Читать онлайн книгу "Prince Of The City"

Prince Of The City
Nikki Benjamin


HE WAS SEXY, POWERFUL…AND ABOUT TO PUT HER OUT OF BUSINESS!Bill Harper had to be stopped. Eloise Vale didn't care if he was the mayor of New York–he was about to cut funding to her precious birth center! He was also her once-upon-atime lover. And being whirled into his arms at the Mayor's Ball was making the single mother of triplets almost believe in fairy tales again.Bill might be the most powerful man in the city, but he yearned to be the only man in Eloise's life. After her three sons, of course. He would show the down-to-earth widow that there was always room for negotiation–and a love that was growing stronger by the minute….









As Bill settled close to her on the richly upholstered leather seat, her heartbeat quickened.


The warning bells that should have been ringing all along finally went off in her head, but it was too late—much, much too late. They were alone together, shut off from the world, if only momentarily. And Mayor Harper—Bill—her former friend and lover, was taking her small hand and folding it into his much larger, warmer one.

“I haven’t told you yet how good it is to see you again, have I, Eloise? Not just good, great,” he said in the same soft, low utterly sexy voice that still sometimes haunted her dreams.

She knew she should offer him a snappy comeback, curt words cut with just the right amount of irony. Instead she clung to his hand, unable to stop herself from allowing her truest, deepest feelings to be revealed.

“It’s good to see you again, too, Bill,” she said at last. “Really, really good…”


Dear Reader,

As you ski into the holiday season, be sure to pick up the latest batch of Silhouette Special Edition romances. Featured this month is Annette Broadrick’s latest miniseries, SECRET SISTERS, about family found after years of separation. The first book in this series is Man in the Mist (#1576), which Annette describes as “…definitely a challenge to write.” About her main characters, Annette says, “Greg, the wounded lion hero—you know the type—gave me and the heroine a very hard time. But we refused to be intimidated and, well, you’ll see what happened!”

You’ll adore this month’s READERS’ RING pick, A Little Bit Pregnant (SE#1573), which is an emotional best-friends-turned-lovers tale by reader favorite Susan Mallery. Her Montana Millionaire (SE#1574) by Crystal Green is part of the popular series MONTANA MAVERICKS: THE KINGSLEYS. Here, a beautiful socialite dazzles the socks off a dashing single dad, but gets her own lesson in love. Nikki Benjamin brings us the exciting conclusion of the baby-focused miniseries MANHATTAN MULTIPLES, with Prince of the City (SE#1575). Two willful individuals, who were lovers in the past, have become bitter enemies. Will they find their way back to each other?

Peggy Webb tantalizes our romantic taste buds with The Christmas Feast (SE#1577), in which a young woman returns home for Christmas, but doesn’t bargain on meeting a man who steals her heart. And don’t miss A Mother’s Reflection (SE#1578), Elissa Ambrose’s powerful tale of finding long-lost family…and true love.

These six stories will enrich your hearts and add some spice to your holiday season. Next month, stay tuned for more page-turning and provocative romances from Silhouette Special Edition.

Happy reading!

Gail Chasan

Senior Editor




Prince of the City

Nikki Benjamin





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




NIKKI BENJAMIN


was born and raised in the Midwest, but after years in the Houston area, she considers herself a true Texan. Nikki says she’s always been an avid reader. (Her earliest literary heroines were Nancy Drew, Trixie Belden and Beany Malone.) Her writing experience was limited, however, until a friend started penning a novel and encouraged Nikki to do the same. One scene led to another, and soon she was hooked.


The exciting conclusion of

MANHATTAN MULTIPLES:

The doors of Manhattan Multiples might shut down. The mayor and Eloise Vale once had a thing. Someone on the staff is pregnant and is keeping it a secret. Romance and drama—and so many babies in the big city!

Eloise Vale—As Manhattan Multiples’ director and the mother of triplet boys, she finds enough to keep her busy. But her stomach is in knots because of continuous threats from a former flame, who is only the most powerful man in the city!

Bill Harper—With an empire to rule, the mayor of New York City has enough on his mind without memories of Eloise Vale, the only woman he’s ever loved. And now she’s the enemy. Can he find a way to bridge the gap between them?

Leah Simpson—This new mother has a troubling past. Will danger follow her to the doors of Manhattan Multiples?

Carl, Henry and John Vale—The terrible triplet trio, as they’ve been dubbed by their building’s doorman. Of course, these thirteen-year-olds are precious and want what’s best for their mother. They’ll fight to ensure her happiness, even if they have to go toe-to-toe with the mayor of New York!




Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue




Chapter One


Eloise Vale paused in front of the mahogany-framed, full-length mirror in her bedroom one last time and cast a critical glance at her reflection.

The simple but elegant black silk gown skimming her ankles—scooped modestly at the neckline, but plunging low to bare her back—showed off her trim figure to best advantage. Her ash-blond hair swung full and smooth to the edge of her chin. Her makeup, applied just a bit more dramatically than usual, accentuated her features in a highly flattering manner. And her jewelry, limited to glittering diamond earrings and a matching diamond bracelet, added just the right touch of glamour.

Not bad for a mature woman of forty-two, and the mother of thirteen-year-old triplet sons, she thought, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. In fact, she looked cooler, calmer and more sophisticated than she felt, considering the public scrutiny she would be facing during the evening ahead.

Amazing how deceptive one’s outward appearance—her outward appearance—could be, given the proper camouflage. And it was a darn good thing, too, under the circumstances. She couldn’t allow herself the luxury of displaying in any way the heart-pounding anticipation that had been making her tummy flutter since midafternoon. Only then had she, finally, belatedly acknowledged that she might be about to open Pandora’s box by attending the Mayor’s Ball.

Going to New York City’s premier social event of the fall season wasn’t a new experience for Eloise. Before his death three years ago, her husband, Walter Vale, an affluent investment banker, had taken her to the ball regularly. Tonight, however, her escort would be the mayor himself, Bill Harper.

The man she had loved but refused to marry seventeen years ago. Also the man she had lately come to consider her nemesis.

“Something you would do well to remember,” Eloise muttered, shaking a warning finger at her image in the mirror.

Bill Harper had proven the past few months that he was no friend of hers or Manhattan Multiples. He had only invited her to attend the ball with him because he wanted to look as if he was being fair-minded. And she had only accepted his invitation so she could use the occasion to her advantage.

The heated telephone calls she’d made to his office, the op-ed piece she’d written for the New York Times and the anonymous letters she’d written the editors of various other New York papers hadn’t seemed to do the least bit of good. But maybe face-to-face, one-on-one, she could make some headway with him, and in the process garner additional public support for her cause.

Tilting her chin at a defiant angle, Eloise nodded once, strengthened by the memory of the pact she’d made with herself weeks ago. She was willing to do just about anything to save Manhattan Multiples, the nonprofit organization she’d started to benefit the mothers of multiple-birth babies. And if that included spending an entire evening in the spotlight as Mayor Harper’s personal guest at the ball, then so be it.

She was smart and funny, and in the years she’d spent as the socialite wife of a prominent New York businessman, she had learned to be at ease in large gatherings. She could, and would, make the most of her appearance at tonight’s event.

She also assumed Mayor Harper intended to do the same. She had no doubt that his reason for wanting to be seen with her that evening was purely political.

She wasn’t naive enough to believe he had the slightest thought of picking up where they’d left off seventeen years ago. Neither had she, for that matter. Even though she was now a widow and he was divorced, her reasons for refusing his proposal of marriage were just as valid now as they had been then.

Certainly they had each changed in many ways over the years, but one deciding factor—the deciding factor when she’d turned down his proposal of marriage—still remained. Bill Harper was, and always would be, first and foremost, a politician.

And tonight he was only interested in using her as a means to deflect the criticism he’d received lately. Though popular with a good many people, his campaign to divert city funds from certain nonprofit organizations, including hers, and redirect them to renewing and revitalizing the city and its services across the board hadn’t met with the kind of overwhelming support she knew he would like to garner from the city’s population.

By being seen with her, and putting just the right spin on it, he could appear to have gained the cooperation of one of his more outspoken opponents. But Eloise also had a lot to gain. By being seen with the mayor, and putting just the right spin on it, she could make it seem as if he were considering her arguments supporting the maintenance of funding for the nonprofits in a favorable manner.

From past experience, she knew that polite public dialogue, aided and abetted by the proper spin, could work miracles. And as long as it looked as if she had the mayor’s attention, there was a possibility that she could eventually rally enough support in favor of retaining city funding for nonprofit organizations, including Manhattan Multiples, to prevent significant and potentially ruinous cuts from being made.

Turning away from the mirror at last, Eloise quickly gathered her tiny black silk purse along with the ankle-length black silk coat that not only complemented her gown, but would also help to ward off the November chill in the night air. A last glance at the clock on the nightstand as she walked determinedly to the bedroom doorway assured her that she still had a few minutes remaining until her date was due to arrive.

No, not date, she reminded herself as her tummy fluttered nervously, yet again. That made the occasion seem more personal and potentially romantic than she was certain either Mayor Harper or she meant it to be. Escort was a much more dispassionate, and thus much more acceptable designation.

Her anxiety at least partially allayed, Eloise headed down the hallway toward the living room, following the sound of raucous cheering, interspersed with masculine grunts and groans coming from the television set. She didn’t dare look into her sons’ bedroom doorways as she passed. Mrs. Kazinsky, her twice-weekly housekeeper, would be coming tomorrow.

Eloise had delegated all responsibility for maintaining some semblance of order in the boys’ rooms to her, and she had to trust that the sturdy, gray-haired, no-nonsense woman would work her magic just as she always did during her visits to the penthouse apartment.

Pausing in the doorway of the long, wide, rectangular living room, Eloise checked the time again on the mantel clock over the fireplace that centered the more formal side of the room. There, also, two wing chairs and a love seat—elegantly upholstered but comfortable—framed a richly colored Persian rug.

Not quite five minutes more before she fully expected the doorbell to chime.

Bill Harper would be right on time, of course. He was punctuality personified. He had never kept her waiting. In fact, he had a reputation for never keeping anyone waiting, not the press or even the more vociferous of his rival politicians.

Eloise’s gaze traveled on to the far end of the living room where a more casual grouping of overstuffed sofa and matching recliners surrounded a television set that was quite a bit larger than she considered absolutely necessary. Such a thing now having pride of place in her living room was a testament to what a pushover she could be where her sons were concerned.

Draped over the furniture in various stages of boyish slouch were her triplets. Boxes from the local pizza parlor, last seen in the kitchen, were now scattered on the glass and brass coffee table along with balled-up napkins, a gallon jug of milk and three empty glasses.

At least they’d used glasses, she thought with a rueful smile, a surge of love for her handsome, blond-haired boys warming her heart. They had been a handful since day one. They were also the main reason why she had started Manhattan Multiples. But she wouldn’t have traded them for anything in the world. They had added more joy to her life than she had ever imagined she’d have.

“Yo, Mamma, looking good,” Carl, the eldest by several minutes, called out. Apparently having dragged his attention from the wrestling match on TV, he hung his head back over the arm of one of the recliners and grinned at her impishly.

John, her middle son, the more serious expression on his face often distinguishing him from his brothers, rolled to his feet, vacating the other recliner. He surveyed her slowly from head to toe, them emitted a long, drawn-out wolf whistle that made her blush.

“Wow, Mom, you look really nice.”

Henry, her youngest, scrambled off the sofa and demanded with a teasing grin all his own, “Who are you and what have you done with our real mother? She was last seen wearing baggy jeans and a grubby sweatshirt.”

“Guys, give me a break, will you? You’ve seen me dressed in a ball gown, although I admit it’s been a while,” she reminded them, her prim tone of voice belied by her own gratified smile.

Passing muster with her sons never failed to boost her confidence. Not that they were overly critical. They were, however, always brutally frank. Had they not liked her attire, they would have been equally outspoken, a trait she had long since learned to appreciate as well-meaning.

“It has been a while. And you’ve never gone out on a date with some strange guy, either,” Carl replied, taking on the protective role of eldest son.

“It isn’t a date, at least not a real date. It’s actually more of a…business meeting. We’re just conducting it at a party rather than at the office. And Bill Harper isn’t a stranger. He’s the mayor of New York City and he’s also an old friend of mine,” Eloise advised before she had time to remember she hadn’t previously mentioned that fact to her sons.

“An old friend?” John frowned ominously, the designated worrier.

Obviously he had assumed they already knew all of her friends, old as well as new.

“Aha, the plot thickens,” Henry chortled, rubbing his hands together in gleeful anticipation of the possibility for future bedevilment. “Mom and the mayor…once old friends, now sworn enemies.”

“We are not enemies, sworn or otherwise. We simply have opposing viewpoints on several issues,” Eloise explained patiently.

“So you’re actually only…adversaries.” Carl eyed her smugly, showing off his prep school education to best advantage.

“Yeah, Carl,” John joined in. “Mom and the mayor are only adversaries.”

“Poor guy…he doesn’t stand a chance, does he?” Henry asked.

“Not with our mom as an adversary,” Carl replied.

The doorbell chimed loudly, not only startling them all, but also, thankfully, cutting off any further discussion of her relationship with Bill Harper.

Shooting her sons a warning look, Eloise crossed to the intercom, exchanged greetings with the doorman, who announced Mayor Harper’s arrival, then instructed him to send the mayor up to her apartment.

In an effort to quell the sudden reoccurrence of the butterflies in her stomach, she then turned back to her sons. All of them now hovered a few feet away, the wrestling match they’d been watching on the television totally forgotten.

“Need I ask you to please behave yourselves and mind your manners?”

“No, ma’am,” they replied in unison.

Though their faces were solemn, their bright blue eyes twinkled mischievously.

“Have all of you finished your homework?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Can I trust you to clean up the living room before you go to bed?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Bed by ten o’clock at the latest, okay? You know you have school tomorrow.”

“Ah, Mom—”

A sharp rap of the brass doorknocker interrupted any further argument her sons were about to give. They looked at each other, though, and then they looked at Eloise, each of them offering her an identical teasing grin.

“Mom, the door,” Carl prompted when she continued to stand and stare at them, her heart suddenly pounding, her purse and her coat gripped tightly in her hands.

“Yeah, Mom, the door,” Henry urged.

“Want me to get it?” John took a step forward.

“I’ll get it,” she said, her voice sounding odd—almost breathy—to her own ears.

She crossed the living room to the small foyer slowly, the boys naturally trailing along in her wake.

“Hey, he’s just an old friend with an opposing viewpoint,” Carl reminded her kindly when she hesitated a long moment, her hand clasping the brass doorknob.

“Right,” she muttered casting him a grateful smile.

“You look great, Mom,” Henry said, giving her shoulder a reassuring pat.

“And you’re smart, too,” John added for good measure.

Also just the tiniest bit terrified of what’s waiting for me on the other side of my front door, Eloise added silently, for her benefit alone. Then, drawing a steadying breath, she turned the bolt lock decisively.

She opened the door with a welcoming whoosh, then stood absolutely still, staring at Bill Harper with a barely contained gasp of astonishment.

She had thought she had been prepared to meet him again face-to-face for the first time in seventeen years. She had seen his picture in the paper often enough, as well as his image on the television screen. But he had been removed to a sure and certain distance on those occasions.

The lines and angles that made his face so appealingly attractive, the vitality in his bright blue eyes, the power and strength of his long, lithe frame had always been muted. Lounging casually on her doorstep, as he now was, elegantly dressed in a black tuxedo, his short salt-and-pepper hair neatly combed, his gaze direct, the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth warm and gracious, he was downright devastating, as were the memories that all too suddenly flooded through her.

As Eloise continued to meet his steady gaze, the years seemed to melt away under a rush of warmth edged with a longing that caught her completely by surprise. In those first few moments, she could think of him only as her old friend, her once dearest, most beloved friend—the man she could have married, would have married…if only. And she imagined, for the space of a heartbeat, how wonderful it would be to step into his arms that very moment, to hold him close and be held, in turn, by him.

Then, remembering that her sons stood right behind her, taking in the scene, no doubt much more avidly that she would have liked, Eloise gave herself a firm mental shake. Bill Harper had been her friend once, emphasis on had been. Now, as Carl had so nicely put it, he was her adversary. And as such, he threatened everything she had worked for with a fund-cutting flourish of his mayoral pen.

“Mr. Mayor,” she greeted him politely, offering her hand along with a dignified smile. “Come in, please, and let me introduce you to my sons.”

“Please, Eloise, call me Bill,” he replied, his tone equally polite.

He wrapped her hand in both of his far larger and much warmer ones, then held on to it just a tad longer than absolutely necessary, his blue eyes sparkling just as devilishly as her sons’ eyes had earlier.

“Of course…Bill.” She felt her cheeks warm as she finally managed to pull her hand free. Gesturing to each of her sons in turn, she added, “Carl, John and Henry.”

“Mr. Mayor, nice to meet you,” each said as he shook hands with them, showing the same warmth he’d shown her.

“Boys, nice to meet all of you, too.” He glanced at Eloise, his tone suddenly teasing as he added, “How on earth do you tell them apart?”

“It’s not always easy,” she admitted with a wry smile. “But I have my ways.”

“I’ll bet you do,” Bill said, his smile widening. “She’s not easy to fool, is she?” He directed the question to her sons.

“No, sir, not at all,” Carl replied as John and Henry exchanged amused glances.

“It’s good to know some things never change.” Bill favored Eloise with a look that struck her as all too familiar, not to mention much too knowing. Then he glanced at his heavy gold watch, the only jewelry he wore. “I suppose we’d better go. We don’t want to keep my constituents waiting, do we?”

“Not tonight,” she agreed, trying, unsuccessfully, to ignore her nervousness.

“Why don’t you let me help you with your coat?” Reaching out, Bill took it from her.

“Yes, of course. Thank you.”

Eloise glanced up at him again, and her cheeks warmed even more at the intensity still evident in his eyes, still plainly directed her way. Turning, she slid her arms into the silken sleeves of her coat as he held it open for her. As she fumbled with the rhinestone buttons, her fingers refusing to work properly, he put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed gently as if to reassure her in some way. The deft flex of his fingers through the fabric of her coat was not only heartening, but also disturbingly distracting.

Startled by an unexpected wave of heat that welled up deep within her, Eloise cast another wordless glance at Bill. His smile now had a mischievous hint to it, making her realize—as he must—just how easily she could once again become putty in his all-too-clever hands.

Taking a firm grip on her rioting emotions, and a decisive step away from the mayor, Eloise directed a stern look at each of her sons in turn.

“Bed by ten,” she reminded them.

“Yes, ma’am,” they chorused.

“I have my pager in my purse in case you need me for any reason.”

“We won’t,” Carl assured her.

“I doubt I’ll be out all that late,” she added.

Though she couldn’t say for sure, Eloise didn’t think Bill would want to spend any more time with her than absolutely necessary, especially once he’d attained maximum benefit from the photo ops attendant upon their being seen together in public. And, of course, she had no desire to linger in his company, either.

“You’d better not, Mom. You have to go to work tomorrow, and we all know how cranky you can be when you don’t get a good night’s sleep,” John admonished, his expression mockingly stern.

“Ah, so the lady still has to have a full eight hours of sleep to function,” Bill said, more than a hint of laughter lacing his voice. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

Exchanging what appeared to be conspiratorial glances with her sons, Bill shook hands again with each of them, then opened the door and gestured with a stately flourish.

“Eloise…”

Feeling just the slightest bit at a disadvantage, she lifted her chin, forced herself to meet his gaze and attempted a haughty smile as she stepped into the hallway.

“Thank you, Bill.”

She couldn’t think how she had expected the evening to unfold, but she was fairly certain she had already lost most, if not all control of the situation, and they weren’t even out of her apartment building yet. She also knew she should be trying to eliminate what seemed like a serious disadvantage on her part. But oddly enough, she couldn’t seem to get motivated in that particular direction.

Not when Bill took her arm and escorted her onto the elevator. Not as they rode down to the lobby in silence, his presence beside her comfortingly familiar. Not when the doorman greeted them politely, and not when the driver did likewise as he opened the door of the long, black limousine for them.

Only as Bill settled close to her on the richly upholstered leather seat and the door closed with a solid thunk, sealing them into luxurious privacy did her heartbeat quicken. The warning bells that should have been ringing all along finally went off in her head, but it was too late—much, much too late. They were alone together, shut off from the world, if only momentarily. And Mayor Harper—Bill Harper—her former friend and lover, and now the perpetrator of the possible undoing of all she’d worked so hard to achieve the past twelve years, was reaching out, taking her small, cold hand and folding it into his much larger, warmer one.

“I haven’t told you yet how good it is to see you again, have I, Eloise? And it is good to see you, finally face-to-face. Not just good, great, really, really great…” he said in the same soft, low, utterly sexy voice that still sometimes haunted her dreams.

She knew she should offer him a snappy comeback, curt words cut with just the right amount of irony. Instead she clung to his hand unabashedly, unable to stop herself from allowing her truest, deepest feelings to be revealed. She had loved Bill Harper once, and that love had never completely died. To pretend that it had, no matter how important the reason, was something she was simply too honest to do.

“It’s good to see you again, too, Bill,” she said at last. “Really, really good…”




Chapter Two


Until the moment Eloise Vale looked up at him in the limousine and admitted she was glad to see him again, Bill Harper had been gliding uncomfortably on the edge of uncertainty.

Seventeen years had passed since she’d turned down his proposal of marriage. He hadn’t allowed himself to believe that she’d retained any but the most pragmatic feelings for him during the time they’d spent living their separate lives. And her outspoken, unabashedly negative opinion of his proposed cuts to city funding had made it all too possible that her behavior toward him might be downright hostile.

Bill couldn’t say for sure exactly what had motivated him to ask Eloise to accompany him to the Mayor’s Ball as his personal guest. In fact, he had debated for weeks whether or not to do it.

But some force deep inside him had warned with ever-increasing urgency that renewing his old acquaintance with Eloise—his beloved Eloise—was fast becoming a now-or-never proposition.

He hadn’t wanted her to continue thinking of him as an enemy, as she would have so easily been able to do at a distance. At the very least, he had wanted to find some way for her to be able to consider him a friend.

Though, in all honesty, he wanted more than friendship from her, so much more. And he had known, intuitively, that if he expected to have any chance of winning back her affection, he had to act without further delay, or live to regret it the rest of his life.

He had finally issued his invitation—not by telephone but by handwritten note—fully anticipating that Eloise would politely refuse. Instead, she had accepted via a graciously worded, handwritten note of her own.

Bill had reread that note daily during the two weeks since he’d received it—two very long weeks when he had also contemplated every possible reason why she might decide to bow out at the last minute. She hadn’t, of course. And, in fact, he should have known all along that she wouldn’t.

Eloise Vale had always been as good as her word, something Bill knew well from firsthand experience. She had honored her promise to marry Walter Vale seventeen years ago, hadn’t she? And though her decision had been a painful one for him to bear, Bill had admired her loyalty then as he did now, even knowing that tonight she was only there with him out of dedication to Manhattan Multiples.

He had been fully aware, as certain members of his staff had taken great pains to point out, that she could, and most likely would, use her attendance at the Mayor’s Ball as his personal guest to the advantage of her non-profit organization. But as he sat beside Eloise on the limousine’s plush leather seat, breathing in the light, fresh scent of her perfume, he saw the warmth in her pale-gray eyes as she met his gaze, and he knew that she really was happy to see him again. As happy as he was to see her, though she hadn’t sounded quite convinced as she’d said the words.

She was much too forthright to dissemble. And although her behavior toward him since his arrival at her apartment had been somewhat reserved, he had most certainly detected an underlying cordiality in her demeanor. He had seen the sparkle of anticipation in her eyes, the same anticipation he had felt as they’d met each other’s gaze for the first time in too many years. And he had known that it had nothing to do with causes to be won.

The source of Eloise’s inner excitement was much more personal, and thus much more heartening than Bill had dared to hope.

“May I say that you look lovely tonight?” he asked.

Finally feeling sure of himself and the rightness of his decision to renew his personal acquaintance with her again, Bill determined to take full advantage of the short, very private ride to the hotel where the ball was being held. He wanted to set aside, as much as he possibly could, all thoughts of the current conflict between them, and he wanted Eloise to do the same.

Inconceivable as he knew it would likely prove to be under the circumstances, he wanted them to be two ordinary people, a man and a woman, enjoying each other’s company as they got to know each other again. And he wanted to believe Eloise, too, had felt a jolt of electric attraction similar to the one he’d experienced when he’d helped her into the black silk coat that complemented her dress so well.

“Only if you mean it,” she replied with a wry smile, her tone not the least bit coy.

“I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”

“Thank you.” She looked down a moment, seeming shy all of a sudden, then glanced at him again, still smiling, her voice teasing as she added, “You look awfully nice yourself, Mr. Mayor. Very elegant, not to mention quite distinguished…”

“I appreciate the compliment, Eloise, but you don’t have to be so formal,” he admonished gently, unwilling to allow her to erect even that small barrier between them.

“Actually, I think I should, all things considered.” Though she still smiled up at him, she now did so with a slight, seemingly defensive tip of her chin. “And you’ve more than earned the title,” she added. “There’s no reason why you shouldn’t enjoy it.”

“While I can?”

“Your words, not mine.”

Eloise’s eyes flashed with a teasing gleam that brought back such a rush of memories Bill’s breath caught in his throat. He had forgotten what an excellent sparring partner she could be—bright and quick and full of humor. And remembering, he recalled, as well, that it had often been necessary to kiss her senseless in order to put an end to their verbal battles.

Much as he liked the idea, he didn’t dare do that now, though. He could, however, attempt to change the subject.

“Meant facetiously, of course.”

“Of course,” she agreed without any obvious sign of conviction.

“I enjoyed meeting your sons. You must be very proud of them, and rightly so.”

“I am—very, very proud. They can be a handful at times, and of course, they have only just entered their teens so I expect I’m going to have quite a few challenges to face, especially over the next couple of years. They don’t gang up on me nearly as much as they could. Still, I’m trying to prepare myself for whatever rocky times lie ahead. They’re basically good kids, though. And they seem to understand, more often than not, how much I’ve come to depend on their cooperation since their father’s death.”

“I was really sorry to hear about Walter.”

“Losing him the way we did was hard on all of us,” Eloise admitted. “He had always been in such good health and he’d just had a complete physical. The doctor assured me that the results of all the tests had been negative. They’d had no reason to suspect he might have a massive heart attack, and no way of foreseeing the possibility, either.”

“I wish I could have been here for the funeral,” Bill said, recalling how helpless he’d felt, stuck in a snowstorm in upstate New York, the one time he might have been of some help to her. “But I didn’t hear about his death until it was too late to get back to the city.”

“The flowers you sent were beautiful, and your card meant so much to me, too.” She hesitated a moment, looking away. “Walter always thought a lot of you. He always admired all of your hard work, too.”

“I always thought a lot of Walter, as well. And you, Eloise…”

Tentatively he took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. To his surprise and gratification, she didn’t pull away immediately, but held on to him as if grateful, as well, for the physical contact he had finally taken the chance of initiating.

“You’ve had your ups and downs, too,” she said after a few moments, glancing up at him again. “I was sorry to read about your divorce from Marnie Hartwell.”

“She’s a wonderful woman, very happily remarried with a third baby on the way. We had some good times together, but unfortunately, we had different priorities—something we refused to admit until after we’d married. At least our parting was not only mutually agreeable, but also amicable. Or as mutually agreeable and amicable as that kind of parting can be.”

There had been so much more to his rebound marriage and subsequent divorce than his simple statements indicated. But there wasn’t enough time now to give Eloise more than the sanitized version generally put out for public consumption. Not that he or Marnie had any deep, dark secrets to hide, but one day he hoped to be able to tell Eloise the whole truth about why his perfectly good marriage had ultimately failed.

“And you’ve been a confirmed bachelor ever since,” she said, now gazing at him with an assessing look, one eyebrow quizzically raised. “Although you always seem to have an attractive woman on your arm whenever you attend an event of any great importance.”

“Keeping tabs on my social life, are you, Eloise? I’m flattered.”

“Well, there’s absolutely no reason at all for you to be. Your picture is in all of the papers all of the time. Everyone in the entire city can keep tabs on your social life whether they want to or not.”

“True enough, but then I am the mayor.” He gave her hand another squeeze as the limousine pulled to the curb in front of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel and the milling photographers awaiting his arrival eyed the vehicle with sudden interest. “And tonight I have the most attractive woman I’ve ever known on my arm. I can’t even begin to tell you how proud and how happy that makes me feel.”

Taking advantage of Eloise’s momentarily stunned silence, he bent and kissed her lightly on the cheek. Then, as the driver exited the limousine, he flashed her an encouraging smile.

“Ms. Vale, it’s an honor to have you here with me tonight.”

“I bet you say that to all the ladies, Mr. Mayor,” she retorted in a wry tone, obviously having collected herself once again.

“Never once, to anyone else, Eloise. I swear.”

“Thank you, then…Mr. Mayor.”

He slanted a disappointed look at her, but she met his gaze unwaveringly, her demeanor cool and calm as she clung righteously to what was really nothing more than a mere thread of formality. Tonight he wanted her to think of him only as Bill Harper, but he couldn’t really blame her for choosing not to. They might have a history together, an intimate history filled with many, many pleasant memories. But here and now they were on opposite sides of a very important political fence, and they both had a lot at stake.

He knew that Eloise was no more likely to be bulldozed into changing her stance than he was. But he had no intention of doing anything like that tonight. Surprisingly enough, he had no hidden agenda at all for the evening ahead. He wanted only to enjoy the pleasure of her company. And he sincerely hoped that she would be able to enjoy his company, as well.

“Okay, have it your way,” he relented with a grin as the driver opened the rear door of the limousine.

She rewarded him with another of her wry smiles.

“I could be so lucky.”

“Well, you have to roll the dice first,” he advised. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she replied, keeping a hold on his hand as he helped her out of the limousine amid the sudden click and flash of cameras aimed at them from all directions.

So much for private time, Bill thought as he paused on the sidewalk outside the hotel, put an arm around Eloise’s shoulders, drew her close to his side and smiled graciously for the hoard of hardworking photographers. Standing next to him, Eloise seemed equally at ease in the limelight, her own smile dazzling, subtly reminding him that she was a powerful force in her own right—one with which he would eventually have to reckon.

Not tonight, though, he determined. Tonight he planned to do everything in his substantial power to see that Eloise Vale had the time of her life as his very special guest at this very special party held in his honor.



Eloise couldn’t remember ever having quite as much fun at a social engagement as she had at the Mayor’s Ball that night. She had attended many, many similar high-society events in the past with much higher expectations of enjoyment, only to be sadly disappointed. And since she had agreed to accompany Bill Harper to the Mayor’s Ball solely as a means of promoting her cause—the continuation of city funding for nonprofit organizations including her own Manhattan Multiples—she had known better than to also count on having a good time.

As she had on every other occasion when she’d felt duty-bound to attend a particular event, she had wanted only to be able to get through the ordeal with as much grace and charm as she could muster. But from the moment she had opened her apartment door to Mayor Harper, a whole new world filled with surprising possibilities seemed to open up for her, as well—not only for the evening ahead, but for the very near future, too.

He was so relaxed in her presence, and they had so many shared memories—truly fond memories—that her attempts to maintain some semblance of formality between them seemed more and more ludicrous as the night wore on. And the longer she was with Bill Harper, the harder it was for her to think of him as an adversary, until finally, reluctantly, she gave up on it altogether.

He gave every appearance of being genuinely proud to have her by his side, pausing outside the hotel, and again inside the grand ballroom, to allow the photographers on hand to duly record their presence there together. Granted, he would benefit from the exposure, but so would she. Nor was she cynical enough to assume his high spirits were due only, or even mainly, to any possible gain in political advantage he might make at her expense. Public opinion could be swayed just as easily in the direction of her cause, as he must surely know.

Once swept up in the glamour and excitement of the Mayor’s Ball, Eloise wasn’t able to allow serious thoughts to distract her for very long. Even though saving city funding for Manhattan Multiples remained a very real problem that nagged at the back of her mind throughout the evening, she was too busy enjoying Bill’s attentive company to focus on it as completely as she probably should have. And while that could have been exactly what Bill intended, he seemed to be having just as much fun as she was, something even he couldn’t fake for very long.

After seeing to it that her black silk coat was safely stowed away, he snagged a glass of champagne for each of them off a passing waiter’s tray. Then he took her on a tour of the ballroom, filled to near capacity with the city’s most important men and women, movers and shakers one and all, dressed in their finest and eager to make their presence as well as their various positions known to the mayor. Bill greeted them all with equal affability, also making sure to introduce Eloise.

His very dear friend, he said over and over again, smiling at her with such obvious warmth that he not only made her heart glow, but also made her believe it was true.

Some people eyed them with obvious surprise while others seemed somewhat dismayed. But most responded to them with a nonchalance that put her even more at ease.

It was possible, after all, for two people with very differing opinions to be friends. And though not widely known among their contemporaries, she and Bill had had a close personal relationship long before their conflict over city funding had arisen.

Having completed his meet-and-greet duties, Bill lured Eloise to the buffet table and piled a white china plate high with tantalizing tidbits for them to share. Then he led her off to a secluded alcove where a table for two—complete with white linen tablecloth and a centerpiece of pale pink roses—had been discreetly tucked away, reserved just for them, obviously at his special request.

“This is lovely,” Eloise said as he seated her in one of the fabric-draped chairs. “But how did you manage it?”

“Well, I am the mayor,” he reminded her—as he seemed to enjoy doing—his tone teasing.

“And the center of attention at your very own ball, as well you should be. I didn’t think hiding out in a private nook was allowed at an affair of this magnitude, though.”

Unselfconsciously, Eloise helped herself to a miniature quiche that proved to be simply delicious.

“Even the mayor of New York City needs an occasional respite. Or maybe I should say especially the mayor.” Bill, too, helped himself to one of the morsels he had selected from the buffet. “I imagine you’ve often felt the same way, sponsoring as many fund-raising events as you do.”

“There are a lot of times when I’d much rather be home alone, wearing my baggiest sweats, curled up on the sofa with a good book and a cup of tea,” she admitted. “But smiling and shaking hands and making small talk with strangers at yet another function for yet another good cause has become more and more of a necessity lately.”

“I hope tonight isn’t one of those times you’d rather be home,” he said, his concern for her feelings evident.

“No, not tonight,” she replied, not only unable, but also unwilling to hide her true feelings from him. “Tonight, much to my surprise, I’m actually having a very good time.”

“You know, so am I,” Bill admitted, sounding just the slightest bit surprised himself. Then he added with a wicked grin, “I can’t remember when that happened last. Must be the company we’re keeping, huh?”

“Must be,” Eloise agreed, smiling as well, as she snitched the last appetizer from the plate on the table.

“Have you had enough to eat or would you like me to make another foray to the buffet table?”

“Enough for now, although you could probably tempt me with something decadently rich and sweet from the dessert table a little later.”

“How about a dance then?” Bill suggested as the orchestra began playing a soft, sexy ballad that had always been one of her favorites.

“A dance would be nice,” Eloise agreed, remembering a long-ago night when they had held each other close, swaying to a similarly slow rhythm in a smoky club somewhere in Greenwich Village—a world away from the ballroom at the Waldorf Astoria.

“It’s been a while,” he said quietly, seeming to recall, as well, their last dance together as he stood to help her from her chair.

“I’ve been told dancing is like riding a bike,” she quipped as he took her hand, wanting to recapture the lighthearted mood they’d been sharing. “Once you learn, you never forget.”

“There are a lot of things I’ve never forgotten, Eloise,” Bill murmured as they reached the dance floor and he took her in his arms. “Holding you like this is definitely at the top of the list.”

Her heart fluttering, Eloise leaned against Bill wordlessly as he guided her into a simple box step. She had never forgotten completely the feel of his arms around her, either, even though there had been times when she had tried desperately to do so.

And now, as his long, lean, masculine frame seemed to curve protectively around her shorter, slighter self, the heat of his body melding with hers, she breathed in the fresh, clean scent of his aftershave and experienced a sense of peace and happiness she hadn’t known she’d been missing.

It felt so good, so right, to be held in Bill Harper’s arms. And though she knew these moments she shared with him were fleeting, she closed her eyes and pretended they would last forever.

As the music played on, one song segueing into another, he didn’t speak and gratefully neither did she. The spell would be broken soon enough without any help from her. The orchestra cooperated a little longer, playing a third slow and easy ballad, then finally picked up the tempo by several beats with an old disco favorite.

“I’m still not much good at the faster dance steps,” Bill admitted with obvious regret.

“Neither am I,” Eloise said.

Taking his cue, she stepped out of his arms, but didn’t pull her hand away when he seemed inclined to hold on to it.

“How about another glass of champagne?” he asked as he led her off the dance floor. “Or maybe something from the dessert table?”

Before Eloise could reply, they were waylaid by an investment banker who had been an associate of her husband’s, and his bejeweled wife. While Eloise spoke to them, Bill flagged down a waiter and got them each another glass of champagne. Then they seemed to be swept up in another round of pressing the flesh as late arrivals sought to make their presence known to the ball’s guest of honor and his lovely companion.

To his credit, Bill made sure they passed by the long, linen-covered table filled with desserts. Acknowledging in a teasing tone his recollection of her notorious taste for sweets, he helped her select a sampling of the luscious pastries on offer there.

But they weren’t able to slip away alone again. Instead, they were invited to sit at a large round table full of corporate leaders, an invitation Eloise knew they were both wise to graciously accept.

These were the men and women most likely to support nonprofit organizations like Manhattan Multiples. Of course, they were also just as likely to support major cuts in city funding, especially if it meant there wouldn’t be any increase in corporate taxes as a result, Eloise reminded herself as she nibbled on a tiny slice of sinfully delicious chocolate cake. Thankfully, no one at the table was boorish enough to bring up the subject, though.

But Eloise sensed an avid interest among their table mates in her rather odd and obviously unexpected appearance at the ball as Mayor Harper’s special guest when everyone knew they held opposing views on such an important and potentially volatile issue. She should really be much more concerned about what people thought, Eloise admitted. But she was feeling so mellow that it was easier to just drift along, nodding and smiling and occasionally offering an appropriate, if inane, comment whenever necessary.

“How about a last dance…for tonight?” Bill asked as the conversation around them fell into a lull and the orchestra once again slowed the tempo of the music.

“Yes, please.”

The rhythm of her heart quickening once again, Eloise smiled at him graciously, ignoring as best she could the raised eyebrows of several of the women as she took his proffered hand. She hadn’t missed Bill’s “for tonight,” and apparently, neither had they. But she knew better than they that he was only trying to charm her.

Under the circumstances, they wouldn’t be spending any more time together after tonight unless one or the other of them changed their political position. And that was highly unlikely to happen.

“Excuse us, everyone,” Bill said, and whisked her onto the dance floor as if afraid she would change her mind.

Fat chance of that happening, either, Eloise thought, as she stepped into his open arms and allowed herself to be enfolded in his masculine embrace one last time.

“I hope you didn’t mind my dragging you off the way I did, but it’s getting late and I wanted to dance with you again before we left,” Bill admitted somewhat sheepishly.

“I didn’t mind at all,” Eloise assured him, smiling as she met his questing gaze.

“Good.”

He drew her closer, his arms tightening around her imperceptibly as he brushed his cheek against her hair.

As the music played on, Eloise had a good idea of exactly how Cinderella must have felt, the clock ticking away the moments until she would be dropped back into the real world again. Her party was about to be over very soon, too. And in the morning she would once again have to face her own version of the real world, along with the very real problems she had come no closer to solving that night.

She had spent several hours with Mayor Harper, and although most of that time had also been spent with other people, as well, she’d had more than one opportunity to broach the subject of his proposed cuts to city funding. But she hadn’t done it, and she wasn’t going to.

Not as they danced together one last time, and not on the short ride back to her apartment, sitting close beside him in the privacy of his black limousine, the bright lights of the city muted by the tinted glass in the windows.

Certainly she was entitled to a little downtime, she reasoned justifiably. And certainly she was entitled to spend that downtime in harmony with an old and very dear friend, renewing an acquaintance that would be of benefit to her and, by association, to Manhattan Multiples, as well.

Or so she tried to believe as she tucked her head against Bill’s shoulder and allowed her hand to remain firmly clasped in his.

Whatever differences they had—and there were some—could, and would, be addressed. But at another time, in another place, she vowed, aware of how fleeting peaceful moments like the ones they now shared had lately seemed to be in her normally hectic life.

Bill appeared to be no more inclined to talk than she was, either in the limousine or on the all too speedy elevator ride to her apartment, though he did seem to want to keep ahold of her hand. Eloise was grateful on both counts. Tonight had been a very special night for her, one she would never forget. But just like Cinderella, she knew the countdown to its end would be over very soon now.

“I had a really good time tonight,” Bill said as the elevator door whispered open on her floor.

Stepping off together, they started slowly down the hallway, the plush carpet muffling their footsteps, the pale glow of the art deco wall sconces lighting their way.

“So did I,” Eloise replied, risking a glance at him as they came to a halt just outside her apartment door.

She knew immediately that she had made a big mistake by meeting his gaze. Knew, too, what was coming next and that she had a duty to discourage it. But the look of longing in Bill’s bright blue eyes, edged with just the right hint of masculine mischief, made it impossible for her to do anything quite so sensible.

She was capable only of standing silently, caught and held by his mesmerizing gaze, as she awaited the inevitable and not unwelcome moment they had been moving toward all evening.

“I’m so glad we finally got together again,” he continued, his voice pitched a notch lower.

Obviously feeling much too sure of himself, he offered her another winning smile.

“Yes,” she agreed, brought back to earth again by his show of confidence. “I’m glad, too.” Then, gathering her wits about her as she should have done much sooner, she ever so politely extended her hand. “Thank you for a lovely evening, Bill.”

“Thank you, Eloise,” he replied, his smile widening. “For making it much more than a lovely evening.”

Pulling her close before she could even think of resisting, he bent his head and gently, chastely claimed her lips with his.

Eloise had forgotten how gratifying even the simplest kiss could be, especially when shared with someone as desirable as Bill Harper had always been to her.

It wasn’t as if thoughts of him had ever interfered with her marital happiness, and it certainly wasn’t as if she had ever obsessed about him sexually. But Bill had meant so much to her once upon a time.

So surely it wasn’t odd that her attraction to him had lingered over time, tucked away in the far reaches of her fondest-days-past memories. Nor was it any surprise at all that she found herself responding to his kiss with an ardor that she would have never displayed with any other man, even though some reticence on her part probably would have been wise.

But she didn’t want to be wise tonight, Eloise decided as Bill deepened their kiss ever so slightly.

Tracing the line of her lips with a teasing tongue, he sought entry, finding it as she uttered a soft sigh, relaxed against him and teased back with her own tongue.

His arms tightened around her possessively as they tasted each other intimately, and she sighed again, raising up on her toes, seeking desperately to get as close to him as she could. She wanted to feel even more completely the warmth radiating so seductively from his body—wanted, secretly, to dispense with all the clothing keeping her from putting her hands and her mouth against his hot, bare skin.

Suddenly, somewhere much too close to them, a door opened with a heavy rush. The sound registered in Eloise’s mind, along with the faintest hint of boyish snickering, setting off a vague sense of alarm. But she was too enthralled by Bill’s sensual kiss to react as promptly or appropriately as she should have. And then it was too late. She was thoroughly and completely caught in the act by her sons.

“Hey, Mom,” Henry, the youngest, sang out. “You’re late.”

“Yeah, Mom, you are way late,” John, her middle son, chided. “Way, way, way late. We expected you to be home hours ago.”

“Do you know how worried we’ve been?” Carl, the eldest, demanded, his tone resembling one she had often used herself with them, only without the obvious touch of humor blended in for good measure. “I’m here to tell you that you are so grounded.”

“Yeah, so grounded, Mom,” Henry and John echoed, barely able to contain their laughter.

Totally flustered, Eloise took a step back as Bill broke off their kiss with a masculine chuckle.

“Looks like we have an audience,” he muttered, his blue eyes gleaming with what appeared to be pride.

Though he shifted to one side so that he faced her sons—all three crowded into the open doorway of the apartment—he still kept a possessive arm around her shoulders.

“Sorry, guys, it’s my fault your mom’s late getting home. We were having so much fun together we lost all track of time.”

“A likely story,” Carl retorted grimly, but his eyes twinkled, too, as did his brothers’.

“You three were supposed to be in bed no later than ten o’clock,” Eloise reminded them primly, going on the offensive.

They looked so cute in the red plaid flannel pants and red long-sleeved T-shirts they had recently adopted in lieu of pajamas that she wanted to hug them. But they were the ones who were up much too late tonight—a school night—against her expressed wishes.

“And a good thing we weren’t,” John replied severely. “Otherwise, who knows what you might have gotten yourself into out here in the hallway?”

“Yeah, Mom, who knows?” Henry added.

“She’s safe with me,” Bill assured them. “Although I must admit I couldn’t resist snatching one little kiss before I said good-night.” He traded conspiratorial grins with her sons then transferred his charming gaze back to Eloise. “Thank you for a wonderful evening, Ms. Vale.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Mayor,” she murmured in reply, not quite able to look him in the eye.

Bending, Bill gave her a last quick kiss on the cheek, and added very quietly for her ears only, “I’ll call you,” as he gave her shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

Then, to her sons, he saluted smartly.

“Gentlemen, don’t be too hard on her.”

“We won’t,” Carl answered for all of them.

“And don’t you be too hard on them,” he instructed Eloise, his grin widening for an instant before he turned and headed down the hallway to the elevator.

“Yeah, Mom, don’t be too hard on us,” Henry pleaded in a teasing tone as she made herding gestures with her hands to get them out of the hallway and back inside the apartment where they belonged.

“We were only looking out for you, Mom,” John reminded her.

“’Cause we love you,” Carl added wisely.

“You are never going to be able to get out of bed in the morning, much less be able to stay awake all day,” she chastised them. “I’m not paying good money to a private school for you to fall asleep in class.”

“Hey, it’s already morning. Maybe we should just stay up,” Henry suggested.

“Absolutely not. You are all going to bed without any further delay, and I don’t want to hear a single complaint from any of you when your alarms go off at six o’clock.”

“Like you’re even going to be up then yourself,” Carl quipped as he headed into his room.

“Oh, I’ll be up,” Eloise vowed, remembering the busy day she had ahead of her. Then remembering, too, that she hadn’t done anything tonight to alleviate any of the problems awaiting resolution at Manhattan Multiples, she added by way of warning, “And I’ll also be just a little cranky.”

“No, please, not Cranky Mom,” Henry teased as he scurried into his room.

“A fate worse than death,” John said, peeling off down the hallway into his room, as well.

“Good night, boys,” Eloise called out, smiling to herself as she continued on to her bedroom.

“Good night, Mom,” they replied in unison.

They were such good boys, she thought as she slipped out of her black silk coat and hung it in the closet. But they really should have gone to bed as instructed. Although, as John had said, it was probably a good thing they hadn’t. Without the teasing interruption they’d provided, there was no telling what she and Bill might have been tempted to do out in the hallway.

Why, she might even have invited him into the apartment for a nightcap.

Just thinking about curling up on the sofa with Bill made Eloise blush as she kicked off her high-heeled black shoes, then reached for the zipper at the back of her dress. They wouldn’t have simply sat there for very long if the kiss they had shared in the hallway was any indication. And Eloise had sense enough to know that sharing even a chaste kiss with him wasn’t a very good idea under the circumstances.

The issues dividing them hadn’t magically faded away over the course of the evening they’d spent together. In fact, those issues would have to be addressed first thing in the morning when she arrived at her Manhattan Multiples office. No amount of wishing otherwise would change that. Nor would any number of shared kisses, whether chaste or intimate.

Though not sworn enemies, she and Bill Harper couldn’t really be friends, much less lovers. Not when he had the power to destroy all she had worked so hard to accomplish the past twelve years, she reminded herself as she washed her face, brushed her hair, slipped into her nightgown and then into bed.

And while she understood Bill’s reasons for wanting to cut city funding to nonprofit organizations, she couldn’t, in good conscience, appear to go along with those reasons by pursuing any kind of personal relationship with him. There were too many good and dedicated people depending on her and, more important, on Manhattan Multiples for her to be so selfish.

She’d had her downtime—as she had come to think of that evening—and she had enjoyed it thoroughly. But she had to face reality in the morning and get busy again doing whatever she could to save Manhattan Multiples. Even if that meant staying as far away from Mayor Harper as she could.

And she would, really she would—in the morning.

But now, snuggling under the blankets on her bed, eyes closed, arms around her linen-covered feather pillow, Eloise allowed herself to relive one more time the soul-stirring kiss she had shared with him so unreservedly, and to consider, as she drifted off to sleep, the might-have-been that could, and would, never be.




Chapter Three


The muted but monotonous drone of a vacuum cleaner brought Eloise slowly, annoyingly awake. Much to her regret, the remaining wisps of a very pleasant dream faded altogether as she opened her eyes. Beams of sunlight peeked through the slats of the plantation blinds on the bedroom windows, assuring her morning had come.

Only, she didn’t really want to get out of bed just yet. She wanted to close her eyes again, snuggle deeper under the blankets and try to recapture the peace and serenity of wherever her sleeping self had been just moments ago. And she tried to do that—for all of the thirty seconds it took her to realize what hearing the sound of the vacuum cleaner meant.

Mrs. Kazinsky, who always arrived at the apartment at nine o’clock sharp on Wednesdays and Fridays, was already busily at work.

Which meant that she, in turn, had overslept by at least three hours from the time when her alarm should have gone off. Would have gone off if she hadn’t been in such a daze following the Mayor’s Ball that she had forgotten to set the darn thing in the first place.

Why hadn’t anyone invented an alarm clock that went off at the same time every morning whether you remembered to click the appropriate switch or not? And if someone already had, why hadn’t she found one yet?

Grumbling to herself, Eloise tossed aside her blankets and sat up, finally risking a glance at the obstinately ordinary and uncooperative, though highly decorative, clock on her nightstand.

Ten-fifteen! It couldn’t be.

But it was, she chided herself as she hurried toward the master bathroom, then skidded to a halt and headed, instead, for the bedroom door, her disgust at her own lack of discipline—how much effort did it require to set an alarm clock, after all?—having been replaced by concern for her sons.

It was her responsibility to see that Carl, John and Henry got off to school on time every morning—a responsibility she had never taken lightly and had always fulfilled regardless of how late she had been out the night before—well, always in the past.

As she flung open the door and started down the hallway, her agitation mounting, Eloise saw Mrs. Kazinsky backing slowly out of Carl’s room, pushing, then pulling the vacuum cleaner as she went. Seeming to sense Eloise’s presence in the hallway, the housekeeper looked up, smiled placidly and switched off the vacuum.

“So, Mrs. Vale, you are awake. I am hoping I didn’t disturb you, but I had to start on the boys’ rooms.”

“It’s a good thing you did or I might have slept till noon,” Eloise reassured her.

She knew Mrs. Kazinsky liked to tackle her sons’ rooms first, getting the heaviest cleaning out of the way while she was feeling the most energetic, and she didn’t blame the older woman for sticking to her routine. Eloise was the one who had deviated from her usual schedule, one that had her out of the apartment no later than eight-thirty most weekday mornings.

“There’s fresh coffee in the pot and I brought some of those pastries from the Polish bakery in my neighborhood that you like,” the housekeeper offered, still smiling.

“Sounds wonderful, Mrs. Kazinsky.” Eloise smiled gratefully in return, then added, “I take it the boys got off to school okay.”

“They were gone when I got here, and there were cereal bowls and glasses in the sink, all rinsed out, too. They are such good boys, Mrs. Vale.”

“Yes, they are,” Eloise agreed as she headed toward the kitchen, ready for a cup of Mrs. K.’s strong black coffee and one of the buttery rich, cinnamon and nutfilled pastries she had yet to find the willpower to refuse.

She should have known her Carl, John and Henry could, and would, get themselves off to school on their own. They had already convinced her that they were safe at home in the apartment without an adult sitter to supervise them when she attended social engagements in the evening, hadn’t they?

They were growing up, she reminded herself, pouring coffee into a china mug, taking a pastry from the bakery box on the counter, then heading back to her bedroom. And they were also growing more and more independent. She was proud of them, of course. She didn’t want them tied to her apron strings, clinging to her forever. That wouldn’t have been fair to any of them, herself included.

But at the same time, Eloise felt just a little sad and just a little lost. She had devoted so much of her life to her beloved sons. What would she do once they were truly out on their own, especially if she no longer had Manhattan Multiples to occupy her time? She didn’t like the idea of spending her golden years not only all alone, but also without work she enjoyed.

For a fleeting instant, Eloise remembered the kiss she had shared with Bill Harper at her front door the night before, and realized that she didn’t necessarily have to be alone. But contemplating a future with Bill was more wishful thinking than anything else.

The physical and emotional attraction between them had been more than obvious. But she couldn’t, in good conscience, pursue a relationship with him under the circumstances. His views on city funding for nonprofit organizations made it impossible.

As for having to give up her work at Manhattan Multiples—work she thoroughly enjoyed—that she could control, at least to some extent. She hadn’t lost the battle to save city funding for her organization yet. And there was still a very good chance that she wouldn’t if she got her butt in gear, threw on some clothes and made an effort to get to her office sometime before noon, she reminded herself, making a face at her tousle-haired image in the bathroom mirror.

Worst case scenario, she could, and would if necessary, keep Manhattan Multiples going using her apartment as a base of operations. Granted she would have to scale down considerably, but she would continue to offer as many services as possible. And she would focus on the most important aspect of her work, the one she enjoyed the most—directing a supportive, nurturing network of people as devoted as she was to helping women cope with their multiple birth pregnancies.

She had already brought in quite a bit of money from the fund-raisers she’d been holding for Manhattan Multiples. Of course, that amount wouldn’t be nearly enough to cover the costs of maintaining the three floors Manhattan Multiples now occupied in a building on Madison Avenue. It would, however, be enough to pay some salaries, provide counseling services, some classroom instruction and some medical care to those most urgently in need of help.

The scope of her organization would certainly be smaller and the headquarters would have to be relocated, but Manhattan Multiples wouldn’t go out of existence altogether. Not if she had anything to do about it, and she had only just begun to tap her personal resources.

Reinvigorated by a hot shower, a second cup of Mrs. Kazinsky’s coffee and, yes, another pastry, along with the talk she’d had with herself, Eloise swept a brush through her hair and applied her makeup. Then she dressed quickly in tailored gray wool pants, a black cashmere turtleneck sweater and black, low-heeled leather boots. She completed her outfit with a single strand of pearls and matching pearl-cluster earrings, sophisticated but not showy, snapped the catch of her chunky gold and platinum watch band and was ready to go.

Though the weather report she’d caught on the radio stated that the outdoor temperature was hovering just above freezing, she decided to walk the short distance to her office at Manhattan Multiples. Bundled into her calf-length black cashmere wool coat she would be more than warm enough. And the brisk air and bright sunshine would surely blow away any last cobwebs that might fog her brain.

She had a lot to deal with today, and getting a late start as she already was, she couldn’t afford to be anything but at her very best.

The walk did indeed do her good. The sights and sounds of the bustling city and the people moving past her on the sidewalks with seeming strength and purpose, lifted her spirits another notch.

Yes, her beloved New York City had been down for a while following the destructive attacks by a band of mad terrorists. But the city and its people were healing, and signs of renewed faith, hope and love were visible all around her.

Especially within the walls of Manhattan Multiples, Eloise reminded herself with a slight smile as she headed toward the double glass doors that led into the warm and inviting reception area on the first of the organization’s three floors.

“Good morning, Ms. Vale,” Tony Martino greeted her as he stepped forward and opened one of the doors for her.

A personable young man, five-ten, with a sturdy build, black hair and kind brown eyes, he was the daytime security guard she’d hired after she’d started receiving threatening letters from an anonymous but frighteningly disgruntled man who seemed to despise everything Manhattan Multiples represented. Tony’s twin brother, Frank, took over as the nighttime security guard, which was extremely fitting and amused Eloise to no end.

She loved the idea of multiples looking out for the well-being of Manhattan Multiples.

“Good morning, Tony, although I should probably say good afternoon. I’m running way late today.”

“Hey, no problem, Ms. Vale. You’re the boss. Ain’t nobody I know gonna get on your case,” Tony replied with an engaging grin. “And if they do, you tell me about it and I’ll take care of them for you.”

“Thanks, Tony. I will.”

The soothing blue of the sky motif covering the wall behind the elegant antique reception desk never failed to lighten Eloise’s mood, as did the lovely mix of New Age music piped through the sound system. She recognized a favorite cut from a Danny Wright CD that had been getting lots of play lately.

And with good reason, she acknowledged, seeing Josie Tate Dunnigan, her receptionist, newly wed to Michael Dunnigan and proud mother-to-be huddled with her personal assistant, Allison Baker Perez, also newly wed to Jorge Perez, and expecting. Eloise was more and more certain she would have twins or maybe even triplets if her rapidly expanding tummy was any indication.

Love had been in the air at Manhattan Multiples for several months now, much to Eloise’s delight. She had always been a romantic at heart, and having so many of the special women she had come to care about over the past few years finally finding happiness with some very special men had given her great joy. And a great, but very secret, desire to find that same kind of happiness for herself.

Maybe that explained why she had been so attracted to Bill Harper last night. Maybe she had just been overly receptive to any possibility of love, and Bill had simply been available. Of course, that would only be the case if her attraction to Bill was something new rather than something she had first felt seventeen years ago and had continued to feel ever since.

Again Eloise remembered the kiss they’d shared, and again she realized how easily he had swept her off her feet. And would again, she warned herself, given half a chance. Unless she kept in mind the cause she had to support—a cause that was in direct opposition to Mayor Harper’s own stated goals for the city.

“Sorry I’m late,” Eloise said again to Josie and Allison as she approached the reception desk.

“I would have been surprised if you weren’t, all things considered,” Allison replied, her smile as teasing as her tone of voice.

Amazing how her formerly oh-so-prim-and-proper personal assistant had changed in the past few months, Eloise thought. Allison could still be businesslike when necessary, but she was so much more relaxed, and so much happier now. Marriage to Jorge Perez and impending motherhood seemed to have made it possible for her to reveal the more lighthearted side of her personality that she had once seemed impelled to hide.

“Nor would I,” Josie chorused, still cute as a button and still a free spirit at heart despite her own recent marriage to firefighter Michael Dunnigan and her unexpected, but thoroughly welcome, pregnancy.

Her eyes danced as merrily as Allison’s did, making Eloise wonder what kind of news the two of them might have for her. They were in such good humor, not to mention so full of devilry for it to be anything as routine as one of Manhattan Multiples’ clients successfully delivering healthy babies.

Though always a cause for celebration, Eloise was sure such an announcement wouldn’t have had them quite so…atwitter.

Only as she paused by the reception desk to collect the large sheaf of message slips Josie had ready for her did Eloise spy the source of Josie and Allison’s merriment. Spread out on the gleaming cherry wood surface of the reception desk were several of New York City’s daily papers. All were open to the Lifestyle section where photographs of the Mayor’s Ball were featured prominently.

Not just any photos of the ball, though, Eloise saw at once as she wordlessly picked up one newspaper after another and viewed the pictures more closely. Jumping off the pages were pictures of Bill and her—pictures that showed the two of them having a wonderful time together, as, of course, they had.

But there was so much more revealed in the photographs, and what she saw made Eloise blush hotly all the way to the roots of her smoothly styled ash-blond hair.

“Oh, my…” she murmured, her hands starting to tremble ever so slightly as she studied the look in Bill’s eyes as he touched the rim of the champagne glass he held with hers.

The same look was in her eyes as she smiled at him across the small table she had thought hidden away in an alcove. And it was apparent again in both their eyes as they swayed together on the dance floor, their bodies appearing to meld much more closely than she’d realized at the time.

She couldn’t believe that two mature adults, as well schooled in the importance of public behavior as she and Bill, had each let down their guards so carelessly and so completely. She didn’t know about Bill, but she hadn’t intended to wear her heart on her sleeve. Yet it appeared she had done just that, quite blatantly, in fact.

And, Eloise admitted, quite honestly, as well.

Here, for her and the whole world to see was proof that she was still in love with Bill Harper. And if the expression on his face was any indication, not only was the feeling most definitely mutual, but also a source of great delight for the newspapers’ headline writers.

“The Mayor and Manhattan Multiples Maven—Enemies No More?” read one. And “Ms. Vale v. the Mayor—All Bets Off!!!” read another of the more sensational banners under the photographs. Eloise was almost afraid to read the accompanying text, although she knew she must.

“You look lovely in the pictures,” Allison said, as if sensing her need for reassurance. “And the articles I’ve read are pretty fairly divided as to which one of you has possibly gone over to the other side.”

“Well, that’s something for which to be grateful,” Eloise replied. She quickly scanned first one article that claimed she now went along with the mayor’s cuts in funding, then another saying the mayor must certainly have been charmed into rethinking his long-held position. “Everyone could have assumed I’d given in completely. Especially considering the sappy look it obviously appears I had on my face all evening.”

“You don’t look sappy at all,” Josie retorted. “You look like a woman in love, and Mayor Harper appears to be positively smitten, as well. How could that not work in our favor?”

“Mayor Harper isn’t the type to allow personal relationships to get in the way of public policy,” Eloise pointed out pragmatically.

In fact, he wasn’t the type to allow a personal relationship to get in the way of any action he deemed necessary for the public good. She had learned that the hard way seventeen years ago when his very earliest political aspirations and involvement had been of primary importance to him. But such an in-depth explanation would only serve to stir up Josie and Allison’s curiosity that much more.

“Maybe he just hasn’t met his match till now,” Allison suggested with a knowing smile.

Her life had turned around completely since Jorge Perez had entered her life, and so had Jorge’s. The same was true of Josie and Michael. Thus Eloise chose to forgive them both for fantasizing a similar happy ending for her. She also resisted the urge to offer elaborate explanations as to why such an outcome would never be possible for her and Bill.

“I may be his match, but that gleam he seems to have in his eyes is hardly the result of affection for me,” she stated in a dismissive tone. “He’s simply enjoying our latest and first face-to-face confrontation.”

Since she and Bill hadn’t actually discussed their differing viewpoints last night, Eloise knew she was stretching the truth. But if she succeeded in throwing Allison and Josie off track, maybe the rumors of a budding romance between her and the mayor apparently already stirring in the press would be quickly put to rest.

“So you don’t feel as if you made any headway in convincing Mayor Harper to reconsider his proposed cuts to city funding?” Allison asked, her ever-present concern over the possible closing of Manhattan Multiples echoing in her voice.

“I can’t honestly say that I did,” Eloise replied, her cheeks burning all over again.

She could only imagine what Allison and Josie would think if they knew she had been so enamored of the mayor that she hadn’t brought up the issues dividing them even one time while she had been with him last night. The two young women were depending on Manhattan Multiples for their livelihoods as well as for much-needed support during their pregnancies. So were a lot of other women.

Eloise had admitted that she’d been a selfish socialite partying hearty last night, and downtime or not, she was more than a little ashamed of herself just then.

“At least a lot of people seem to think you did,” Josie pointed out, waving a hand at the newspapers. “As Allison said, the articles are pretty fairly divided. Some of the reporters seem to think progress has been made in favor of our side of the issue, and some in favor of the mayor’s side. It’s more than obvious that you’re a force to be reckoned with. Otherwise your presence at the ball with Mayor Harper wouldn’t have rated such publicity.”

“And I’d better take full advantage of it before Mayor Harper makes a final decision.” Tossing the newspapers aside, Eloise picked up the pink slips of paper containing her telephone messages and turned toward the hallway that led to her office. “Allison, make an appointment for me to meet with Mayor Harper later today. A follow-up to our outing last night seems to be in order.”

“I’ll get right on it,” Allison replied, gathering the newspapers into her arms, then following Eloise down the hallway.

Having gotten such a late start to the day, Eloise concentrated first on returning as many telephone calls as she could. Some were from acquaintances wanting to chat about the personal aspects of her date with the mayor. Those people she politely cut short. Others were from supporters of Manhattan Multiples congratulating her on having gotten the mayor’s attention at last. Those people she thanked graciously while also requesting that they continue to fight to save city funding for nonprofit organizations, reminding them the battle hadn’t actually been won yet.

Early in the afternoon, Eloise also had a visit from Leah Simpson, the pregnant homeless woman she and the staff of Manhattan Multiples had made a special effort to help over the past few months. Leah now had a small but tidy apartment of her own. She was also currently on paid maternity leave from her job as a clerk at Manhattan Multiples, and had been keeping busy caring for her newborn triplet daughters, fondly and appreciatively named Eloise, Allison and Josie.

All three babies, dressed in darling little outfits and secured safely in the triple-seat stroller Eloise had given Leah at the baby shower they’d held for her at the office, were glowing with good health. Leah, too, seemed to be doing well, though she was understandably tired.

With the help of various friends she’d made at Manhattan Multiples, however, she seemed to be coping with the stress of caring for three tiny babies. And finally more confident of her own ability to take care of herself and her babies, she no longer seemed inclined to reconcile with the alcoholic and abusive husband who had left her when she was pregnant.

The only negative aspect of Eloise’s day came in the form of yet another in a series of increasingly angry anonymous letters that arrived with the afternoon mail. So far, nothing overt had happened at Manhattan Multiples as a result of the threatening letters. But they had been of enough concern to Eloise that she was grateful to have security guards.

Today’s letter included accusations that her organization in general and Eloise in particular had conspired to break up a man’s family. So the threats were coming from the husband of one of their clients, she thought, having not been completely sure until then of the letter writer’s connection to Manhattan Multiples.

But who was he, and more important, who among Manhattan Multiples’ many clients was related to him? She would be the one most in danger if the man became enraged enough to do physical harm because she would be the one normally most close at hand.

Eloise would have to ask the various staff members if they knew of anyone on Manhattan Multiples’ list of clients who might possibly be currently involved in a problematic relationship or had talked about difficulties of any kind in her marriage. She would also have to seriously consider contacting the police.

She didn’t want to panic either the staff or their clients, but neither did she want to endanger anyone by failing to take proper protective measures. The Martino brothers provided a certain degree of security. But even they could be hurt if the letter writer was as crazy as he had now begun to sound, and suddenly turned violent.

By the time Eloise had sorted through the rest of her mail, nibbling on a tuna sandwich as she scribbled responses for Allison to type, it was after three o’clock. Surprised at how fast the time had flown by, she sat back in her chair, ready to relax.

Then she remembered her request of Allison earlier to set up an appointment for her to meet with the mayor. She reached out to buzz her on the intercom, but before she could, Allison bustled into the office as quickly as her burgeoning belly would allow, a frown on her normally sunny face.

“I know, I know. I was supposed to make an appointment for you to meet with Mayor Harper,” she said, sitting wearily in one of the two wing chairs facing Eloise’s desk.

“No luck?”

“I’ve been trying for hours just to get through to his chief of staff. The receptionist kept putting me on hold, then conveniently disconnecting my call. When Wally Phillips finally deigned to speak to me, he told me the mayor was all booked up, not only today, but also every day for the next two weeks. He said there was no way Mayor Harper could spare you even five minutes of his precious time. I’m sorry, Eloise, but I’m not sure what else I can do to get you a slot on the mayor’s busy schedule.”

“Nothing that I can think of, either,” Eloise replied. “Thanks for trying, though.” She pushed away from her desk resolutely. “Now it’s time for me to take matters into my own hands.”

“How do you intend to do that?” Allison looked up at her warily.

“I’m going over to Mayor Harper’s office right now, appointment or not, and I’m going to make my presence there known to all the reporters and photographers who hang around City Hall. Mayor Harper will have to see me then or he’ll end up losing all the benefit he got from those pictures in the papers this morning. I don’t think �Jilted Socialite Angrily Demands Audience with Mayor’ would play well with his constituents, do you?”

“No, it most certainly wouldn’t,” Allison answered with a delighted laugh. “Shall I call the limousine service for you?”

“Why, yes, that sounds like a good idea,” Eloise agreed. “I could probably get there faster on foot at this time of day, but my arrival wouldn’t be nearly as attention getting, would it?”

“Not nearly.” Allison laughed again as she pushed out of the chair.

“Twins,” Eloise said.

“What?”

Allison paused in the doorway of Eloise’s office and eyed her with surprise.

“Twins, at least. Maybe triplets. You’re getting awfully big awfully fast, sweetie.”

“Oh, please, don’t say that,” Allison pleaded, a hint of fear in her lovely eyes. “I can’t imagine how I’m going to handle one baby, much less multiples.”

“You’ll have lots of help, of course. That’s why I started Manhattan Multiples in the first place, and that’s why I have every intention of keeping our organization going—to help you and lots of other pregnant women. But first I have to have a little talk with the mayor.”

“I’ll call the limousine service.”

“Have you thought about scheduling a sonogram with Dr. Cross?” Eloise continued, still eyeing her assistant with consideration.

“Oh, it’s way too soon.”

“Not if you’re having multiples.”

Allison, looking just a little green around the gills, rolled her eyes and hurried out of Eloise’s office, leaving Eloise the one now laughing with delight.




Chapter Four


“Yes, James, I understand how important it is to stand firm on my proposed cuts to city funding for nonprofit organizations. I wouldn’t have initiated them in the first place if I hadn’t thought they were necessary for the good of the city as a whole.”

Sitting back in his desk chair, Mayor Bill Harper barely contained a sigh of exasperation as he reassured yet another supporter that he hadn’t gone soft on special interests. James Hargrove, CEO of Power Industries, Inc.—a major company that would benefit greatly if New York City could be pulled out of its recession—seemed somewhat mollified.

“Well, you can’t blame me for being concerned, Mr. Mayor,” James replied formally, foregoing his usual Bill-old-buddy form of address to emphasize the seriousness with which he viewed their conversation. “You seemed to be getting mighty cozy with that Vale woman at the ball last night. I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s been wondering if she managed to win you over to her side of the fence. She’s one forceful little woman, from what I’ve seen, and she certainly hasn’t been shy about making her feelings known where your proposed cuts are concerned.”

“I don’t blame you at all, James. I admit I found Ms. Vale’s company most enjoyable at the ball. And yes, Ms. Vale can be a very charming and persuasive woman. But let me assure you again that my position on city funding hasn’t changed because we attended the ball together. Surely you know me well enough by now to trust my judgment.”

“Yes, of course, Mr. Mayor.”

“I appreciate your concern, James. But there’s absolutely no need for you to worry.”

“It’s important that we get this city back on its feet again, not just for a business like mine, but for the population as a whole,” Hargrove blustered, obviously eager not to appear totally self-serving.

“And that’s my main goal right now,” Bill assured him one last time. “Take care, James, and please keep in touch.”

“Will do, Mr. Mayor.”

Reaching out, Bill cradled the telephone receiver. Then he sat back again and finally allowed himself to utter the sigh he’d been holding inside himself for the better part of the day. Caused by annoyance more than anything, it nonetheless held more than a hint of weariness, as well.

He had arrived at his office in City Hall just after six o’clock that morning—long before he’d expected any of his staff members to show up since they, too, had attended the ball last night. Though he didn’t make a habit of it, he could get by on five or six hours of sleep when necessary—a good thing today because he’d barely managed that amount last night.

His mind had been too full of thoughts of Eloise Vale for him to do much more than toss and turn in bed until he’d finally given up on sleep altogether shortly before dawn.

The time he had spent with her—from the moment she had opened her apartment door to him until the moment he had ended, reluctantly, the kiss they’d shared, much to her sons’ amusement—had been truly wonderful.

He had prepared himself for a cool and distant, oh-so-proper and polite reception from her. That she had been warm and welcoming, open and obviously at ease with him had surprised him only momentarily.




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/nikki-benjamin/prince-of-the-city/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.



Если текст книги отсутствует, перейдите по ссылке

Возможные причины отсутствия книги:
1. Книга снята с продаж по просьбе правообладателя
2. Книга ещё не поступила в продажу и пока недоступна для чтения