Love Me Tonight Read Free

men.”
    Heather ignored the taunt, for she was accustomed to the attitudes of men from certain developing countries. At five minutes past twelve, she got her chance to address the group, and at the end of her prepared statement, she added her views on the way in which some delegates wasted opportunities to make a difference in the lives of disadvantaged children.
    Later, after congratulations on her talk, Mr. Taliah, one of the delegates, asked, “Would you join my wife and me for dinner in our suite this evening? My wife doesn’t go out because she isn’t in purdah. She’s a modern woman and she hates the snide remarks that she gets.” Heather agreed; she knew Mr. Taliah and knew he was married.
    However, the minute Heather walked into the room that night, she knew the man had lied. It wasn’t a suite, but a room like her own. She realized the delegate intended a seduction. Without a word, she whirled around and walked out.
    Back in her room, she had to admit that the calla lilies lifted her spirits, reminding her Judson Philips admired her as a person.
    I must remember to send him a note of thanks, she thought to herself. He went to a lot of trouble and great expense to send me these flowers. They’re still so beautiful. She threw her briefcase on the bed and heaved a long and heavy sigh. She lived a life that most people would not consider normal. At times, neither did she. In her mind she saw Judson Philips’s handsome face, remembered his gracious manner and wondered if he could fill the awful void in her life. But after what she’d seen of her parents’ bitter and loveless marriage, she doubted the wisdom of letting herself care for any man.
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    â€œWould you like me to request an apology from Mr. Taliah?” the chief of protocol asked her the nextmorning when she related the incident from the previous night as she was required to do.
    â€œOf course not,” she said. “It goes with the job.”
    She’d made light of it, but she would be glad to set foot in Baltimore that Tuesday afternoon. She liked Egypt, especially the Egyptians—who welcomed her as a sister—but she had little use for pompous diplomats who went to these conferences merely to exploit their status.
    Her mission finished, she took one last whiff of the calla lilies in her room and—a smile on her face—made her way to the airport, home and dreams of Judson Philips.
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    She walked into her office Wednesday morning, locked her briefcase in her desk drawer and went to Scott’s office. “Hi,” he said when she walked in after one knock. “How’d it go?”
    â€œSame old, same old. Great ideas, an excellent report that will be widely circulated and nothing substantial will change,” she complained.
    â€œGood grief, Heather. You’re becoming so cynical.”
    â€œNot really. But I see the same guys at every one of these meetings, and it seems they get less courteous every time. Now, you! How did Judson Philips know I was at the Hilton in Cairo?”
    â€œI know both of you, and I wouldn’t introduce either of you to just anybody. What happened? Didn’t you like him? He needs some cheering up, and so do you.”
    â€œHe sent me two dozen of the most beautiful callalilies I ever saw. How would he know that calla lilies are my favorite flower? You don’t even know that.”
    Scott leaned back in his swivel desk chair and rocked. “I said, didn’t you like him?”
    â€œDon’t ask stupid questions. Why wouldn’t I?”
    â€œThat is not the answer to my question,” he continued.
    â€œI liked him, Scott,” Heather admitted. “But don’t try to start anything between us. My life isn’t an easy one. My dad isn’t getting any better, and I want to spend all the free time I can muster with him. And you know I’m being considered for an ambassador post. I have to focus on that