Page 33 of The Playboy and the Widow
When it came to women, Cliff wasn’t being conceited when he admitted he could pick and choose. Yet the one woman who filled his thoughts was a young widow with two preteens. He’d been so astonished at the desire he felt for Diana that he’d phoned his brother in California and told him about her.
Rich had listened, chuckled knowingly and laughed outright when Cliff mentioned that Diana was a widow with two daughters. Then he’d made some derogatory comment about it being time for Cliff to find a real woman. Cliff had been vaguely disappointed in the conversation. Subconsciously he’d wanted his brother to tell him to wise up and stay away from a woman with children. Cliff had almostwantedRich to tell him to avoid Diana and insist that a relationship with her would be nothing but trouble. Maybe that was what Cliff wanted to hear, but it wasn’t what he felt.
Even if Rich had advised him to break things off with her, he doubted that he would have been able to. She was in his blood now, increasing the potency of his attraction each time they were together. That evening as he’d sat in his office, he hadn’t been able to get his mind off Diana. Twice he’d picked up the phone to call her. Twice he’d decided against it. He didn’t like what was happening to him. No one else seemed to notice that he was sinking fast. And there wasn’t a life preserver in sight.
Sitting in the overstuffed chair beside Cliff, Diana took a sip of her tea and attempted to put some order to her thoughts. She was happy to see Cliff. More than happy. But a little apprehensive, too.
“How was your day?” she asked finally when he didn’t seem inclined to wade into easy conversation.
“Busy. How about yours?”
“I went in for a job interview with the school district this morning.” Cliff couldn’t possibly understand what courage that had taken. She hadn’t worked outside the home since Joan had been born, and had no real credentials. “I’m hoping they’ll hire me as a teacher’s aide. That way I’ll have the same hours as the girls.”
“Do you think you’ll get the job?”
Diana answered with a soft shrug. “I don’t know. The principal from Joan and Katie’s school gave me a recommendation, since I’ve done a substantial amount of volunteer work there. The last school levy passed and the district’s been given the go-ahead to hire ten teacher’s aides. I have no idea how many applications they took or how many they interviewed.”
“If that doesn’t pan out, I’m sure I could find a part-time position for you in my law firm.” The minute Cliff made the offer, he regretted it. Having Diana in his office two or three times a week could end up being a source of personal conflict.
“Thank you, Cliff, but, no.”
“No?” This woman continued to astonish him. He’d expected her to jump at the offer. “Why not?”
“It’s downtown, and I’d prefer to be as close to the girls as I can in case they get sick and need to come home... .” That was the first plausible excuse to surface. Although it was the truth, Diana didn’t have a great deal of choice when it came to finding employment. She’d turned down his offer because she preferred not to work in the same place as Cliff.
“I can understand that,” he said, relieved and irritated at the same time. Diana had him so twisted up in knots he couldn’t judge his own emotions anymore. He shouldn’t have come tonight, he knew that, but staying away had been impossible.
“I’m pleased you stopped by,” Diana said next.
He was happy she was pleased, because he was more confused than ever. He had thought that if he stopped off and they talked, then maybe he’d know what was happening to him. Wrong. One look at Diana and all he wanted to do was make love to her.
“I want you to know I feel bad about our conversation the other day.” Diana felt as though she were sailing into uncharted waters, her destination unknown. Their telephone conversation had gone poorly, and she wasn’t sure whose fault it was. Cliff had kept insisting on seeing her again, and she had kept refusing, finally giving in. More than that, it seemed that Cliff had been expecting her to be angry because he’d had to cancel their dinner date. She hadn’t been. Then Cliff had sounded as though he’d wanted to start an argument and was confused when she wouldn’t be drawn into a verbal battle.
“You feel bad because I canceled dinner?” Cliff asked.
“No, because I had to turn down your offer for another date.”
Cliff felt more than a little chagrined. He’d admit it—her refusal had irked him. For all his suave sophistication, he wasn’t accustomed to having a woman turn him down. It had taken a fair amount of soul-searching to decide he wanted to see Diana again—without Joan and Katie. Her rejection, no matter how good her reasons, had been a blow to his considerable pride.
“You turned me down for dinnerandFriday night,” he reminded her.
“I thought I explained...”
“I know.”
Diana lowered her gaze to her mug of tea, which she was gripping tightly with both hands. “You don’t know how hard that was.”
“Then why did you?”
“For the very reasons I told you.”
His brow puckered into a deep frown.
“I like you, Cliff. Probably more than I should.” She didn’t know what weapon she was handing him by admitting her feelings, but she was too old for silly games, too wise to get tangled up in a web of emotion and too intelligent not to look at him with her eyes wide open. They weren’t right for each other, but that hadn’t seemed to matter. They’d weathered their relationship much better than she had ever imagined they would. If they were going to continue to see each other, then she preferred that they be honest about their feelings. Honest and up-front.
“I like you, too, Diana,” he admitted softly, his eyes holding her all too effectively. “I’m not sure I’m ready for what’s developing between us, but I want it. I want you.”
The muscles in her stomach constricted with his words. She’d asked for his honesty, and now she was forced to deal with her own reactions to it. Cliff frightened her because he made her feel again; he’d reawakened the deep womanly part of her that craved touch. Intuitively she’d known the first time he’d kissed her how potent his caress would be. In the years since Stan had died, she’d effectively cast the hunger for love and desire from her life.
