wore clothes with the casual style of one who gave no thought to them and still looked marvelous. A disciplined body and trained grace made it inevitable. His hair had been combed, but defied order. He paused briefly, even in stillness communicating motion. Asher’s heartbeat was a dull, quick thud.
“Oh, there’s Ty!” Jess sprang up, hurrying across the lobby to meet him. “I didn’t get to congratulate you. You were absolutely wonderful.”
Though his arm slipped around her, Jess saw that his eyes had drifted over her head. Without turning, she knew whom they focused on.
Asher didn’t see, nor did she speak.
“Well, Starbuck, you earned your pay today,” Madge commented. “The Dean and I are going to the Lido to hold Michael’s hand.”
“Tell him I lost three pounds on the court today.” He spoke to her, lightly enough, but his eyes never left Asher’s.
“I don’t think that’s going to make him feel a hell of a lot better,” she returned, giving her husband a nudge as she rose. “Well, we’re off to fight for a taxi. Anyone going our way?”
“As a matter of fact,” Mac began, picking up the hint easily, “Jess and I were on our way out too.”
“Want a lift, Ty?” Madge’s husband gave her an offended look as she ground her heel into his foot. But he shut his mouth firmly when Madge shot him a deadly glance.
Even to a man who rarely comprehended subtleties, it became obvious there were things being said without words. The little group had simply ceased to exist for Ty and Asher. After a hard look at the silent couple The Dean straightened his glasses and grinned at his wife.
“I guess not, huh?”
“You’re so quick, babe.” Madge began shepherding the rest toward the doors. “Anyone know some French obscenities? It’s the best way to get a cab in the rain.”
Asher rose slowly. From behind her she could hear the ding of a bell on the desk and the whoosh of the storm as the doors were opened then quickly closed. For a moment Ty thought she looked like something that should be enclosed in glass. Not to be touched, not to be soiled. She reached out her hand.
When he took it, it was warm. Flesh and blood.
In unspoken agreement they turned away from the doors and walked to the elevator.
Chapter 6
They didn’t speak, but then they didn’t need to. With one hand still holding hers, Ty pushed the button for his floor. The elevator began its silent rise. Once, the hand in his trembled lightly. He found it unbearably exciting. The numbers above their heads flashed ponderously until at last the car stopped. When the doors slid open they stepped into the carpeted hall together.
Asher heard the key jingle against loose change as Ty reached into his pocket. She heard the click of the lock before he released her hand. The choice was still hers. She stepped out of the light into the dimness of the room.
It smelled of him. That was her first thought. The air carried Ty’s lingering fragrance. Something sharp, something vital. Something she had never forgotten. All at once her nerves began to jump. The poise that had carried her this far fell away. Searching for something to say, she wandered the room. It was untidy, with a shirt thrown here, shoes tossed there. She knew if she opened the closet, she would find a neat stack of rackets, the only semblance of order. Instead, she moved to the window. Rain ran like tears down the glass.
“It’s going to storm all night.”
As if to accent her words, lightning split the sky. Asher counted to five then heard the thunder answer. Hundreds of lights spread through the darkness. The city was there, crowded, moving—distant. Staring through the wet glass, she waited for Ty to speak.
Silence. The patter of rain on the window. The distant hum of traffic. Another moan of thunder. Unable to bear it, Asher turned.
He was watching her. The small bedside lamp threw both light and shadow into the room. His stance was neither relaxed nor
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