by
without making an attempt.
“Your nose got sunburned,” he informed her
quietly, looking down at her.
She reached to touch it gingerly with a
finger. “Did it? I put on sun block. Maybe I missed my nose.”
“It isn’t too bad.” He placed his hand
against her cheek, smoothing back her hair. “I had a great time today.”
“So did I,” she agreed, finally looking up at
him.
“We’ll have to do it again soon, before it
gets too cool.”
“I’d like that,” she nodded.
He stood looking at her for a moment, giving
her the opportunity to pull away if she so desired. But other than the slight
tension he felt in her body, she gave no indication that she was unwilling.
Without another word, he bent toward her,
keeping one hand curved around her waist and the other on her cheek. He kissed
her gently, resisting the urge to pull her tightly against him, even when he felt
her hand slide up to rest lightly on his shoulder. Taking a cue from the
tentative way she responded, he kept it brief and broke it off after only a few
seconds.
Studying her intently, he saw only the
slightest uneasiness in her eyes. Giving her a smile he asked, “Okay?”
Morgan nodded, returning the smile faintly.
“Okay.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he promised,
reaching for his helmet and the bag beside it. “Be thinking about where you
want to go for dinner.”
“You decide,” she suggested. “It is your turn
to pay.”
“Well, when you put it that way…” he grinned.
Bending impulsively, he gave her another quick kiss. “Good-night, Calea. See
you tomorrow.”
“Be careful driving home, Jack,” she advised
as he entered the elevator. “No fast corners.”
Turning around, he gave her a bright smile
before the door closed.