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
After a night of heavy sleep, Estel felt like she had stones in her eyelids and muscles the following day and had to force herself out of bed. Seeing her tired appearance in the mirror, she determined she couldn't let Michael take any pleasure in further humiliating her because of his vile conduct the night before. So, she sneaked into the kitchen to tell Shayne she was sick and would be staying in her room for the day. Shayne's empathy prompted her to quickly send her packing while promising to return with tea and toast. Estel didn't even have the strength to object, though she questioned if she could get anything past the lump that appeared to have landed permanently in her throat. When Estel returned to her room, she sat down in a chair by the window and stared at the fresh snowfall, wondering how she would muster the strength to stay until she had achieved the goal that had brought her there. A part of her had almost resigned herself to the knowledge that as long as she was in M
"What do you care?" Estel asked him scornfully. "I've got all the chapters you've done so far here in my room, and I plan to work on them later if that's what's worrying you." Michael, it appeared, was gritting his teeth to prevent an equally angry response. He made an outward show of trying to calm himself by closing his eyes for a while. There was a sad acceptance in his gaze when he gazed at her once again. He drooped weary-eyed onto the sofa's end, prompting Estel to swiftly lift her legs out of his way. However, her look softened when Estel felt a little stab of anxiety at Michael's gesture of exhausted dispiritedness, which was so out of character for him. Maybe he indeed did have a sickness. An instant later, however, as he raised his head and stared at her with deadly purpose, all doubt was removed. He responded, "All right, Estel," with determination. "I guess I have to apologize again." Estel was skeptical of his attempt at reconciliation because his tone didn't seem contr
When Michael brought up a topic that caused her extreme discomfort, Estel jumped. He went on to say, "I wouldn't have touched them if they hadn't," with a tone of hard decisiveness. Because I wasn't in love with any of them and I have strong opinions about child rearing and I don't agree with abortion, he said, studying her face as the color drained from it. The scorn he displayed in response to her conduct caught her off guard. With Michael, it was always latent, but Estel never seemed able to get used to the idea that it was there since it always came as such a shock. Michael replied with stern purpose, grabbing her wrist in his palm as she made an involuntary motion of denial, "I've been wondering since the night you got here whether you shared my views on abortion, Estel. "I've been wondering if perhaps there was an unwanted result of that night, we made love unwanted on your part, that is," he bluntly stated. What, if anything, occurred as an outcome of that night, Estel?' he in
When Estel landed in New York, she was shocked to see Henrick Larson waiting for her. As she peered at him above the heads of the crowd, she couldn't imagine how he had known of her arrival. Upon emerging from her room at Michael's home, and seeing that he had left the house shortly after leaving her room, she had taken advantage of the circumstance to ask Albert Jones to drive her to the airport in Aspen. She had been vague about why she had to leave, stating only that she had to attend to an "emergency" in New York. Her guilt about Michael was buried under the weight of the other feelings she was experiencing, and she accepted that it was simply another burden she would have to face. When she reached him, Henrick's expression was generally frustrated, but once he saw the stress in her face and the defeat in her eyes, he stifled his natural impulses and gave her a harsh hug. The moment he let go of her, he held her away from him, shook his head in exasperation, and moaned. "Damn it,
For the following two days, Estel did not leave the house and instead dove headfirst into her mind to figure out who she was and where she was heading. Though she was physically and psychologically spent by Sunday evening, she was generally pleased with her findings. No longer did she feel the need to berate herself professionally. In general, she was pleased with her output. This was something she'd always done. She felt no desire to explore other avenues, but rather a renewed commitment to excel at what she was currently doing. In a twist of fate, Michael should be credited with expanding the scope of that achievement's viability. He, not Peter, had been successful in convincing her of the value of literature outside of the genres she had previously regarded acceptable for publishing. She even found herself smiling as she thought back on her prudish past, wondering how she had ever thought she was qualified to be the last judge of everyone's appropriateness. Each book has a unique
A manuscript was left in the middle of Henrick's desk a few weeks later when Estel came into his office. He inquired, "What's this?" with a sluggish lack of interest. The magazine he was clutching in his arms depicted faraway paradise islands, proving that he had caught spring fever once again. He always said he would go away, but he never did. Instead, he just waited until his spring fever subsided and his normal level of energy returned. Estel sat on the edge of his desk, dangling a toned leg over it, and grinned up at him. " Michael 's book," she put it pithily. "It's ready to go to press." "Oh?" Henrick's eyebrow was lifted in a carefree manner as he attempted to conceal the curiosity that Estel knew was eating him alive. For weeks, she had ignored his prodding, refusing to share Michael's book with anybody. The process of editing it had been far too sensitive to risk discussing with someone of Henrick's confessed pessimistic attitude. "Is it any good?" he questioned, his tone i
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