was damn difficult, because he understood their need for each other all too well. There’d been a time when a mere look was all that was required to spark flames between him and Carol. Their desire seemed to catch fire and leap to brilliance with a single touch, and they couldn’t get to bed fast enough. Steve had been crazy in love with her. Carol had appealed to all his senses and he’d ached with the desire to possess her completely. The only time he felt he’d accomplished that was when he was making love to her. Then and only then was Carol utterly his. And those times were all too brief.
Outside the apartment, the sky was dark with thick gray clouds. Steve walked across the street and headed toward the department stores. He didn’t have much Christmas shopping to do, but now appeared to be as good a time for the task as any.
He hesitated in front of a pay phone and released a long, slow breath. He might as well call Carol and be done with it. She wanted to gloat, and he would let her. After all, it was the season to be charitable.
* * *
The phone rang just as Carol was coming in the front door. She stopped, set her purse on the kitchen counter and glared at the telephone. Her heart rammed against her rib cage with such force that she had to stop and gather her thoughts. It was Steve. The phone might as well have been spelling out his name in Morse code, she was that sure.
“Hello?” she answered brightly, on the third ring.
“Lindy said you phoned.” His words were low, flat and emotionless.
“Yes, I did,” she murmured, her nerves clamoring.
“Do you want to tell me why, or are you going to make me guess? Trust me, Carol, I’m in no mood to play twenty questions with you.”
Oh Lord, this wasn’t going to be easy. Steve sounded so cold and uncaring. She’d anticipated it, but it didn’t lessen the effect his tone had on her. “I … I thought we could talk.”
A short, heavy silence followed.
“I’m listening.”
“I’d rather we didn’t do it over the phone, Steve,” she said softly, but not because she’d planned to make her voice silky and smooth. Her vocal chords had tightened and it just came out sounding that way. Her nerves were stretched to their limit, and her heart was pounding in her ear like a charging locomotive.
“Okay,” he answered, reluctance evident in every syllable.
“When?” Her gaze scanned the calendar—the timing of this entire venture was of primary importance.
“Tomorrow?” he suggested.
Carol’s eyes drifted shut as the relief worked its way through her stiff limbs. Her biggest concern was that he would suggest after the Christmas holidays, and then it would be too late and she would have to reschedule everything for January.
“That would be fine,” Carol managed. “Would you mind coming to the house?” The two bedroom brick rambler had been awarded to her as part of the divorce settlement.
Again she could feel his hesitation. “As a matter of fact, I would.”
“All right,” she answered, quickly gathering her wits. His not wanting to come to the house shouldn’t have surprised her. “How about coffee at Denny’s tomorrow evening?”
“Seven?”
Carol swallowed before answering. “Fine. I’ll see you then.”
Her hand was still trembling a moment later when she replaced the telephone receiver in its cradle. All along she’d accepted that Steve wasn’t going to fall into her bed without some subtle prompting, but from the brusque, impatient sound of his voice, the whole escapade could well be impossible … this month. That bothered her. The one pivotal point in her plan was that everything come together quickly. One blazing night of passion could easily be dismissed and forgotten. But if she were to continue to invite him back one night a month, several months running, then he just might catch on to what she was doing.
Still, when it had come to interpreting her actions in the past, Steve had shown a shocking lack of insight. Thankfully their troubles had never intruded in the bedroom. Their marriage relationship had been a jumbled mess of doubts and misunderstandings, accusations and regrets, but their love life had always been vigorous and lusty right up until the divorce, astonishing as it seemed now.
* * *
At precisely seven the following evening, Carol walked into Denny’s Restaurant on Seattle’s Capitol Hill. The first year she and Steve had been married, they’d had dinner there once a month. Money had been tight because they’d been saving for a down payment on the house, and an evening out, even if it was only Saturday night at Denny’s, had been a real treat.
Two steps into the restaurant Carol spotted her former husband sitting in a booth by the window. She paused and experienced such a wealth of emotion that advancing even one step more would have been impossible. Steve had no right to look this good—far better than she remembered. In the thirteen months since she’d last seen him, he’d changed considerably. Matured. His features were sharper, clearer, more intense. His lean good looks were all the more prominent, his handsome masculine features vigorous and tanned even in December. A few strands of gray hair streaked his temple, adding a distinguished air.
His gaze caught hers and Carol sucked in a deep, calming breath, her steps nearly faltering as she advanced toward him. His eyes had changed the most, she decided. Where once they had been warm and caressing, now they were cool and calculating. They narrowed on her, his mistrust shining through as bright as any beacon.
Carol experienced a moment of panic as his gaze seemed to strip away the last shreds of her pride. It took all her willpower to force a smile to her lips.
“Thank you for coming,” she said, and slipped into the red upholstered seat across from him.
The waitress came with a glass coffeepot, and Carol turned over her cup, which the woman promptly filled after placing menus on the table.
“It feels cold enough to snow,” Carol said as a means of starting conversation. It was eerie that she could have been married to Steve all those years and feel as if he were little more than a stranger. He gave her that impression now. This hard, impassive man was one she didn’t know nearly as well as the one who had once been her lover, her friend and her husband.
“You’re looking fit,” Steve said after a moment, a spark of admiration glinting in his gaze.
“Thank you.” A weak smile hovered over her lips. “You, too. How’s the Navy treating you?”
“Good.”
“Are you still on the Atlantis?”
He nodded shortly.
Silence.
Carol groped for something more to say. “It was a surprise to discover that Lindy’s living in Seattle.”
“Did she tell you she married Rush?”
Carol noted the way his brows drew together and darkened his face momentarily when he mentioned the fact. “I didn’t realize Lindy even knew Rush,” Carol said, and took a sip of the coffee.
“They were married two weeks after they met. Lord, I can’t believe it yet.”
“Two weeks? That doesn’t sound anything like Rush. I remember him as being so methodical about everything.”
Steve’s frown relaxed, but only a little. “Apparently they fell in love.”
Carol knew Steve well enough to recognize the hint of sarcasm in his voice, as if he were telling her what a mockery that emotion was. In their instance it had certainly been wasted. Sadly wasted.
“Are they happy?” That was the important thing as far as Carol was concerned.
“They went through a rough period a while back, but since the Mitchell docked they seem to