A Lasting Love by Mary Tate Engels

in
his. "Just don't bring him home with you."
    Her alarmed eyes met his dark, brooding ones.
He winked and was gone. As Reid strode out to his car, a million
thoughts swarmed in her head. Predominant was the notion that he
was perhaps a dream, a figment of her imagination. And
that her dreams had finally come true.
    Loren turned around to face the wrath of a cat who
had been ignored far too long. “Come here, Angel baby,” she cooed
and stooped down to pet her. But Angel turned and walked away, her
tail high and the tip flicking.
     
    With surprisingly little effort Loren convinced Mark
that she was too ill to spend the evening with him. It left her
with an uneasy feeling. Perhaps she was getting too good at lying.
She was filled with guilt; that is, until she saw Reid again. Then
she forgot everyone. She didn't care how she managed to see him,
just so she did.
    When Reid arrived on her doorstep with two huge bags
of groceries, she laughingly stepped aside. "What's all this? Are
you staying a week?"
    He smiled wickedly. "Might."
    "Oh, no, you're not." She followed him into the
kitchen. Reid's jeans hugged his slim hips and muscular thighs. His
casual cream-colored linen shirt was devastatingly open at the
neck. He placed the grocery bags on the kitchen
cabinet, then turned to drink in Lo ren's
appearance.
    Loren wore sporty white linen slacks and a navy
pull over. One look at her happy smile, and they both
knew she hadn't stewed for long over her lies to Mark.
Their eyes met magnetically, agreeing silently. In another moment
Reid had cleared the space between them, gathering her into his strong arms, kissing her soft brown hair. She pressed her head against his chest, inhaling his
masculine, leathery fragrance, stirred by the
throbbing of his heart against hers.
    "We're just beginning, baby. I promise," he
murmured earnestly against her ear. And she believed
it, because she wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to
believe his prom ises.
    They spent the evening cooking and laughing
together, just like old times. They shared the meal
and a bottle of wine. They talked about wonderful
memories and what the six-year separation had wrought
in their lives. But they didn't mention the future. It
was too nebulous, scary. It was something neither wanted to face
right now. The present was marvelous together. Together, at last.
    At the end of the evening, Loren didn't have
the will, the desire, to ask Reid to leave. And so he
didn't.
    Another night to close the door on Angel. She did not
like this man and how much time her was taking of her person.
     
    The following night, Reid paced the shiny
Italian-tiled floor and searched through the guests for a certain
someone. A full-bos omed black-and-white-attired server
stopped before him with her tray, offering another
tall gin and tonic. Without hesitation he replaced his
empty glass and took the full one. He was obviously
preoccupied and ignored the shape ly young woman. With
a petulant pout, she sought admiration
elsewhere.
    Reid tore his brooding eyes away from the door
and gazed over the crowd. They were gathered in small
groups, drinks in hand, politely discussing politics. What else?
They were a staid-looking bunch, each and every one thinking his or
her job was absolutely crucial to the total system. Everyone in
government believed that. Everyone in the whole damn city of
Washington, D.C., was vitally important. Or so they
thought.
    Considerately arriving on time, Reid had
introduced himself to Packston George, the host of this intimate
little affair. Pac was independently wealthy, owning homes in
L.A. and Miami. If they were comparable to this marble and tile
edifice in Washington's fashionable suburb, they would more
suitably be called mansions. He was the newly appointed Deputy
Chief of the Interior and God knows what he knew about the
Interior's problems. Ah, such was politics. Obviously Pac neither knew
nor cared about Arizona's water problems. Reid had his work cut out
for him and it