Free Cautious Lover by Stephanie James Page B

hastened out to her car. If only he really were my Jess, she thought. Completely, une quivocally, wholeheartedly mine. Damned if she was going to let herself be married for her cooking and other convenient skills!
    The interior of the car was cold, and the engine resisted starting. When she finally got it going, Elly sat in the darkness for a few minutes, letting the heater warm up. Then, with the headlights dim to minimize the glare off the fog, she started down the narrow country road.
    It was slow going, and Elly told herself to relax and take her time. The fog ebbed and swirled around the car, but she could still make out the edges of the road as well as several yards of pavement in front of her. She would be safe enough if she didn't rush.
    The lights of the Palmer's farmhouse disappeared after a short distance, and then there was only the reflected glare of the car's headlights. Elly turned on the radio for company. The road had no other traffic.
    She was singing along to one of her favorite country and western songs when the car's engine sputtered and died. Elly let the vehicle drift to the side of the road. Stifling a small anxiety attack, she shut off both the heater and the radio and tried to restart the engine. It became clear very quickly that the task was hopeless. She seemed to be out of gas.
    The next thing that became clear was that the only way to get home was to walk. Elly took a long time reaching that decision. The prospect was not a pleasant one. Briefly she considered hiking back toward the Palmers' and then decided that, she was about equidistant from her home and that of her friends. She might as well head home.
    One of these days, Elly promised herself as she climbed reluctantly out of the car and buttoned her parka, she was going to remember to carry a flashlight in the glove compartment. Things like this probably never happened to Jess. But if they did he'd have been better prepared to handle them.
    "One of the advantages of not being married," Elly lectured herself bracingly as she started down the forbidding road. "You won't have to listen to any men yell at you when you get home a little late tonight." You had to look on the bright side.
    Jess almost pounced on the phone when it rang that evening in his Portland apartment. He'd been trying to get hold of Elly since six o'clock and had been increasingly frustrated over her failure to answer the phone. She was almost always home when he called. He realized he'd begun to take the fact for granted. In what he knew Elly would refer to as typical male fashion, frustration had turned into irritation, which was rapidly metamorphosing into outright anger.
    What Elly wouldn't have guessed, and Jess knew he didn't want to admit, was that the anger was being fed by a fear he dared not put into words. By the time he picked up the receiver, however, his voice was dark and rough with the combination of emotions.
    "Mr. Winter, this is Mary at your service."
    His answering service. Elly never used that number unless she couldn't reach him at home. He'd been home all evening. Jess closed his eyes briefly as the strange anger in him threatened to increase.
    "Go ahead, Mary," he said to the faceless woman he'd never met but who faithfully answered his work number and relayed messages.
    "You just had a call from a man who refused to leave his name. He said you'd know who it was." Mary's tone said she strongly disapproved of callers who wouldn't leave proper information.
    Jess's fingers locked on the receiver. "Read it to me."
    "He said to tell you it was going to be an interesting night on the coast and that he'll have her home by morning."
    Jess stared blankly at the white vase full of some sort of tall, artificial grass fronds that stood against the far wall of his living room. He'd never liked the vase or the dull-colored grass, but it had been too much trouble to get rid of it. After all, he'd told himself on countless occasions, he'd be moving soon. He'd be