Chapter 3

Even before she was totally awake, Dany was conscious of an odd sense of being bereft. Anthony was gone. There were no arms holding her with that possessiveness she’d become so accustomed to in one short night; there would be no dark head on that pillow next to her own. She knew it with a certainty that was verified as soon as she opened her eyes.

She felt a sudden jab of loneliness that sent panic coursing through her. Would it always be like that now, waking without Anthony? He’d wanted to brand her with his seal of possession, and she had an idea he’d done just that.

There was a note propped against the base of the lamp on the bedside table, and she recognized the bold black script even as she slowly sat up and reached for the sheet of paper.

Dany,

I’ve arranged for Pete Drissell to pick you up at eleven and drive you back to Briarcliff. I’ll see you there tomorrow.

Anthony

Not exactly a tender missive, she thought wryly: terse and to the point. Anthony never wasted words. Why was she disappointed that there was no hint of affection? He’d shown her passion, not affection, last night. She wasn’t even sure he knew what the emotion was.

She threw aside the covers and got out of bed, tossing the note carelessly on the table. She certainly wouldn’t be tucking that into her souvenir box as a loving memento, she thought irritably as she crossed to the bathroom on the far side of the room. Within minutes she was standing beneath the shower, letting the heat and gentle spray soothe the aching tension from her muscles.

It had been a night fraught with desire and the sudden awakening of her own sensuality. Out of that morass of emotions Anthony had woven bonds she might never be able to break. Dany didn’t even know if she wanted to break them. Her mind was whirling with such a jumble of thoughts and confusion, it only increased the sensation of panic.

Anthony wanted her, and what Anthony wanted, Anthony took. She’d seen that as an inevitable course of events through all her years with him. But Anthony hadn’t taken last night. His restraint had been steel-hard even as she’d felt him tremble with desire against her. And that streak of hardness in him was the element that had frightened her the most. She was defenseless against it because she herself would never be able to be hard with Anthony. She would always melt at the first sign of tenderness from him. He’d spoken words of almost obsessive passion, but did Anthony really know how to love? She couldn’t know that because she knew so little of the enigma that was Anthony Malik. It could be very dangerous to release the love she’d stored up for years on the chance he’d respond with equal openness. There was nothing open and free about Anthony, and she might well tear her heart out trying to wrest a response from him that he might never be able to give. No, she must go very slowly and not allow him to arouse her as he’d done last night.

She felt a surge of heat flow through her, and her breasts tautened to sudden ripeness as a memory of last night suddenly came back to her. She’d awakened in the middle of the night to feel Anthony’s hands running up and down her body in gentle exploration before cupping her breasts, squeezing with rhythmic force that had caused a burning sensation to tingle between her thighs and made her breath leave her lungs. She could feel his chest move against her back with the force of his labored breathing.

“Anthony?” His name was a mere whisper. She could hardly force a sound past the tightness of her throat.

“Lord, I’m sorry, sweetheart.” His voice was low and strained, and she could feel the heat of him like a burning brand against her skin. “I didn’t mean to wake you. So much for my strength of will.” His lips were buried in her hair. “You’re so soft. I had to have my hands on you.”

“It’s all right,” she said faintly, unconsciously pressing back against him in an undulating movement. Why was he apologizing? she wondered dazedly. Didn’t he know he was only giving her what she wanted? What she’d always wanted from him? “I like it.” She’d always found it difficult talking to Anthony, but in this heated darkness it was easy to confess even the most intimate secrets. “I want you to touch me.” Her breath was coming in little gasps.

“I know you do.” There was a touch of grimness in his voice. “And if I weren’t such a bastard, I’d have let you sleep through the night and not brought you down to share the same hell I’m in.”

“Haven’t you slept at all?”

His chuckle had a thread of pain in it. “Not very likely when I’m being burned alive.” His hands closed around her breasts with a sudden force. “And now you’re hurting too. I could feel the aching in you before you fell asleep. I didn’t mean to do that to you. Believe me, Dany.”

“I believe you,” she said. There was a note of desperate sincerity in his voice that made it impossible to do anything else. “It doesn’t matter, just make love to me. That will make everything all right.”

“You’re wrong. That would screw everything up royally,” he said bitterly. “Do you think I wouldn’t be inside you right now if I wasn’t sure of that?” He exhaled in a sigh that was more of a shudder. “But none of this is your fault. You shouldn’t be the one to pay.” His fingers were plucking teasingly at her nipples, causing rivers of fire to run to the center of her womanhood. “You won’t be the one to pay.” His cheek pushed aside the weight of her hair, his tongue outlining the curve of her inner ear. “You’re so sweet. I love the taste of you.” His hands, with a touch as exquisitely sensitive as sunlight on rose petals, moved from her breast to her waist and then slid down over the firmness of her belly to the soft down that guarded her womanhood. “The feel of you. You’re going to like this, Dany. Just relax and let me help you.” Then his hands were moving deftly between her thighs with an expertise that made her arch back against him as a shaft of electrifying pleasure shot through her.

“Anthony!”

“I said you’d like it.” His tongue plunged suddenly deep into her ear and the combination of erotic fingers and warm tongue was like an upsurge of white-hot flame. His voice was a harsh rasp. “Do you know how much it excites me to know I can give you pleasure?”

Then he was touching her in a new and different way with the pad of his thumb, and a low cry broke from her. “Anthony, I can’t stand it. It’s breaking me apart.”

“Shhh, it’s all right.” His strong teeth were nibbling at the lobe of her ear with a pressure sharp enough to be on the borderline of pain, but it only added to the erotic arousal. “Just let go. I’m right here holding you.” His caresses suddenly accelerated with a force and skill that caused a small moan to break from her. “Just let go, love.”

The release of tension came with a brilliant burst of sensation that was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Even when the spasms that rocked her to her foundations subsided, she still found herself shaking and breathless. She drew a deep breath and was startled to hear it turn into a sob. There were tears flowing down her cheeks, and she couldn’t seem to stop them.

She heard Anthony’s low exclamation, and then he was turning her to face him, her face buried in the rough triangle of hair on his chest. His lips were pressed to the top of her head and he was holding her with a cautious gentleness as if she were infinitely precious. “Don’t cry,” he said thickly. “Please don’t cry. Now I’m the one who’s breaking apart. I didn’t hurt you, did I? I tried to be careful. I only wanted to help you, love.”

“You did,” she half-sobbed, half-laughed. “Oh, you did. I don’t know why I can’t stop the waterworks. It’s all so stupid.”

“No, it’s not.” There was a trace of relief in his voice. “It’s my fault, I suppose. I’ve thrown everything at you all at once. You’d have to be some kind of superwoman not to experience a pretty traumatic reaction.” He gave her a swift hug. “I’m just grateful I didn’t hurt you. Hell, I don’t know anything about virgins.”

She stiffened as she felt a swift pang. No, he wouldn’t be expected to be familiar with the idiotic reactions of the inexperienced, she told herself. His chosen mistresses were always knowledgeable and sophisticated in the extreme. Like Luisa. “No, you didn’t hurt me,” she said quietly. “You were very gentle.”

“I tried to be.” His lips brushed her head again. “It wasn’t easy when all I wanted to do was to come to you and love you. Can you sleep now?”

“I think so.” But he wouldn’t be able to rest. She could tell by the tense readiness of his body he still felt the aching frustration from which he’d just relieved her. Oh, Lord, why wouldn’t he let her help him? Why wouldn’t he take from her? Why did he always have to be so damn strong? She nestled her cheek closer, breathing in the lovely clean smell of him. It wasn’t any use fighting him. Anthony always did exactly as he thought best. Perhaps someday she’d be able to convince him the aching incompleteness she felt at his refusal to let her share was even worse than the physical incompleteness she’d known before. “Good night, Anthony.”

Dany reached out and turned off the faucets with a decisive motion. All this reminiscing wasn’t accomplishing anything. It was only reinforcing the wisdom of going very cautiously where Anthony was concerned. Good heavens, he’d actually had her pleading with him to make love to her last night! Surely that fact alone proved how dangerous a relationship with him would be. He’d dominated her practically all her life, but she wouldn’t be able to tolerate that threat to her independence now.

She stepped from the shower stall, plucked a soft terry bath towel from the heated rack, and began to dry herself briskly. No, she’d changed from that hero-worshipping child, and Anthony had to come to terms with it. He had a right to mastermind her career, but her personal life was something else again. How many times over the years had she heard herself described as Galatea to Anthony’s Pygmalion and only laughed at the comparison? Now it didn’t seem quite so funny when she recalled how pliant she’d been to his every wish since he’d practically kidnapped her from under Jack’s very eyes.

Jack. She’d promised to get in touch with him before Anthony had snatched her away so precipitously. Dany wrapped the towel around her and strode with determined swiftness back into the bedroom to attempt to locate the clothing that Anthony had removed so deftly last night.

She’d follow Anthony’s orders and return to Briarcliff this afternoon. She had a training regimen to follow, and every minute counted now that Calgary loomed so near. But she’d be damned if she’d be hustled off meekly without giving Jack an explanation for Anthony’s rudeness last night. She’d have Pete stop at Jack’s apartment before they left the city, and to hell with whether Anthony liked it or not. She wasn’t about to let him have his own way about everything. Not any longer.

“You didn’t blur that last spin,” Beau commented mildly as she skated up to the wrought-iron bench on the bank of the pond where he was lolling with deceptive laziness. “The triple looked good, but as I said …”

“… the spin didn’t blur,” she finished for him as she sat down beside him. She flinched as the iciness of the bench pierced the thinness of her tights. She shouldn’t have worn this short skating skirt when she’d known she’d be outdoors, she thought absently as she bent over to unlace her skates. It was fine when she was skating, but it wasn’t the most practical outfit when they had a ten-minute walk back to the house from the pond. “I knew it didn’t. That snow last night made the ice rough.” She glanced up with a grin. “And that’s not just an excuse. It really would have had enough speed if the ice had been right.”

“I wasn’t arguing.” Beau picked up her heavy cream-colored wool jacket from the bench and draped it over her shoulders. “I’m just wondering what we’re doing out here freezing our butts off and having to put up with poor ice when we could be working in that deluxe indoor rink Anthony had built for you out back of ye old family mansion?” His lips twisted in a grin. “As I recall, it even comes complete with a Zamboni to smooth away that rough ice you’ve been complaining about.”

She avoided those keen hazel eyes as she slipped off her left skate and started unlacing the right. “I felt like working outside today. It was nice having the wind and sun on my face after skating inside for the last few months.” She took the other skate off. “Besides, sometimes it’s good to have the ice a little rough. It gives you something to fight and overcome.”

“And ice is a hell of a lot easier to fight than Anthony, isn’t it, Dany?” Beau’s voice was as soft as his eyes were sharp. “Did he give you a hard time yesterday? Is that why you ran away?”

“I didn’t run away,” she denied quickly with a forced laugh. “Despite what you think, I’m not a child who’s afraid to face some make-believe bogeyman. I just had an impulse to see the bright lights and yielded to temptation. Don’t you ever do that, Beau?”

“Yield to temptation?” He grinned. “All the time, sugar. The devil only has to blow in my ear and I’ll follow him anywhere.” The smile faded. “That’s why I’m a world-class expert on the subject and know when amateurs like you are putting me on. You’re too damn self-disciplined to take off like that unless you were pretty upset.” He picked up her skates and wiped them carefully with the soft cloth she always carried for that purpose before tucking them in her leather satchel. “And as Anthony disappeared right after you did, I gather he was in pursuit of our Little Nell in high dudgeon.” His face was grave. “Throw in the fact that you’re as edgy as a cat on a hot tin roof and fighting the ice as if it were your worst enemy, and it adds up to big trouble. I think we’d better talk about it, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t,” she said firmly as she thrust her feet into her short suede boots and stood up. “You’re my coach, not my sports psychologist. Anthony didn’t think I needed one of those, remember?”

“That’s not saying he’s right.” Beau got up leisurely, taking her elbow in one hand and her satchel in the other as they started off over the hard-packed snow along the winding path. The Tudor house was glowing like an Elizabethan jewel in the fast-falling dusk. “There’s something to be said for relieving tension and clearing the way for concentration by using a Freudian father confessor.” His eyes were suddenly thoughtful. “I think Anthony would have bought you one of those, too, if he hadn’t thought you’d resent that kind of crutch as much as he would. He never could stand the idea of leaning on anyone’s strength but his own.”

“Why, Beau?” She tried to cover the sudden intensity of her tone with a laugh that was not as light as she would have wished. “Why does he have to be the Rock of Gibraltar and the great god Zeus rolled into one? It’d be a great deal easier for the rest of us poor mortals if occasionally he’d come down from Mount Olympus.”

“Did you ever consider it would be a lot more comfortable for him too?” Beau asked quietly. “Perhaps he’d like to come down from the mountain but he doesn’t know the path anymore. Mount Olympus must be a hell of a lonely place these days. All the ancient gods and goddesses are gone from the temple.”

“That won’t wash, Beau,” she said. “Nothing ever stops Anthony from doing something he wants to do.”

Beau shrugged. “How do you know that? Anthony’s a pretty difficult man to read. I still haven’t peeled off more than the top layer, and I’ve known him since I was a kid of eighteen.”

“That long?” Her gaze flew to his face in surprise. “I never realized you’d been friends that long. I know you were in that ice revue together before Anthony took over Dynathe.” She calculated swiftly. “That’s right, I’d forgotten you’d competed in the Olympics together. You won the bronze that year.”

“And Anthony won the gold.” He made a face. “Not that anyone expected anything else. He was the undisputed favorite before he even skated out on the ice for the compulsories. Still, it hurt like hell at the time. I had my own dreams of glory.” His lips twisted wryly. “I’m probably damn lucky I didn’t win the gold. I wasn’t the type of man then who could handle the high life with any degree of success. I’d probably have ended up on skid row with a bottle of wood alcohol to keep me warm.”

Dany’s eyes widened. “I don’t understand. Skid row?”

“You didn’t notice my passionate attachment for ginger ale?” Beau lifted a mocking brow. “I’m an alcoholic, Dany.”

“I didn’t know,” she murmured, shocked. It seemed impossible that she’d been so self-centered as not to have been aware of such a thing in as close a friend as Beau.

“It’s not exactly a weakness you talk about in public,” he said. “There are still too many people who don’t recognize it as a physical illness.” His lips tightened grimly. “I didn’t myself until Anthony took me by the scruff of the neck and rubbed my nose in it. Until then I had an image of myself as a decadent southern gentleman with a fatal but romantic flaw. That was much easier to accept for a man of my temperament than being ‘sick.’ Fortunately Anthony has a way of cutting like a knife through our little self-delusions. Probably because he has none himself.”

“Anthony knew you were an alcoholic when he hired you as my coach?”

Beau shook his head. “I was on the wagon by that time. It’s not likely he’d have risked me associating so closely with his pride and joy if he hadn’t been sure I would stay that way. He took me in hand before he left the ice show. He made me face the problem and put me in a clinic to dry out. Then he whisked me out of temptation’s way and into the straight and narrow when he decided to turn over your coaching to someone else.”

“He did all that for you?” She shook her head in dazed disbelief. “You must have been very good friends.”

“As close as Anthony would allow.” An ironic smile tugged at his lips. “I’m sure you’re aware that restriction wouldn’t exactly make us bosom buddies. Actually, after we both signed with the ice show, we had very little contact. My crowd was a little too wild for his taste. He preferred more sophisticated playmates. No one was more surprised than I that he came galloping to the rescue when I was gliding down the path to ruin. The only reason I can come up with was that I’d been fairly decent to him when we were both going for the gold. The other competitors were ready to cut him to little ribbons—even those on his own team.”

“So much for the spirit of the Olympics.”

“You couldn’t really blame them,” Beau said. “They’d worked all their lives for a chance at the big time. The difference between winning the gold and taking the silver is a three-million-dollar-a-year contract versus being just another hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar-a-year featured skater with an ice show. Maybe I’d have felt the same if I hadn’t always had more money than was good for me anyway. Even so, I was feeling pretty raw myself when he showed up at practice and took over the rink as if he owned it.” He shrugged. “Hell, he did own it. As soon as I saw him work out, I knew I didn’t stand a chance.”

“That must have been terribly disappointing for you.” Dany’s voice was soft with sympathy. “I’m not sure how I’d have reacted under the same circumstances. Anthony had cause to be grateful to you, Beau.”

He shook his head. “I just behaved the way any other true southern gentleman would have,” he drawled, his eyes more golden then as they twinkled. “We’ve had practice at being defeated by you arrogant Yankees. Perhaps I didn’t want the gold as much as the others did. It wasn’t worth trying to psych out another competitor, at least. But of course, it wouldn’t have been possible with Anthony. He wasn’t about to let anyone close enough to endanger his concentration. But they tried. He was the number-one target.”

“Naturally.” Her face was troubled as she remembered some of the cattiness and venom she’d had to face herself since she’d reached the top rungs of competition. She’d been protected from a great deal of it by the wall of money and care Anthony had fashioned around her, but it hadn’t been enough to filter out all of the jealousy. That went with the territory in any competitive sport. The pressure on Anthony must have been excruciating without anyone to run interference. “He was so terribly alone.”

“Not entirely. He had old Samuel Dynathe in his corner, remember.” Beau made a face. “I can’t say that’s the kind of support I would have chosen. A patron like Dynathe only tolerates winners. The pressure from him must have been even worse than from the other competitors.”

“He must have cared something for Anthony,” Dany argued. She didn’t want to think of Anthony as that vulnerable and alone. Vulnerable? Good heavens, what was she thinking of? Anthony could never be vulnerable. “He left him his entire estate when he died, including the entire Dynathe conglomerate.”

“He liked winners,” Beau repeated. “I don’t think he was a man who cared for anyone in the whole damn world. That company was his blood and guts, and he wanted someone at the helm who’d keep it at the top of the heap. He knew Anthony would do that.”

“Yes, there’d be no question that he would assure that,” Dany said with a bittersweet smile. “Anthony’s definitely a winner. The rest of us are left standing at the post.”

“I haven’t seen any signs of his trying to smother your initiative,” Beau said dryly. “Quite the contrary. And having the Rock of Gibraltar to lean upon can be very comforting on occasion. You’re being pretty rough on him, aren’t you, Dany?”

“I have to be.” She bit her lip. “I guess it’s a defense mechanism. You weren’t far off when you said I was afraid of him. I’ve always felt that if I let down my guard even for a moment, all his determination and forcefulness would just sweep me away … that there wouldn’t be a particle of my own personality left.” Her hand made a little gesture of helplessness and frustration. “Oh, damn, I know that sounds crazy as the devil.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Beau’s eyes were fixed thoughtfully on her face. “I can see how being Anthony’s primary focus all these years would make you a little wary. But you don’t really have to worry about that, you know. You can be quite a little dynamo yourself. I don’t know which one of you I’d back if it came to a showdown.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” She wrinkled her nose at him affectionately. “I wish I could be as sure of my strength as you and Anthony seem to be. He’s always telling me how strong and independent I am too. It seems to be some sort of magic incantation around here.”

They had arrived at the house now and were climbing the steps to the front door. “That should make you feel more secure if anything would. Do you think that if he values those qualities in you so highly, he’d ever try to crush them?”

“I don’t know. How can anyone tell what Anthony will do?” she asked wearily. She couldn’t tell him it wasn’t his forcefulness she feared so much as her own loving desire that had flared so quickly last night. “That’s the whole point. Even after all these years Anthony is still almost a stranger to me. How can you trust a stranger?”

“Think about it,” Beau argued softly. “Has he ever done anything to cause you to distrust him? He’s scrupulously honest both in business and personal dealings. He’s certainly been fantastically generous to you.” He opened the door to allow her to precede him. “And to me. Do you know he’s never allowed me even to thank him for putting my life back on the right track? No emotional blackmail and no suspicions. He ignores that part of my life as if it didn’t exist.” He shook his head. “And because it doesn’t exist for him anymore, it doesn’t exist for me either. That’s a pretty generous gift for anyone to give. It was a fairly ugly time for both of us. Curing an alcoholic is hell on wheels for everyone around him.”

Dany blinked rapidly to hold back the tears. “But in this case very worthwhile,” she said, lightness masking the huskiness of her voice. “You’re an extremely special person, Beau Lantry.”

For a moment Beau’s mocking panache was banished by unusual awkwardness. “Hey!” he said gruffly. “If you think you’re going to embarrass me by crying all over me, you can forget it. Look, it’s all in the past. I’ve got my problem licked now. The only reason I even brought it up was I thought it might help you to understand Anthony a little better.” He gave an affectionate tug on her ponytail. “You’re a sweet, loving lady with everyone but him. Why don’t you give him a chance to enter the magic circle? He may need it even more than the rest of us.”

Her eyes darkened with pain. “You’re wrong, Beau. Anthony doesn’t need anyone. He told me so.” Her lips trembled as she tried to smile. “And that makes him very dangerous to someone like me. I think I’d be safer to keep my defenses very high and firm.”

There was a sudden flicker of surprise and then a dawning comprehension in the warm hazel eyes gazing into her own. His lips pursed in a soundless whistle. “Like that, Dany?”

She nodded. “Like that,” she said simply. “I’ll work myself into the ground to give him the gold. It’s really his, no matter what he says. But after that I’m going to put all the distance I can between us. He may have been a good friend to you, but with very little effort he could probably tear my life to shreds. I’m not about to give him the opportunity if I can help it.” She shrugged off her jacket and took her skate bag from him. Her lashes lowered as her tone became brisk. “So I’ll maintain my safe and sheltered role as Anthony’s protégée and leave his personal life to the Luisas of the world.” Lord, it was sheer torture to get those words out, she thought.

“Maybe that would be best,” Beau said after a troubled pause. “Friendship I think you can handle, but I’m not sure you wouldn’t be right about anything more … intimate. He’s not an easy man.”

“That’s putting it conservatively,” she said with a wry smile. “Don’t worry, Beau, I—”

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Miss Alexander.” The butler’s voice was punctiliously polite as he appeared at her side. “Mr. Malik has called twice since you’ve been down at the pond practicing. He was quite surprised you weren’t at the rink and couldn’t be reached by phone. He asked you to call him at his apartment in New York immediately on your return. The number is on the pad on his desk in the library.”

She felt a queer little flutter in the pit of her stomach that was half excitement, half trepidation. “Thank you,” she said absently, handing him her skate bag and jacket. “Will you have these taken to my room? I’ll make the call right away.”

“Certainly.” He turned and started to mount the stairs with august dignity.

“Why don’t you go lie down and rest for a while?” Beau asked gently. “You can always make the call later. If you like, I’ll give him a ring and tell him you’ll phone after dinner tonight.”

She shook her head. “We both know when Anthony asks someone to call, it’s tantamount to a royal decree.” She was already striding briskly down the hall toward the library, but she looked over her shoulder to give him a reassuring smile. “Thanks for trying to run interference, Beau, but I’ll be fine. I’m a dynamo, remember?”

“How could I forget?” he asked with a graceful mocking bow. “You remind me a bit of Scarlett O’Hara without her more unpleasant qualities. You were never meant to be a Yankee, Dany. It’s some ghastly celestial mistake.”

“If you say so,” she said absently, her thoughts already on the phone call to be made in the next few moments. “I’ll see you at dinner, Beau.”

As she was listening to the phone ring a little bit later, she didn’t feel like anything even remotely resembling a dynamo. She felt miserably unsure, and a barrage of memories of last night’s intimacies assaulted her with a force that caused her uneasiness to escalate more by the second. How stupid to be so vulnerable, she thought with an impatience that sent a sudden tingle of defiance surging through her. It came just in time, for the next moment Anthony picked up the receiver with a terse “Malik.”

“Anthony?” Her voice was amazingly cool, she congratulated herself. “Dany. I understand you’ve been trying to get in touch with me.”

“What the hell were you doing at the pond?” His voice was roughly impatient. “That snow last night would have made it totally unfit for any serious practice.”

“It wasn’t all that bad,” she said evasively. “I’ll work out on the rink tomorrow. Beau said the triples went fairly well.”

“And the spins?”

She wasn’t about to confess they lacked the needed speed. “Why don’t you ask him?” she asked with dulcet sweetness. “Would you like me to put him on?”

“No.” His reply was terse. “I’ll see them myself tomorrow. Work on your compulsory figures in the morning. I want to go over your long freestyle program with you in the afternoon.”

“Yes, master,” she said meekly. “It shall be as you decree. And now, if that’s all you wanted, I’d like to change for dinner.”

“That’s not all.” There was a long pause. “Paul Jens said you didn’t arrive at Briarcliff until nearly three thirty. Pete picked you up at eleven. Where were you all that time?”

Her hand tightened on the receiver. “I stopped in at Jack Kowalt’s apartment and had lunch with him.” She could sense the crackling tension on the other end of the line but managed to keep her tone calmly confident. “You’ll be glad to know that Jack accepted both of our apologies. He’s a very understanding man.”

“And how understanding was he?” Anthony’s voice was silky. “You were there long enough for him to demonstrate in detail just how understanding he could be.” His tone dropped to menacing softness. “Perhaps I should have been there when you awoke this morning. Were you wanting a man so badly that you had to run to Kowalt to assuage it?”

“No!” She took a deep breath and tried to regain her composure. “I told you it wasn’t like that with us. But even if it were, I wouldn’t let you interfere. I’ll see Jack whenever I like. I won’t have my life choreographed by you.”

There was a long silence. “And what about last night?”

She moistened her lips nervously. “Last night was a mistake,” she said quickly. She let her breath out shakily. “It wouldn’t work out between us, Anthony. I don’t want to become an appendage to any man. And with you that’s what it would come down to in the end. You’re that kind of person.”

“Am I?” Anthony’s tone was expressionless. “I thought you might have some sort of backlash reaction from last night. I didn’t think it would be this radical, however. Not enough to drive you back to Kowalt.”

“It’s not a backlash,” she denied firmly. “I’m just thinking clearly now. You’re a very desirable and experienced man, Anthony. And it was perfectly natural that our good judgment was destroyed by a chemistry as potent as ours. But you can see it’s better that we continue as we have been all these years.”

“The hell I can!” The violence in his tone was so raw, it shocked her. “You may think you’re going to be able to turn your back on last night and walk away, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let you.” There was a moment’s silence in which he was obviously struggling for control. “If I hadn’t been so blasted noble, you wouldn’t be giving me this damn lecture on the wisdom of maintaining your independence. You’d be here with me now, with your legs wrapped around me while I—”

“Anthony!” She felt a melting heat in her loins, and her exclamation sounded faint and breathless even to her own ears.

“You would; you know it as well as I do.” His voice was suddenly unutterably weary. “I won’t be such a fool again. Enough is enough. From now on our relationship comes first and to hell with Calgary. I wasn’t comfortable in the role of a self-sacrificing Galahad anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow, Dany.”

Before she could reply, he’d hung up the receiver.