From the Heart

in my library,” she said when both glasses were full.
    Laughing, he clinked his rim against hers. “You’ll have the first copy,” he promised, then drained his glass.
    “How do you feel, Slade?” Sipping more cautiously, Jessica watched him refill his glass. “How do you feel really?”
    He studied the bubbles in the wine as if searching for the word. “Free,” he said quietly. “I feel free.” Shaking his head, he began to wander the room. “After all these years of doing what I had to, I’ll have the chance to do what I want to. The money just means that I won’t starve doing it even after this last year’s tuition is paid. But now the door’s open. It’s open,” he repeated, “and I can walk through it.”
    Jessica moistened her lips and swallowed. “You’ll quit the force now?”
    “I intended to next year.” He toyed with the wick of a candle on the piano. A restlessness crept into the other feelings—a restlessness he hadn’t permitted himself to acknowledge before. “This means it can be sooner—much sooner. I’ll be a civilian.”
    She thought of the gun he secreted somewhere in his rooms upstairs. Relief flowed through her to be immediately followed by anxiety. “I guess it’ll take some getting used to.”
    “I’ll manage.”
    “You’ll . . . resign right away?”
    “No need to wait,” he considered. “I’ve got enough to get by on until the contract’s signed. I’ll need time if they want rewrites. Then there’s this novel to finish and another I’ve been kicking around. I wonder how it’ll feel to write full-time instead of grabbing snatches.”
    “It’s what you were meant to do,” she murmured.
    “As soon as this is over, I’m going to find out.”
    “Over?” Her eyes fixed on his, but he wasn’t looking at her. “You’re staying?”
    “What?” Distracted, he brought his gaze back to her. The expression on her face made him frown. “What did you say?”
    “I thought you’d turn over the assignment to someone else.” Jessica reached for the bottle to add champagne to a glass that was already full. “You’ll want to get back to New York right away.”
    With deliberate care, Slade set down his glass. “I don’t leave things until they’re finished.”
    “No.” She set the bottle back down. “No, of course you wouldn’t.”
    “You think I’d walk out of here and leave you?”
    The anger in his voice had her taking a quick sip of champagne. “I think,” she said slowly, “when someone’s about to get what they’ve worked for, waited for, they shouldn’t take any chances.”
    He went to her and took the glass from her hand, then set it beside the half-filled bottle. “I think you should shut the hell up.” When she started to speak, he cupped her face in one strong hand. “I mean it, Jess.”
    “You’re a fool to stay when you have a choice,” she blurted out.
    His eyes narrowed with temper before he brought his mouth to hers for one brief, hard kiss. “You’re a fool to think I have one.”
    “But you do,” Jessica corrected more calmly. “I told you once before, we always have a choice.”
    “All right.” Slade nodded, never taking his eyes off hers. “Say the word and I’ll go back to New York today . . . if you’ll go with me,” he added when she started to speak. Her answer was a quick, defiant shake of the head. “Then we’re in this together until the finish.”
    Jessica went into his arms and clung. She needed him to stay as badly as she wanted him to go. For now, she would only think of tomorrows. “Just remember, I gave you your chance. You won’t get another one.” Tilting her head back,she smiled at him. “One day I’m going to remind you of it. We’re in this together.”
    He nodded again, not noting that she had edited his phrase. “Okay, let’s get some breakfast to go with this champagne before Betsy completely writes you off.”

10
    F or Jessica, the day crawled. The confinement alone would have been torture to her. She hated seeing the sun pour through the windows while she remained trapped inside. Even the beach was off limits, so she was prevented from learning if she could walk there again without looking over her shoulder.
    Thinking of her shop only brought on a dull, nagging headache. The one thing she’d conceived and built by herself had been taken out of her hands. Perhaps she would never feel the same pride in it, the same dedication to making it the best she was capable