Tempest in Eden

"A retirement home for aging nude models."

She lit into him with both fists flying. Laughing, he dodged them and finally managed to capture her flailing arms before she could do much damage. She was slow to be subdued, but he finally held her against him, his arms across her back barring her escape.

"I thought that'd get a reaction out of you. Actually the funds will go toward outfitting a youth center."

"You consider that to be a worthy cause?"

"Very much so." His eyes impaled her with lances of brilliant light. "Please come, Shay. I think it's important to us that you do."

Yes, it would be important to them. Could she adjust to his lifestyle? Could he bend to her free way of thinking? For some reason she didn't resent this experiment of his. She herself needed the answers to questions that had plagued her for weeks. Were there any terms on which they could come together?

While she was still mulling over her decision, they left the cab and entered Grand Central Station. He didn't press her; he gave her time and space to sort out her thoughts.

"Our parents will hear about it," she said after Ian had bought her train ticket and they were waiting in the most private spot they could find.

"I thought of that, too. How do you feel about it?"

She shrugged. "I guess they have to know sooner or later."

"Okay. We'll let them know beforehand. I certainly don't want to be furtive about it."

"No." She stared blindly at the ribbing of his sweater directly in front of her. He was waiting for her answer. When she came right down to it, all her justifications and rationalizations were just that. The heart of the matter was that she wanted to go. She wanted to be with him. The anger and resentment she had manufactured out of her hurt had dissolved the moment she'd seen him pacing outside Robert Glad's studio.

All her life she'd felt a loneliness, a separateness from other people, but she hadn't known what loneliness was until the past three week

s. If only for a little while, she wanted to believe she and Ian could belong together.

"Shay."

He whispered her name, and despite the noise and bustle around them, she heard. Lifting her face to his, she welcomed the firm pressure of his lips on hers.

His tongue slipped between them like a predator assured of the kill. Each shallow, rapid thrust sent an electrical charge missiling through her body.

"This is coercion," she said breathlessly against his throat when at last he freed her mouth.

"Can you be coerced?" he asked in a hot, fervent whisper that rushed into her ear and raised gooseflesh on her skin.

She pushed slightly away from him and looked beguilingly up at him. "I've never had a fur coat. What does one wear under a mink?"

Shay caught an early Saturday morning train. Ian was waiting at the station for her. Upright minister or not, he hugged her heartily and kissed her soundly when she stepped off the train.

The town was charming, absolutely charming. A picture of it belonged in an almanac as the stereotypical Connecticuttownship, Shay decided. Built around a green, the town spread out over several symmetrical blocks. Even the architecture of the commercial buildings was quaint. The colonial houses could have come out of a history book.

Driving her down the tree-lined streets, Ian proudly showed off his community. "This is the high school. Championship basketball team two years in a row. The center is a member of my church. And that's Griffin's Hardware Store. Mr. Griffin is a deacon. You'll see the church later."

He pulled his station wagon into the driveway of a two-story colonial house set on a vast lawn colorfully littered with fallen autumn leaves. It was built of white clapboard, and hunter green shutters flanked with windows.

"Welcome to the parsonage," he said, cutting the motor and watching closely for her reaction.

"This is where you live?" she asked in disbelief. "It's beautiful." Shay hadn't known what to expect, but it hadn't been anything on so grand a scale.

He laughed. "Don't be too impressed. It's belonged to the church since before I was born. It needs a new roof, and the plumbing's contrary at best."

He came around to her door to assist her out. "Let's go inside."

A wonderful smell greeted Shay the moment Ian flung open the front door. "Mrs. Higgins?" he called.

An elderly woman hurried from one of the back rooms—Shay guessed the kitchen—wiping her hands on a towel. "Hello. Is this the young lady?" she asked without compunction.