The following two days were surprisingly more enjoyable for Estel than anticipated, primarily because Michael was nowhere to be seen. The morning following their argument in the study, she came out of her room to discover that he had mysteriously departed town. Even though Shayne had no idea where he had gone, she was unconcerned. "He does that sometimes," she added carelessly. "He's probably off doing research somewhere for the book or another one he has in mind. Since the two of you wouldn't start work for a couple of days, he decided to use the time profitably some other way. He has that look." "That look?" Estel questioned in puzzlement. Shayne chuckled nostalgically and referred to "his working look." "When Michael is in one of his working moods, he goes at it with total concentration. It's the same when he plays. Whatever he does, he does it wholeheartedly." Estel was uneasy by the news, but because she could find no rationale for her anxiety, she decided to put it out of her
She looked at Michael's dad and realized she felt the same way about him for different reasons. The man had the faraway, concerned countenance that indicated a typical absentminded professor. In fact, he made her think about... Estel almost tossed the image on the desk as her mind erupted. Her chest was heaving, and her eyes were wide with shock. She couldn't help but think about Peter when she saw Michael's dad. Peter is exposed to the egocentric, narrow-minded person he really is without her affection. Alarmed and surprised by the thoughts that had seized control of her, Estel wrapped her arms about herself to ward off the unexpected chill. She had no reason to feel that way about Peter. She appeared to be wondering urgently. Hadn't he been the most excellent thing that had happened to her? Didn't she spend her whole life admiring and loving this great, compassionate genius? Distracted, she left her desk and began to walk about the room. She couldn't get the sentence given her wh
Michael said nonchalantly, "I want your opinion of a scene I just recorded today," as he took his iPhone from his pocket. He then gave it to her. Then he said, "Turn it down low. I know what I've said, and I'll be able to hear enough to recall it. I'd rather see its effect on you to tell if I've got what I was striving for." He smiled languidly, his eyes warm with amusement and something Estel couldn't quite put her finger on. He hesitated, adding in silence, "Verbally," but it was clear what he meant: "Besides, the nature of the scene is such that you might rather not share it with me." Estel shrugged, surprised by his remarks but naïve of what was to come. Michael lay on the couch, one arm behind his head and the other resting on his thigh, while he watched her with half-closed eyes. Estel focused on the iPhone in her hands; she heard Michael dictating in a seductively quiet voice. It was the same tone he'd used when he made love to her, and it brought back memories. An Indian man
Estel joined Michael for breakfast in his study the following day, her demeanor calm and professional despite the barriers she had built the night before to protect herself from him. She was adamant that he would never again be able to breach her walls, and her aloofness toward him was designed to serve as a stipulation for their future interactions. When she realized that Michael's attitude was similar to hers, she felt uneasy about it. There were no warm, lazy, amused stares now, no teasing familiarity, nothing but harsh professionalism and attention on the job that left her feeling strangely empty and a bit despondent. "Here's the first chapter," Michael remarked, setting the pages on a small table he had apparently brought in after she'd left his presence the night before. "And a red pencil," he added in a distant, dry tone, indicating that he fully expected her to use it extensively. "I'll be at the typewriter working on the next one if you have any questions." Did Michael only
Shayne put on an act of shock. She said, "Michael?" in utter disbelief. She assumed a contemplative glare and said, "Why, Michael has never been in love that I can recall," adding later, "Of course, he hasn't been a monk either." Since this depiction of Michael aligned with how she perceived the man, Estel replied with delight. She said, "Ha!" with triumph. "My guess is that he hasn't! Based on his past, I am unsure if a monastery would even let him come inside for a visit!" With a furious cluck of outrage, Shayne tossed her golden head. She said, "Oh, Estel," in defense of her boss and friend. "You don't honestly believe all that garbage about Michael, do you? You, of all people, ought to know it was just made up to sell books!" Estel did not buy it. She laughed and said, "All of it?" "You've just said that he hasn't been a monk." Although Estel had not yet indicated an interest in coffee, Shayne shrugged and went to the counter to retrieve cups and saucers. "Of course he hasn't,"
Michael Jensen initiated yet another shift in Estel's demeanor at this point. Mandy was a helpful companion for Estel on her quest for entertainment, even if the younger girl looked perplexed by Estel's constant need to occupy her time when she wasn't doing Michael's bidding. She has started to take on a regular rhythm. Skiing in the mornings, Estel slowly improved her skiing abilities. She had lunch and a brief break, was carried by Mandy to whatever activity her companions had invented for the afternoon, returned home for dinner, and so on. Michael had the evenings to himself, and after dinner each day, Estel would join him in the study for what was meant to be a review of his day's writing. Estel had discovered her own way of managing this specific thorn in her side as well, however. Typically, she would take the pages Michael had completed that day to her room before dinner, read them the few times she had to get ready, and then make nice sounds when he discussed his job with he
Estel wished she could take back the words the instant they left her mouth, but it was too late, and she remained calm in the face of Michael's unexpected curiosity. To which she said, “Is that how you think of that room?” She fearlessly asked him, “Is that how you think of me?” Michael seemed oddly cautious, as if he were waiting for something to happen. What he had been anticipating for a long time. Well,” he shrugged, “there are some similarities.” Estel snapped, “Such as what?” Michael looked at her with closed eyes and then spoke in monotone. When asked, “Do you remember the first time we met, Estel?” her quick, disdainful response was, “How could I forget it?” He disregarded her allusion to the later portion of the evening they'd spent together months before. “Are you aware that everything you said to me that night was a repetition of things I'd heard from my mother ever since I started writing?” Estel looked at him incredulously, needing to deny any similarities between hi
Michael stepped back just a little, teasing her mouth as he demanded physical obedience. He whispered to her, "Why can't you, Estel?" His golden eyes swept her face sleepily and said, "Why can't you stop me?" Asking her sensually, "Tell me," he then briefly stopped her from answering by resuming his passionate kiss. When the kiss was over, he requested it again with his eyes, and Estel looked up at him with a look of pitiful, abject helplessness. "I don't know, Michael," she said tremblingly. "You take me over when you do this. I don't want it to happen, but I-" Michael's voice was low and indulgently sensual as he said, "You forget everything but what I make you feel?" With barely a nod, Estel closed her eyes to shield them from his triumphant expression. With, "You forget about love-marriage... babies?" Michael pushed her further. Estel's eyes sprung wide at that, and she glanced up at Michael in stunned amazement. "No!" she cried out in shock, bracing herself against the body th