Her eyes opened, darkening to the troubled gray of storm clouds off the Maine coast. She was feeling guilty again. He wished there was a way he could convince her that his sudden abstinence wasn't her fault, that he loved and desired her as much as ever. But how could he, without explaining what he was? He couldn't. But at least he could reassure her.
He reached out again to stroke her hair, and whispered, "You have no idea how happy you make me."
"Really?" The sparkle returned to her eyes.
"Really. Just having you near me is all I need."
She laughed nervously and glanced away. "Funny, I was just... Sometimes, I almost feel you can read my mind."
"Because I am devoted to pleasing you," he answered, too quickly. Damn! She'd given him the perfect opportunity, and he'd wasted it. The instinct to hide, to protect his secret, had been too strong. But maybe he could still recover. "We're united by— "
"Were you going to show me how to use this computer program?"
She didn't want to listen. Very well. He wouldn't push it. Sooner or later, the topic would come up again. In the mean time, he'd show her his feelings in another way.
"Yes. It's pretty basic. Type in the name of the person you're looking for, and the person's current location lights up on the screen." He demonstrated, typing her name. A blue dot blinked on the map. He continued by typing Mrs. Waters' name. "You can even pick a second person, and find the fastest way to get from the first person's location to the second's."
"Wow! Look at that!" Rebecca leaned closer to the screen, tracing the line between her blue dot and the red dot blinking in the residential section. "It does stairs and everything."
"It's quite a program, all right." Desmond shut down that program and started another. "But I think you'll like this one better."
She relaxed in his arms, watching the screen. When she turned back to face him, a galaxy of stars shone in her eyes.
"A word processing program."
"Mm-hmm." He couldn't help himself. He brushed her lips with a light kiss. It took so little to please her. She didn't realize he'd hire an army of skilled craftsmen to hand set movable type if that's what was needed to keep her happy, and with him. "And it has built-in fax capabilities. So you can send in your stories without ever leaving home."
She laughed. "I should have known you'd have an ulterior motive."
Turning away, she put the program through it's paces.
"Do you use it much?"
"No. I draft the occasional report or announcement. Nothing much."
"From what I've seen, that's still pretty rare for an executive. Most of them prefer the personal touch of a secretary slaving away for them."
"I guess I'm unique, then. I've always been fascinated by computers. I remember when the first one was invented— " He stopped himself, but she didn't seem to notice his slip. She must have thought he was talking about personal computers.
"Me, too. We had one in our school. The old kind, that used a tape recorder to store programs. That's part of the reason I decided to become an engineer."
"An engineer?" He swiveled her away from the computer so he could see her face. No wonder she'd been so inventive in breaking out of her suite. "You studied to be an engineer?"
"For two years." She shrugged. "I thought I'd like engineering, because it was about absolutes. Equations worked the same every time, and the numbers didn't lie."
"So why'd you switch to journalism?"
"Engineering's only absolute in theory. In practice, it's all about compromises. I didn't want to compromise."
A chill rolled down his back at her steely expression.
"You don't compromise in journalism, do you?"
"No. Never. I tell the story, the best way I can. I'll take an editor's suggestions when I'm writing, of course, if it won't destroy the article. But after I've sold the story, they're free to make whatever other changes they want. That's why I only work with editors who I know respect the truth as much as I do."
He smiled and nodded and said something polite about sticking to one's guns. But his heart felt as if it had just been dipped in ice water. He'd been right not to trust her. Because no matter how much he loved and trusted Rebecca the woman, he could never forget she was also Rebecca the reporter.
Chapter 14