Reckless Seduction. Gwynne Forster

terribly busy. I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

       “I deserve that.”

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

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

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

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

       “But, Haley—”

       “I’ll be fine. Please, Amy.”

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

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

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

       “Home or office?”

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

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

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

       “Alright, love, but be careful. He’s had a few serious wounds. Best of luck.”

       I’ve had some bad scratches myself, she thought, as she dialed Jon’s number.

       “Ecklund.” He couldn’t know that the sound of his voice disarmed her.

       “Yes.” He spoke sharply.

       “Jon, this is Haley.”

       “Yes, Haley? I was leaving my office when the phone rang. What is it?”

       “I’m extremely sorry about my rudeness.” She realized she sounded stiff and formal. “I…I just panicked. I’ve never done such a thing before.”

       “Is the fact that you’ve given me this singular honor supposed to soothe my ego?” he asked, his tone as bitter as his words.

       “Please don’t hold it against me.”

       “What prompted it, Haley? Frankly, I was shocked.”

       He wasn’t going to help, and she didn’t blame him. “I called because I would never deliberately attempt to hurt you. I confess that my reaction to you confuses me.”

       “Why should you panic? Because you’re accustomed to being in control, and you’re not? Well, neither one of us is. Look, I’d settle for some honesty between us. You were honest when you danced with me that night at Nels’s party. But because I didn’t know where I was headed and showed it, I earned your displeasure and perhaps your distrust. I called you today to put it right. The ball is in your court now. I want to know you better, but crawling is not something that I do.”

       “We could have dinner together tomorrow night.” Had she said that? She knew that she would regret it. She could never be indifferent to this man. And yet she could not—would not—open herself to the possibility of another demoralizing intimacy.

       “What about that urgent proposal?”

       “Dinner with you may be just what’s needed to expedite it,” she said, cryptically.

       Jon pondered that for a bit.

       “I’ll call for you at seven-thirty.” She hadn’t given him her address, but he’d get it just like she got his telephone number—from Nels.

       He leaned forward, elbows on his desk, hands together and fingers spread pyramid fashion. Why had he agreed to that date? When he’d heard her voice, he’d felt a yearning for her that he hadn’t had for a woman in years. He’d been alone by choice for five years, forcing himself not to want, not to need. But she made him want, made him need, made him ache. He hungered for her. He’d suspected that her cool composure was a farce, a facade, a cover for the softness that she had unwittingly displayed in unguarded moments when they danced.

       One thing was certain: Haley Feldon did not want to be soft or passionate. She was trying to project an image of being cool, tough and unattainable. He’d have dinner with her, yes, but he’d be damned if he was going to be sucked into a quicksand of emotion.

       He closed his eyes, and the vision of her floated before him. He could see her doe-soft, beguiling brown eyes, and he shuddered. Hell, what he needed was fifty laps in his upstate pool.

       “Ecklund, you’re losing it,” he said aloud. But his spirits buoyed for reasons that he didn’t bother to examine. He left his office whistling “If I Loved You.”