SIX

RAOUL WAS WAITING for him in the stableyard. It was the fourth time in the last two weeks that the servant had felt compelled to meet him as soon as Philip rode in from the irrigation project. There was a worried expression on Raoul’s face. Philip felt a sudden tension grip him and forced himself to relax. Pandora. It had to be Pandora, but it was probably nothing more than one of her usual brouhahas.

He swung down from the saddle and threw the reins to the waiting groom. “Well?” he asked tersely. “What now?”

“It’s Miss Madchen,” Raoul said hesitantly.

“I guessed that.” Philip’s tone was caustic as he set off briskly for the house. “It’s always Pandora. What precisely has she done now?”

“She has a baby.”

Philip stopped in midstride. “Would you mind repeating that? Very slowly.”

“She came back from the bazaar this morning with an infant,” Raoul said unhappily. “I’m afraid the house is in something of a turmoil.”

“She bought a baby at the bazaar?”

“No, I think she found it.” Raoul’s wide forehead creased in a frown. “At least I believe that’s what she said. Everything was very confusing at the time.”

Philip shook his head. Only Pandora was able to bewilder his usually tranquil servant to this extent. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

Raoul nodded reluctantly. “She also brought some people with her. I gathered they have something to do with the baby.”

“People?”

“A snake charmer, two street musicians, a water vendor, and a young woman who is doing a great deal of caterwauling.” His expression was pained. “She has a most distressingly shrill voice.”

“Oh, my Lord. Why the hell did you let them all in?”

Raoul shrugged helplessly. “Miss Madchen was quite determined.”

“Miss Madchen is always determined. That doesn’t mean you can’t say no.”

“I seem to have problems there. She’s very difficult to refuse when she wants something.”

Philip couldn’t argue with that. In the two weeks Pandora had been back in Sedikhan she had managed to turn his normally serene household upside down. She had been in so many scrapes, both in the bazaar and in the village, that he had been tempted to confine her to his compound. Obviously he should have done just that before this occurrence. A baby, for heaven’s sake!

“I’m sure it was all done for the best of reasons,” Raoul offered tentatively. “Miss Madchen is a very warmhearted young lady.”

“That’s generous of you,” Philip said dryly. “Particularly since there’s every chance you’ll have to baby-sit this infant as you did that tiger cub six years ago.”

“Oh dear, I hope not. I know very little about babies.” He brightened. “Miss Madchen appears to be very attached to him. Perhaps she may want to take care of the child herself.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Philip muttered. He took the front stairs two steps at a time. “Where is she?”

“In the front salon,” Raoul said. “There wasn’t room in her suite.”

Philip heard the music as soon as he entered the foyer. If you could call it music. There was some kind of stringed instrument fighting for dominance over the boom of a drum. Philip grimaced. “And you said the woman was shrill?”

“You haven’t heard her yet,” Raoul said gloomily.

Philip heard her a moment later, a loud wailing that was enough to set his nerves on edge. “Damn, couldn’t you shut her up?”

“Miss Madchen appeared to think it was a healthy outlet.”

“She would.” Philip was striding swiftly down the hall toward the salon. “Order the car ready, Raoul. We’re about to clean house.”

“Oh yes, sir. That would be splendid,” Raoul said with heartfelt relief. “I’ll see to it at once.”

The sight that met Philip’s eyes when he walked into the salon was enough to set his head spinning.

Two musicians dressed in brightly striped robes were sitting in the center of the Aubusson carpet, one playing a zither, the other a kettledrum. The wailing woman was huddled in a heap on the couch, her face covered with a portion of her brown robe. The scarlet-garbed water vendor, with his traditional girdle of copper cups and goatskin water bag, was arguing volubly with a young man in a white turban by the window. In the midst of the tempest, Pandora sat cross-legged on the floor by the musicians, calmly playing with a dark-haired baby of perhaps seven months.

“Pandora.” Philip tried to keep his voice level. “Would you be so good as to tell me what is going on here?”

She looked up with an expression of relief. “Oh, Philip, I’m so glad you’re home.” She jumped to her feet, snatched up the baby, and hurried across the room. “They won’t listen to me. I showed them the medallion, but I’m a woman and they don’t seem to have the least respect for our sex. I don’t really think Hanar likes the idea of the snakes, but they won’t listen to her either, and she’s afraid of her father-in-law.” She stopped to catch her breath. “You run this damn country. Tell them they can’t do it.”

“Can’t do what?” he asked blankly.

“Put a snake in his playpen,” Pandora said impatiently. “I don’t care if it is only a harmless little grass snake. It can’t be sanitary.” She shivered. “Besides, the whole idea is creepy.” Her hand was rubbing the baby’s back caressingly. “Imagine putting one of those things in with this darling.”

“I don’t want to imagine anything at all,” he said, trying to hold on to his patience. “I want to be told, very clearly and precisely.”

“But I am telling you,” she said indignantly. “They put a snake in the baby’s playpen. There was actually one curled up on the mat sleeping in the sun when I first saw the baby by the booth at the bazaar, but I snatched it out and threw it away.”

“It’s obvious that we’re going to have to play question and answer.” He stabbed his finger at the weeping woman, who broke off in midwail, her eyes wide with apprehension. “Who’s that?”

“Hanar, the baby’s mother. She’s really quite nice, if a trifle wishy-washy.”

“The one who is afraid of her father-in-law and allows snakes to be put in the baby’s playpen. Now, who is the father in question?”

Pandora pointed to the young man standing by the window being berated by the huge, bearded water vendor. “Beldar, the snake charmer, and that’s his father, Damien, the water vendor.”

Philip gestured to the musicians sitting on the floor, then gritted his teeth as the zither emitted a particularly shrill shriek. “Do they have to do that?”

“Well, I couldn’t stop them. They’re Beldar’s brothers and absolutely crazy about the baby. It’s the first boy born in the family. They think their music soothes the baby.” She glanced down at the docile little boy in her arms. “You know, they may be right. Maybe he has a thing for heavy metal.”

“Well, I do not,” Philip said decisively. “Now that we have the cast of characters, let’s have the scenario. You were at the bazaar this morning. You saw the snake in the baby’s playpen and you took it out. What happened next?”

“Beldar came running up and tried to put it back in the playpen.” Pandora’s eyes were flashing with indignation. “I couldn’t let him do that, could I? So I snatched up the baby and brought him here, until we could pound some sense into Beldar’s head. He picked up the rest of the family as we went through the bazaar. I really think it’s his father’s fault. According to Hanar, he’s very ambitious for his sons.”

“Why does Beldar want the snake in the playpen?” The absurd picture was at last becoming clear. Only a few more pieces to the puzzle and he would be able to restore order to this madhouse.

“His father told him he should do it to get the baby accustomed to reptiles. You see, Beldar’s the success in the family, and his father wants the baby to follow in Beldar’s footsteps.” She lowered her voice. “Just between you and me, those musicians will never make it beyond the poverty level.”

“I can see why. Their music has all the charm of a rusty nail being scraped across a blackboard.”

“That’s why Damien wants his grandson to go into the snake-charming business,” Pandora said reasonably. “I can see that. Musicians have to be damn good to make it, while snake charmers don’t have to—”

“Pandora,” Philip interrupted. “Just tell me what I have to do to get these people out of my salon.”

“It’s very simple. Just do the voodoo you do so well. In short, intimidate the hell out of them. Make them promise not to put a snake back into the baby’s playpen on pain of instant beheading or something.”

“Is that all? Why didn’t you say so?” He brushed by her and strode into the center of the confusion. Pandora jiggled the baby on her hip as she watched Philip draw a royal cloak of arrogance about himself. No one could be more menacing than Philip when he set his mind to it. He moved from the musicians to the snake charmer to the water vendor to the weeping mother, speaking incisively and leaving no room for argument. Then he crossed back to Pandora and took the baby from her arms. “Stand aside,” he said. “I hope we’re going to have a parade.”

She shifted to the side of the archway. He put the baby in the chastened mother’s arms and returned to stand beside Pandora. He crossed his arms over his chest, his legs slightly astride. She had a sudden vision of Yul Brynner standing in that same pose in The King and I and had to smother a smile. All they needed was the “March of the Siamese Children,” but thank heavens these musicians weren’t going to supply it. They were scrambling to their feet and snatching up their instruments. The two men nodded nervously to her as they practically ran out of the room. Damien followed, scowling, his shoulders set and proud. The last to leave were Beldar with Hanar and the baby. The young mother gave her a tentative smile and scurried from the room.

“You did that very well.” Pandora turned to Philip with a satisfied smile. “Of course, I’ll have to go visit the booth periodically to make sure they don’t backslide.”

“No! I don’t want you anywhere near that clan again.”

“But I can’t just let—”

He held up his hand. “I’ll send a man down to check it out every other day,” he said. “But you stay out of it.”

“If you insist.” Her expression was suddenly wistful. “I would like to see the baby again, though. Wasn’t he sweet? Such big, dark eyes . . .” She broke off as her gaze fell on something across the room. “Oh, dear.”

Philip frowned. “What’s wrong now?”

“Beldar forgot something.” She ran across the room and snatched up the small covered wicker basket on the floor by the window. “I hope I can catch him before he leaves.” She hurried past him through the archway into the foyer.

“Pandora.” Philip’s voice was ominously quiet. “What is in that basket?”

She looked over her shoulder in surprise. “Beldar forgot his cobra.” Her steps quickened. “I’ll be right back.”

Philip stared after her as she streaked out the front door in pursuit of the snake charmer. “Of course,” he muttered dazedly. “Beldar forgot his cobra.”

He was silent for a long moment, and then he began to chuckle. By the time Pandora returned he was leaning helplessly against the wall as he tried to suppress his laughter. “Did you catch up with him?” he asked, wiping his eyes.

She nodded. “I don’t see what was so funny,” she said crossly. “He was actually very rude to me. You’d think he’d be glad that I took the trouble to bring the cobra back to him. What’s a snake charmer without a cobra?”

“What, indeed? Perhaps I ought to give him another lecture. Do you think that would help?”

“I doubt it. Anyone who would be dumb enough to put a sna—Philip, stop laughing. I went through a great deal of trouble and—”

His hand covered her lips. “And you caused a good deal of trouble today as well.” His blue-green eyes were twinkling. “You’re lucky that I can still laugh about it.”

She kissed his palm affectionately, then took his hand away from her mouth. “I guess it was a little amusing,” she conceded with a reluctant smile. “In retrospect.”

“Definitely in retrospect.” His palm tingled where her lips had rested. “Most of the humor you inspire seems to work that way. First horror and then amusement.”

“You didn’t seem to be any too terrified a few minutes ago. You play Lord-of-All-You-Survey with great dash.”

“I’ve gotten a good deal of practice in the last two weeks.” His lips twisted. “How did you manage to survive the past six years? You appear to live in the eye of a hurricane.”

“I’m usually much busier than this.” She paused deliberately. “Painting my toenails and lolling by the pool makes me restless. Perhaps if you didn’t leave me alone so much I wouldn’t get into so much trouble. You could sort of keep an eye on me.”

“Another setup, Pandora?”

“Not this time. However, I do get bored.” Her eyes were glowing softly. “And lonely. I’ve hardly seen you since the night of the dinner party.”

“I warned you that was the way it was going to be,” he said impassively. “You should have expected it.”

She nibbled at her lower lip. “You also told me that you were going to treat me as a Khadim,” she said clearly. “You haven’t been doing that.” Her laugh was a little strained. “What good is a Khadim if you don’t make love to her?”

“Perhaps I don’t find this particular Khadim desirable,” he said, not looking at her. “Perhaps one night was all I required.”

“That’s a lie,” she said, her eyes flashing. “I know you want me. I can feel it. Why the hell don’t you admit it?”

His gaze met hers. “All right,” he said flatly. “I want you. But there’s no way in hell I’m going to take you. I’m not going to give you that advantage.”

“Advantage? This isn’t a tennis match or some kind of game. This is—” She broke off. She mustn’t fall apart. It was just that time was passing so quickly and she was getting a little panicky. She might discover any day now that she was not, in fact, pregnant. Philip was no closer to accepting her now than when she’d arrived in Sedikhan. And, since the night of the dinner party, he seemed to have erected new and stronger barriers against her. “All right, you don’t trust me. You obviously think I’m going to weave some sort of erotic spell over you once I’ve lured you into my bed.” Her lips were trembling a little as she smiled at him. “I don’t know why you think that, but I’ll accept it. However, is there any reason why we can’t spend just a little time together? We used to get along very well in the old days. I think you even enjoyed my company. If you don’t want me to go with you to the irrigation project, there are still the evenings.” She reached out an impulsive hand and laid it on his arm. “I promise I won’t try to seduce you. No matter how much you deny it, I’m still a part of your life. I have a certain importance to you. If you won’t accept me as a lover, perhaps we could be friends.”

Her expression was so earnest when she told him she wouldn’t try to seduce him, Philip thought ruefully. Didn’t she realize that her hand on his arm was doing just that? Just a touch and his body was hardening, readying itself. “You said I didn’t have women friends,” he reminded her with a faint smile.

“I’d like to be the exception.” Her hand tightened on his forearm. “Dammit, Philip, you know you’re going to want me to stay in your life in some way or other. Why don’t you admit it and behave sensibly? Maybe friendship is the way you can have me and your precious isolation too.” Her voice softened. “And if not, then there’s no harm done, and we’ll still have had a pleasanter time than the last two weeks.”

It was a mistake. Yet he knew he was going to make it. She was right. He was not going to be able to let her go entirely. She was too closely woven into the fabric of his life.

He reached out slowly and covered her hand with his own. “I’ve always known you were an exception to almost every rule,” he said lightly. “Why not this one?”

The tension flowed out of her. “You mean it?” Her dark eyes were suddenly blazing with joy. “Oh, Philip, you won’t be sorry. It will be beautiful, you’ll see. We’ll have such good times and do so many things together. We’ll talk and ride and—”

He threw back his head and laughed. His eyes were warm and dancing as he looked down at her. She didn’t think she’d ever seen them so warm. “So much for staying meekly out of my way until I have time for you in the evenings. I should have known it wouldn’t last long.”

She grinned back at him. Happiness was bubbling through every vein in a golden tide. “I’ll be so good, you won’t know me. I won’t bother you at all and—”

His fingers covered her lips again. “I don’t want a meek little Pandora prowling around, trying not to bother me.” He grimaced. “Which is a good thing, considering that pose wouldn’t last more than a day or two anyway.” His expression was suddenly gentle. “Just be yourself.”

“Okay. But in case you haven’t noticed, I can be a little difficult on occasion.”

“I can tolerate that. As I said, I’ve had a good deal of practice.” His fingers dropped from her lips. “I believe I’m fairly easy to get along with.” He frowned. “That was a most unladylike snort. It’s quite true, you know. I have only one requirement for my friends.”

“Really?” she asked warily. “And what’s that?”

His stance was majestic, but his eyes held an elusive twinkle. “That they absolutely do not bring cobras into my salon.”

Pandora slipped from the back of the chestnut horse and flipped the reins over his head. “Let’s stop here for just a minute,” she said over her shoulder as she ran to the edge of the cliff. She stood there, her eyes eagerly wandering over the scene below. “If you don’t mind, that is,” she added politely.

“Would it make any difference?” Philip drawled as he swung off Oedipus and strolled over to join her at the edge of the precipice. “I’ve seen that look on your face before.”

“Just for a little while.” She dropped down on the ground and crossed her legs tailor fashion. “You’ve seen all this before, but it’s the first time for me.” Her gaze traveled eagerly over the carefully terraced slopes of green and brown that encircled the valley below. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It’s more than that,” Philip said quietly. “It’s productive and life-giving. When the oil is gone it will still be here furnishing grain and a livelihood for thousands of families. It took four long years, but we’ll have a good harvest this fall.” His expression was suddenly alight with eagerness. “Do you realize what a miracle is happening here? One pure, crystal drop of water and the desert blooms.” His voice deepened with intensity. “It blooms, Pandora.”

“I’m glad. You’ve worked very hard for that harvest.” She felt a sudden rush of love for him. He cared so much, worked himself into exhaustion for the people in his province. How could he possibly think he was lacking in the capacity for emotion?

It was only in his personal life that he forbade warmth and caring. For the last two weeks she had been permitted past his defenses, and she had been filled with a delight that was close to euphoria. They had talked and listened to music. Taken long walks on the estate and in the bazaar. Ridden together, eaten together. She had even made the supreme sacrifice and had taken a stab at learning mah-jongg, a game that Philip was practically fanatical about. He had been surprisingly patient and, given a hundred years or so, she might even begin to like the damn game.

But none of it really mattered. All that mattered was the laughter and warmth between them. How wonderful it was to stand on equal footing with him at last. No longer a child or an enemy, but a woman he treated with surprising respect.

“What are you smiling about?” He sat down beside her, drawing up his knees and linking his arms loosely about them. His gaze of mock suspicion was fixed on her face. “I’ve learned through the years to be wary when you’re particularly pleased about something.”

“I was thinking that you’re not nearly the chauvinist you pretend to be,” she said lightly. “And that pleases me very much. I think you have more appreciation for women than you think.”

“I have an appreciation for a certain few of your sex. I wouldn’t want you to think I lack in discrimination. For instance, I find there are several aspects of your character that are admirably masculine.”

“Masculine?” She repeated the word warily.

He nodded. “Determination, a sense of fair play, honesty. Given time, you might develop a good many others.”

“Oh Lord, I spoke too soon.” She covered her eyes with her hand. “Shades of Henry Higgins. But I’m no Eliza Doolittle, thank you. I think I brought myself up very well, and, if any further finishing is necessary, I’ll do it myself too.”

He snapped his fingers. “Independence. I knew I’d left out one of your laudable masculine virtues.”

She shook her head. “Impossible,” she murmured. “Utterly impossible.”

His eyes were innocent as he said with deliberate misunderstanding, “Not impossible. It’s improbable a woman should have such qualities, but not—”

“Philip!” she said warningly, and then threw back her head and laughed helplessly. “I give up. You’ll never change.”

“How perceptive of you to realize that. My ideas and responses have been set far too long to change now. They will bend a little, perhaps, but they won’t snap.”

It was a warning. A flash of pain pierced through the happiness that surrounded her like a glowing cloud. No, she wouldn’t let herself worry about tomorrow. Today was too beautiful to spoil. Philip did care for her. He had enjoyed these last days as much as she had. In the last week he hadn’t even mentioned her leaving. Perhaps he was closer to a breakthrough than he imagined.

“I wouldn’t admit that if I were you. A set mind is a closed mind.” She smiled. “And a closed mind locks out all kinds of intriguing impossibilities that might become possible”—she paused—“someday.”

He shook his head. “Fairy-tale thinking.”

“Maybe.” She suddenly rose to her feet in one lithe motion. “And maybe not.” She strode briskly toward the waiting horses. “I’m hungry, aren’t you? I’m definitely ready for breakfast. I’ll race you back.”

He stood up and followed her at a more leisurely pace. “All this energy.” He shook his head. “Where do you get it?”

She grinned at him as she mounted the chestnut. “I manufacture it at night. The elves have set up a magic spinning wheel in my room, and all night long I spin strands of energy to use the next day.” The smile faded as she met his gaze. “But it happens only after midnight, when the rest of the world is asleep. You’re invited to come in and watch. The elves won’t mind.” Her voice lowered to just above a whisper. “I won’t either.”

She saw his hand tighten on the saddle, and something flared hot and bright in his eyes.

Then his expression was once again veiled. He swung up into the saddle. “I don’t think that would be such a good idea. Magic has a tendency to disappear when disbelievers appear on the scene. You’d better continue your spinning on your own.”

She mustn’t let the rejection hurt so much. She knew he was wary of the effect she had on him physically. He had avoided touching her as if she were a plague victim. She could feel the tension in him whenever he brushed against her accidentally. She had thought, at first, that it was her imagination, that she was seeing her own desire reflected in him. But the signs were there, occurring too often to be mistaken. He wanted her. Why the devil wouldn’t he give in and take her?

“Well, if you insist.” She kicked the chestnut into a trot. “It’s your loss. But you don’t know what you’re missing.”

She was wrong. He knew exactly what he was missing, and that was the problem, he thought grimly. Perhaps this damnable abstinence would have been easier if he didn’t know just how velvety her skin felt to the touch or how wonderfully tight she was around him as he moved . . . He felt the familiar heat begin to build in him and he checked the thought. He was having a difficult enough time resisting the emotional tumult of Pandora’s nearness without risking a sexual maelstrom.

Pandora had reined in several yards away and was looking back over her shoulder in puzzlement. “What’s wrong?” Her face lit with a teasing grin. “Having trouble keeping up, Philip?”

He started to laugh. His eyes were suddenly dancing as he spurred after her down the road. “That’s an entirely subjective matter,” he said solemnly. “There are any number of ways of looking at it.”

She frowned. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Never mind. It’s an in joke.” He chuckled. “Or should I say, it’s an up joke?” He had drawn abreast of her and was passing her in a cloud of dust. “What did you say about a race?”

The telephone call came when they were halfway through breakfast.

Pandora looked at Raoul in surprise. “For me? Who is it?”

“A Mr. Neal Sabine,” Raoul said. “He’s calling from Paris.”

“Paris? What on earth is he doing in Paris?” she wondered aloud as she pushed back her chair. She was aware of Philip’s sudden stiffening across the table from her.

“You’re obviously going to jump up and run to find out,” Philip said caustically. “You could call him back after breakfast.”

“I’d die of curiosity before then. Besides, it might be important.”

“What could be so important?” Philip’s expression was forbidding. “You said you were through with Nemesis.” His lips twisted. “Evidently that didn’t include Sabine.”

Oh heavens, Philip was going to be difficult. Why did this have to happen when everything was going so beautifully? Well, she’d just have to soothe him when she finished talking to Neal. She stood up. “Neal’s my friend. He’s done a good deal for me over the years. I’m never ‘through’ with friends,” she said as she turned away. “I’ll take the call in the library and be right back.”

“Don’t hurry.” Philip took a sip of coffee, his expression hard. “We wouldn’t want you to slight your ‘friend’ in any way.”

She gave a helpless shrug. “I’ll be right back,” she repeated as she strode swiftly out of the breakfast room.

She returned a little over fifteen minutes later. There was a worried frown on her face as she sat down opposite him. She took a sip of coffee. It was cold. She made a face and set the cup down in the saucer and pushed it away.

“Well?” Philip asked with a cool smile. “How is your old friend?”

“Not so good.” She took a deep breath and said in a rush, “I have to fly to Paris today.”

His face showed both shock and pain before he wiped it clean of expression. “Really?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Philip, don’t freeze me out like this,” she said impatiently. “I’ve got to go. Neal, Gene, and Pauly are in Paris trying to put together a European tour. They have a new lead singer.” She smiled fleetingly. “Neal said she has a great voice, but my legs are better.”

“If they have a new singer, why do they need you?” She was going away. She was leaving him just as—He blocked the thought out and ignored the wild explosion of pain that seared through him. He kept his features carefully expressionless as he tried to fortify himself against the corrosive agony he knew so well.

“Dubois, the promoter, is giving them problems. He doesn’t want to invest heavily in an unknown.” Her face was earnest. “It’s important that everything about the tour be first-rate. It can be very traumatic careerwise for a group to lose its lead singer. A triumphant European tour would give them the clout to ask for big bucks when they return to the U.S.” She paused. “Dubois always liked me. He handled our first tour after Nemesis was formed. Neal thinks I can persuade him to take a chance on the new girl too. It’s worth a try.”

“Is it?” He pushed back his chair and stood up. “Then, of course, you must go. I’ll tell Raoul to have the plane readied while you pack.”

She felt a little shiver of panic run through her at the impersonal way he was speaking. “I have to go, Philip. It isn’t as if I want to run off to Paris. I’ll fly in today, see Dubois tonight, and be back tomorrow evening at the latest.”

He shook his head. “No.”

She went still. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t come back. I don’t want you here.” There was suppressed anger beneath the coldness of his words. “I don’t want you in my life. I’ve told you that before.”

Agony ripped through her. “You do want me. I know you do.” Her chin lifted defiantly. “I’ll be back tomorrow night and everything will be the same. You’ll see.”

His lips twisted. “Don’t count on it. You know I seldom keep a woman for more than a month. Be sure to take that pretty trinket I gave you in San Francisco. There won’t be any more forthcoming.”

“You know I don’t want your damn gifts,” she whispered. “Why are you doing this to me?”

A shadow of pain passed over his face. Then it was gone. “Don’t come back,” he said again. “You’ll regret it if you do.”

“I’ll be home tomorrow evening,” she said huskily. “I’m not going to let you do this to us, Philip.”

“This is my home, not yours,” he said as he turned away. “You’re an outsider here. Remember that, Pandora.” He didn’t look at her again as he strode out of the room.

She closed her eyes, trying to fight back the waves of pain. Why? She had expected anger, even jealousy, but not this cold rejection. It was as if she’d touched a trigger that had set off a hidden land mine. She couldn’t believe that the laughing man who had sat beside her on the cliff this morning could have changed in such a short time. No. She wouldn’t accept it. That warm, gentle man was still there beneath the hardness. She just had to find him again.

She opened her eyes and stood up. The sooner she got this Paris business over with, the sooner she could start that search.

Her steps were quick and firm as she hurried from the room to start her packing.