risked so much.
She sat stiffly on the edge of the bed and watched him rise from the chair. As he came toward her, she sensed his suppressed rage in the corded tension of his neck muscles, but, at the same time, the soft compassion in his eyes made her understand that his anger wasn't directed at her.
He gathered her into his arms, and when he spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. 'I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I'm so very, very sorry.'
Dropping his head, he began to kiss her, the warmth of healing in the touch of his lips. Right then, she wanted to tell him she loved him, but his kiss deepened and he began to caress her. Before long, she was lost to reason as he vanquished the shadows of the past with the sweet, deep stroking of his body.
It was nearly three in the morning before he drove her home. She'd put her bondage dress back on, along with his sweatshirt and her evening coat. After the emotional turmoil of the night, she felt very much at peace, and he, too, seemed relaxed.
'You're going to be exhausted tomorrow,' she said as she leaned against his arm.
'I don't need much sleep. Even when I was a little kid, I'd crawl out of bed and sneak outside.'
'You rascal.'
'I was a stubborn little cuss. My mother took a switch to me whenever she caught me, but no matter how much she beat me, I kept doin' it.'
His tone had been mild, but she lifted her head slightly. 'Your mother beat you?'
A small muscle throbbed in his jaw. 'My parents weren't exactly into modern child-raising techniques. They were backwoods people, teenagers when they had to get married. They both pretty much resented being stuck with a baby.'
'I'm sorry.'
'You don't have to look so sad. It got better when I was older. My father was real proud of me once I started to play ball.'
She experienced a flash of rage toward a father who had needed a Scoreboard to measure out love. 'What about your mother?'
'She was an alcoholic. On her good days, she was proud of me, too. They were killed in an auto accident my freshman year in college.' She understood what it was costing him to reveal so much of himself to her, and she remained silent so he could tell this his own way.
'If you want to know the truth, I felt like I'd lost them a long time before that. It's strange. A couple of months ago, this guy was tailing me.' He told her about Ray Hardesty, the Stars' player who had been cut from the team, and his father's apparent vendetta against Dan. 'I haven't seen Hardesty since, so I assume he came to his senses. But when I had that man up against the side of his van, I felt like I was looking into my old man's eyes all over again. It was obvious that Hardesty had never made anything of himself, and he'd been living his life through his son. He wasn't grieving for Ray; he was grieving for himself. That's sick.'
She shuddered at the idea of Dan's having someone stalking him.
His voice grew gruff. 'That's why-It's a hard thing to explain, but family's important to me. A real family with kids and parents who care about each other.'
'Was that why your marriage broke up?'
'Val never had any interest in kids. I'm not blaming her because things didn't work out, you understand. It was more my fault than hers. I should have gotten my priorities sorted out before I married her. She always said I was jealous of her career, but that wasn't it at all. Val's dedication to her work was one of the things I most admired about her. But I wanted her to care about family, too, and I can't ever let myself make a mistake like that again with a woman. I don't want my kids growing up with the kind of parents I had. I don't want to be the kind of father who makes his kid feel as if he has to score a touchdown before he can get any affection. And I want them to have a mother who's a real mother.'
She gazed at him as he turned into her drive, trying to understand what he meant by that. Was he simply sharing his past with her because she'd told him about her own, or was there a deeper meaning behind this conversation? The intimacy between them was too new and fragile for her to ask.
He came around to help her out, and when they reached her door, he kissed her temple, then her lips. Long minutes passed before they drew apart. 'I'm going to miss you.'
'We see each other every day.'
'I know, but it's not the same.' He brushed a lock of hair back from her cheek with his thumb. 'I'll be
She smiled. 'I won't.'
'You keep your chin up this week, hear?' He stroked her hair and gave her a gaze so tender she felt as if he were making love to her all over again. 'Honey, I understand how much you've got riding on Saturday. We're gonna do our best.'
'I know that.'
For a moment she thought he was going to say more. Instead, he squeezed her hand, kissed her again, and began to walk away.
'Dan?' As he turned back, her voice dropped to a gentle whisper. 'Kick some Buffalo butt for me, will you?'
His response was as soft as an Alabama breeze. 'Sure enough, sweetheart.'
Even though the pace was unbelievably hectic, Phoebe felt as if she danced through the rest of the week. She found herself laughing for no reason at all and flirting with everyone-male, female, young, old, it made no difference. She sailed through her interviews with the press and even managed to be polite to Reed when he called with good luck wishes that rang hollow because he couldn't quite hide his frustration at how long it was taking him to get his hands on the Stars.
The more she mulled over Dan's revelations about his childhood, the more she wanted to believe that he had been sounding her out to discover her feelings about having a family. His disclosures allowed her to unearth all those precious dreams she had kept locked away for years, dreams of a husband who loved her and of a house filled with children who would never know what it was like to grow up unloved.
The few times she and Dan passed each other in the hallway, she felt something warm and wonderful travel between them. Still, her love for him frightened her. How was she going to put herself back together if he didn't return that love? For so long she had lived in the shadows. Was it possible that she could finally walk in the sunshine?
The Stars-Bills game was scoreless at the end of the first quarter, and as Phoebe left the field and entered the skybox, she was so tense she wished she could spend the next three quarters hiding out with a VCR and an old Doris Day movie. She took a glass of tomato juice from the bartender and watched as the skybox's two television sets faded to a Nike commercial.
'You're always complaining about having to watch the game with men, so I've brought you a companion.'
She turned to see Ron standing at her side accompanied by a young woman with curly red hair and a friendly, rather shy smile.
'My friend here was stuck in the VIP skybox next door, but the cigarette smoke was giving her trouble.'
'I hope you don't mind,' the woman said. 'Smoke makes me wheeze, and Ron said you didn't allow it in here.'
'I don't mind at all.' There was something endearing about her small, almost elfin features and freckled nose. Phoebe decided she was a definite improvement over the tall socialites Ron had been dating lately and found herself automatically returning her smile.
One of Ron's assistants popped up at his side, and he excused himself.
'I feel like I'm barging in,' the young woman said.
'Nonsense. I'm glad to have company. Maybe you can distract me. I was just trying to figure out how I was going to get through the rest of the game without either throwing up or fainting.' She extended her hand. 'I'm Phoebe Somerville.'
'Sharon Anderson.' The woman returned her handshake.
'Let me get you something to drink.' Phoebe led her over to the bar where Sharon requested a Diet Pepsi. 'You're a two-fisted drinker like I am.'
