Love Me or Leave Me. Gwynne Forster

first time in my life that a man destroyed my will. I am self-possessed most of the time, or so people tell me, but not right now. I’m quiet because if I talk, I’ll probably say something I’ll regret…like what I just said.”

      His stare seemed to penetrate her. Then, he laughed. “If I was sitting beside you, I’d hug you. I wondered if I was out of line back there. You’re not alone, Pamela. I also got a surprise. A big one. As long as you’re not sorry—”

      “I’m not.”

      “Neither am I.”

      He held her hand as they walked to his Jaguar, which he’d parked three blocks from the restaurant. “I’ll be terribly disappointed if you don’t like this movie,” he said.

      “Not to worry. I need a good laugh.”

      “I’m going to assume that that remark had no negative implications.”

      “I don’t believe in indirect insults. A stab ought to be clean and lethal.”

      He opened the passenger door for her, fastened her seat belt and closed the door. “Something tells me I’d better get a breastplate,” he said after settling into the car and closing the door.

      “Why? I wouldn’t harm a strand of your hair. Besides, do I look like I’d hurt a flea?”

      He turned fully to face her. “If my hair is so safe with you, move over here and let me get my arms around you.”

      She did as he’d asked and was rewarded with a tenderness that was new to her, with him or with anyone. “I could get used to this with you,” he whispered, “but I’d better move slowly, because I don’t know what the end will be.”

      She didn’t release him, because she didn’t want to, because she needed to prolong and savor that moment when she first knew she loved him. She reached up, ran her hands over his hair and then let her fingers trail down the side of his face and her thumb caress his bottom lip. It was an intimate gesture, she knew, but she felt like being honest with him. And it was the one way she could tell him he was precious to her without saying the words.

      As if he understood the meaning of her gesture, he whispered, “Yeah. Me, too,” turned the key in the ignition, put the car in Drive and headed for the movie.

      Chapter 3

      This must be my day, Drake thought as Pamela’s head lolled on his shoulder while she laughed hysterically. “Everybody must to get off from street,” the on-screen Russian sailor said to the old woman in his broken English as he pretended to be a representative of the local authorities. His submarine had accidentally surfaced off Nantucket, and he and his fellow sailors were trying to get back to it without causing an international incident.

      “Did you really enjoy it so much?” he asked her as they left the theater. “I confess I’ve seen it a dozen times, beginning when I was a teenager, and I’ve laughed as hard each time I’ve seen it as I did the first time.”

      They walked out swinging their locked hands, and through out the drive to the apartment building in which she lived, they reminisced about the movie, laughing at the funny parts. He walked with her to her apartment door, uncertain as to how he wanted to end the evening, though he knew lovemaking or the suggestion of it would be a mistake.

      She proved the wisdom of his intuition when she said, “This evening was very special. Do you still need breathing space?”

      Unprepared for the question, but aware that she had a penchant for candidness, he took his time answering. “I don’t remember having equivocated about anything of importance to me, but how I answer your question could have a powerful effect on my life. I like being with you, and I want to see you, but right now, that’s as far as I can go.”

      She laid her head to one side and looked hard at him, so much so that she nearly unnerved him. “That isn’t far enough for me, Drake. Limbo isn’t a place where I would knowingly go. I realize that you need to assure yourself that you have a firm grip on your future, that you’re managing your life’s course, and I respect that, but I also have to manage mine. You can start a family when you’re sixty, but I don’t have that option.”

      Standing on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek and dazzled him with the smile that showed a half dimple in her right cheek. “If the tide was moving in the right direction, you could mean everything to me. But it isn’t, and I’m not going to wait for you to make up your mind. Good night.”

      He told her good-night, and as he walked down the hall to the elevator, it was as if the weight of his feet dragged him along. He heard the lock turn on her door and swung around, wanting with all his heart to turn back and find solace in her arms. But he comforted himself with the thought that what he needed was a good rest, a chance to empty his head of work and of the minutiae cluttering his life, a chance to focus on what was important to him personally.

      He had planned to spend the night with Russ, but changed his mind and headed for Eagle Park. He got home after midnight, and it surprised him to find Telford and Alexis sitting in the den watching a movie. He was tempted to slip by and go to his room. He had never been less willing to share himself with another person. But that was not the way of the Harrington brothers, so he went into the den, mixed a Scotch whiskey and soda, and joined Telford and Alexis.

      “I hardly expected you back tonight,” Telford said. “I hope all’s well.”

      He pulled out the hassock from beneath his chair and propped his feet on it. “Let’s put it this way. For now, at least, everything depends on me. But she’s not waiting while I figure out where I’m going.”

      “I always thought you were the most resolute person imaginable,” Alexis said. “Do you have misgivings about her?”

      “That’s one of the things about this that perplexes me,” he said. “She’s the kind of woman I want. Nothing’s wrong with her, and she suits me, but still I seem willing to risk losing her. I don’t think that any woman I want will be available to me, nor do I believe I’ll meet another one like Pamela, at least not soon. I guess the problem is that there is unspoken pressure on me to fall in love and get married. Nobody’s said it, but all this marital and soon-to-be marital bliss is making me feel that I’m missing a lot. I can see the difference in you and in Russ, and I also want to feel equally secure with the woman who’s special to me.” He threw up his hands. “Oh, what the hell. I guess I’m just not ready to settle down.”

      “So she told you she won’t wait while you shilly-shally?” Telford asked, pushing the needle where he knew it would hurt, for Drake prided himself in his ability to think through a problem, come to a decision and act on it without equivocating.

      Drake spread his legs, leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. “You could say that.”

      “Man, I hope she doesn’t settle on someone else.”

      “I hope for her sake that she does,” Alexis said, causing both men to sit upright and stare at her. “If she wants children, she’d better do something about it, or she will forever regret it. A man can’t possibly understand the instinct that makes women want to be mothers.”

      “I know it’s powerful,” Drake said. He wished he’d gone directly to his room. Alexis was right, but knowing that caused a cloud of weariness to settle over him. “I think I’ll be getting to bed,” he said. “Thanks for the company.” He plodded up the wide, winding stairs, his mind on Pamela and how he’d felt earlier that evening at the door of her apartment. And he thought back to the times she had caressed him so sweetly and so lovingly—asking nothing and demanding nothing—and he’d felt as if he could move mountains.

      He reached the landing and banged his fist on the railing. “What the hell’s wrong with me? I know damned well I don’t want any other man to have that woman.” But did he love her? “Hell, I’m not going there,” he said to himself. “If I do love her, I’ll probably act like it.”

      After a shower, he