Free A Lasting Love by Mary Tate Engels Page A

time
I doubted it. But now, realistically, I know he's right."
    Reid looked at her silently, his eyes deep and
sorrowful. Or was that just what Loren wanted to see in his
reactions—sympathy, remorse, agony? They were all there. But they
failed to give her the satisfaction she always thought they would.
She had wanted to punish him as she had been punished. And here,
Reid seemed quite shaken by the revelation. He appeared truly
disconcerted by the idea that they could have produced a
child, if only —but life doesn't depend on
‘if only.’
    Loren continued to explain, her tone dull. "I was so
hurt that you would go directly from my arms to hers, that I
couldn't think straight. The pregnancy was just another reason to
hate you."
    "Hate me?" Reid raised his dark eyebrows. "I
don't . . . can't believe that,
Loren."
    She smiled ruefully. "I wanted to. It would have been
easier if I could have despised you. But you know, I couldn't do
that." Her voice trailed to a whisper.
    His finger lifted her chin. "I didn't spend last
night with a woman who hated me. Or this morning." His crooked
smile was half teasing, half serious.
    Her modest grin matched his, allowing the crisp air
between them to soften. "I guess I'm just a sucker for old love
stories."
    His kiss was gentle as he teased her lips. "Our love
story is just beginning, baby."
    She shook her head and moved away from him. "There
are too many complications to our lives now, Reid. You have your
father to care for and a very different lifestyle out West. I have
my career here in Washington. Then, there is—"
    "Mark?"
    She sighed. "Yes, Mark."
    "What is your relationship with him?"
    She turned away. "We're supposed to get married
sometime."
    There was an uncomfortable pause, then Reid asked the
obvious question. "Do you love him?"
    Loren laughed dryly. "What difference does that make?
Mark and I have many of the same interests. We get along nicely.
And he's here in Washington. He understands me and my needs. I
understand his."
    Reid looked at her with hard, cold eyes. "What
difference? It makes a hell of a difference, Loren! How can you
think of marrying him if you don't love him?"
    "I loved you once, and it didn't lead to marriage. I
don't think love is necessarily a requirement!"
    "How can you consider marrying one man when your love
is for another?" His words cut into her.
    Defiantly Loren shot back, "But it isn't! I don't
love another!"
    Reid stepped close, leaning toward her until she
backed against the kitchen cabinet. When there was no place else to
go, he bent down and caressed her lips with his own. His hands
braced on the cabinet above her head. When the brief, orderly kiss
was over, his lips curled into a formidable grin. "Oh, Loren, you
can't respond to my kiss like that and convince me you love another
man."
    Instantly his vicious methods registered and Loren
furiously raised a hand to slap him. He caught her hand in mid-air,
then, grasping the other one, pinned them both to her back, kissing
her soundly again. With her arms so caught he pressed his own chest
tauntingly against her arched, full breasts. Her body refused to
fight his advances and continued to respond, despite her wishes. A
tightness grew within her as his torment elicited the desired
reactions from her. He could tell she still responded to him!
    When he finally released her, Loren moaned angrily.
"Damn you, Reid Mecina. You're a devil to manipulate me like
that."
    "Guilty," he murmured against her cheek. "I just
wanted you to see how explosively we react together, Loren. The
combustible chemistry is still there, so don't deny it."
    "Then I am the biggest fool of all. Please leave. I
need to be alone to think and to sort this out."
    He released her hands, but stood close. "Okay. I
guess you do need some time. So do I. I'm staying at the Fairfax.
I'll gather my things and be back later."
    "No. You're not staying here. Not this time, Reid."
Her voice had a firmness that was unfamiliar to him.
    "You