Estel gave a knowing glance and a tiny smile as she acknowledged the reality of that assertion. "No doubt," she murmured wryly. With an eyebrow raised, she said, "He isn't exactly happy about your change of subject matter." She asked, "What is the subject matter?" she inquired suspiciously. Michael's face went expressionless, but he looked at her intently as he said, "It's a psychological study of a woman," he stated quietly. "A woman who buries her potential out of misguided notions of what's really important in life." When Michael said, "You're going to do a study," Estel halted the frantic pacing she'd begun and gazed at him in utter disbelief. An in-depth analysis of a woman's psyche?" she said in disbelief, not realizing the insult in her tone. The hardness and determination in Michael's face brought back memories for Estel of the night he brought her home when he had been so different from the two other times she had seen him. She had almost forgotten how hard he could be and
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
Estel, who was eight months pregnant, sat at her desk, engrossed in editing manuscripts. Michael enters the room, a mix of excitement and hesitation evident on his face. “Hey, love.” Michael was grinning widely “Hi there. What brings you by?” Estel Looks up, smiling at the sight of Michael. “I have something to tell you.” Michael takes a seat opposite Estel, fidgeting nervously. “Is everything alright?” Estel looks concerned. “Oh, everything's fine, more than fine actually. Next month, I'll be heading to Canada to promote my books.” Michael clasped his hands. Estel's expression changes, a flicker of concern crossing her face. “Canada? But Doctor Jill advised against traveling, especially now.” Estel’s brows furrowed. “I know, I know, but this is a big opportunity. Nancy Wilson, the literary agent, is organizing everything, and she wants me there for a series of events.” Michael explained. “And who else is going
The expression on Michael's face conveyed a mix of chagrined amusement and annoyance at her choice to bring up his prior actions that he deeply regretted, as well as her timing in doing so. But suddenly, his mouth twisted up in a sneaky smile, and his eyes gleamed with the same naughty mirth dancing in Estel's. After a split second, he had her held hopelessly beneath him, and he glared menacingly down at her during the entire ordeal. He muttered in a frightening tone, "You're right, woman," as she resisted and laughed while being held down by him. He held her wrists while he lifted himself slightly to cast a leering, appraising view over her body. He said, "Taking you to court might be a little drastic, but I am entitled to some revenge for the torture you've put me through these past months, and I think I know just how to go about it." He said this as he raked a leering, appraising eye over her body. He asked the question in a tone that suggested he was a prosecuting attorney with s
Afterward, Michael felt more at ease and continued with his explanation. "When I saw you in Hendrick's office that day, I knew I couldn't leave things as they were. I'd been thinking about you for months, wanting you, and hating myself for what I'd done to you and for what I'd ruined. I had already chosen to write The Essence of a Woman. When you stepped in, I realized I had the ideal opportunity for a second chance. It was your sort of book; it had the potential to gain your respect, and while you were working on it, I believed I could win you over. Estel's mouth scrunched up in response to his statements about earning her respect. Still, Michael did not allow her an opportunity to respond to his statement. "Only I kept repeating myself with you," he said with regret, "making the same mistakes repeatedly." "I couldn't keep my hands off you, and I couldn't keep from trying to break through that shell of yours and get at the woman I sensed was there. As a result, I ended up making you
Michael faced her, staring down with a sardonic and caustic attitude that made it clear that he was now a man... Estel sees him as a man in every sense of the word. After that, a serious look came over his face, and he again turned his head aside. He stated it with a strain in his voice, "I'm canceling our agreement, Estel," and the tone of his voice was harsh. Estel found herself suddenly gasping for air, and she began to shake where she was standing until she noticed a log that had just fallen nearby. She quickly moved to sit down on the log to prevent herself from falling. She questioned him, "What exactly do you mean, Michael?" with a lack of expression that belied the riot of sensations that was going on inside of her. "What exactly do you mean?" He stepped closer to her but refused to look into her eyes, even as he did so. "You're free to go," he said gloomily. "You don't have to give me a child... and you don't have to stay married to me." Estel momentarily suppressed her exp
After a little pause in which they were both silent and Estel made no effort to break it, Mrs. Jensen proceeded, her tone more forceful and her stance more upright. "Fortunately, in those days, it wasn't easy to find someone willing to break the law that way, and I ended up going to a midwife who was less than effective." She cracked a wry grin without amusement. "When I stepped into that room and saw the primitive, unsanitary conditions..." She simply chuckled. "Well, I turned right around and walked out again. And I've never regretted doing so." After that, she shifted her attention to Estel while sitting in her chair with a thoughtful expression. "I tried to be a good mother to Michael, and I did love him, but he was always such an exuberant, affectionate boy, and I've never let my feelings show. Perhaps he interpreted my reserve as indicating that I didn't love him. But it wasn't and isn't true. The trouble is, I don't know how to let him know that since I find it as difficult now
By the time they boarded the plane to go to Aspen to visit Michael's parents, Estel was at her wit's end. She prayed to God for a miracle so that Michael would recognize her deep love for him. It would be a miracle in their marriage if only he could bring himself to love her as much as she loved him. Estel hoped that Michael's parents would convince him to love her. When Estel first saw the tall, stately, and beautiful woman who was Michael's mother and his father's equally tall but less awesome figure, she felt a surge of animosity toward the couple. She wondered if they were the key to Michael's inability to respond to the love she was offering him. Estel's first impression of Michael's mother and father caused her to feel this way. Estel had thought that Michael had made it past his childhood difficulties. Still, the people in his life may have permanently damaged him and given him an icy hole in his heart—a spot that he desired love to so severely fill. However, as Mrs. Jensen c
Dr. Jill's tone was tense and insistent as he said, "For the love of God, why not?!?" "Without honesty, a marriage is not good for much, Estel. Your husband has the right to know that you're not the type of woman to be so callous, and you have the right to his unstinting regard. Why are you refraining from honest communication?" As Estel closed her eyes, she pondered how to explain the situation, even though she wasn't entirely sure of the cause. "For one thing," she said as she opened her eyes and walked aside to peer into the dimly lit garden, "the child was his." She took a momentary pause and looked back at Dr. Jill, during which she noticed a dawning of comprehension in his eyes. She stated this with a delay in her voice that made it clear, at least to Dr. Jill, how profoundly the pain of that hatred had affected her. "He hated me when he found out I'd aborted his child," she added. "For all that I know, he probably still does," she said with a softer tone. Dr. Jill was about t
When Piers Shaw pointed her toward Lars Pederson's library, she was so focused on following him that she hardly heard him whisper, "Certainly." She had a strong desire to be left alone, but she was astute enough to recognize that Piers wouldn't abandon her if he believed she required assistance. She also realized that, at this time, having Piers assist her would be far preferable to asking Michael to accompany her. It was perfectly conceivable that Piers would go and tell her husband about her sudden unsteadiness if she refused to take his arm, and she couldn't risk that happening for the time being since she couldn't afford to. Just as they were about to enter the library, she heard Dr. Jill's soothing voice calling her name. "Estel! How good it is to see you again!" She had the need to flee, but after a little pause during which she was undecided about what to do, she gently turned around to find the elderly guy walking toward her with a warm greeting gleaming over his kind face.
Estel was overjoyed to see that her efforts had unquestionably been effective as Michael gave her first a fleeting look, then returned his sight to her a second time, his eyes widening with admiration as he took in the image she produced. Michael had arrived late and had to rush to get dressed. When he walked in, she was striking a nonchalant stance in front of the windows, even though her heart raced with panic. Her manner, however, was calm and collected. The shell-white, body-hugging dress was silky and flowed over one shoulder, revealing the milky tan. The garment clung closely to her shape and emphasized her curves. The only other jewelry she wore was a pair of gold earrings that dangled from her ears and a gold slave bracelet that she wore on the naked right side of her wrist. Her tresses were pulled away from her face and rolled into a complete roll at the back of her head. The light hanging above brought out the shimmering highlights in her hair. She was aware that she was be