Knowing that it was happening was one thing; preparing herself for it was another. Every time she glanced up and caught Blake watching her broodingly she had to turn away to hide the pain that twisted inside her. She knew that he was regretting his marriage proposal, but his pride wouldn’t allow him to back out of it. Probably he would never ask to be released from the engagement; she would have to do the severing. She sensed that he still wasn’t ready to admit that he’d been wrong, so she didn’t try to take any action to break their engagement now. When the time came she would know, and she would free him.

New Year’s passed, and, as he had planned, he began working full time. She could tell that he was always eager to leave the house, and he began to bring home a briefcase crammed with papers. Dione wondered if he brought work home so he would have an excuse to shut himself in the study and escape her company; then he mentioned that Richard had taken his suggestion and indulged in a month of vacation, and she felt guilty. He really was buried in paperwork without Richard to take part of the load off him.

One night he came to bed after midnight and groaned wearily as his body relaxed. Dione turned over and touched his cheek, trailing her fingers over his skin and feeling the prickle of his beard. “Do you need a massage to relax?” she asked quietly.

“Would you mind?” he sighed. “My neck and shoulders have a permanent kink in them from leaning over a desk. My God, no wonder Richard and Serena are having problems; he’s had two years of this, and that’s enough to drive any man crazy.”

He rolled over on his stomach, and Dione pulled her nightgown up to her thighs, straddling his back and leaning forward to work her magic on his tight muscles. As her kneading fingers dug into his flesh he made a muffled sound of pain, then sighed blissfully as the tension left him.

“Have you seen Serena lately?” he asked.

Her fingers paused for a moment, then resumed their movement. “No,” she replied. “She hasn’t even called. Have you talked to her?”

“Not since the night she had dinner here and told us she and Richard had separated. I think I’ll call her tomorrow. Ahhh, that feels good. Right there. I feel as if I’ve been beaten.”

She rolled her knuckles up and down his spine, paying particular attention to the spot that he had indicated needed extra work. He made little grunting noises every time she touched a tender area, and she began to laugh. “You sound like a pig,” she teased.

“Who cares? I’m enjoying this. I’ve missed the massages; several times I’ve started to call you and ask you to come to the plant to give me a rubdown, but it didn’t seem like such a smart thing to do in a busy day.”

“Why not?” she asked tartly, a little irritated that he considered her to be a traveling massage parlor, and a lot irritated that he hadn’t followed through on his idea.

He laughed and rolled over, deftly keeping his body between her thighs. “Because,” he murmured, “this is what usually happens to me during one of your massages. Let me tell you, I had a hell of a time keeping you from realizing what was going on when you thought I was impotent and were so sweetly trying to turn me on to prove that I wasn’t.”

She moved off him like a rocket, her entire body blushing. “What?” she yelled furiously. “You knew what I was doing, and you let me go ahead and make a fool of myself?”

He laughed uproariously, reaching out to pull her into his embrace. “It didn’t take me long to figure it out,” he admitted, still chuckling. “As if you needed sexy clothes to turn me on…but I couldn’t let you know what you were doing to me without frightening you away. Honey, you weren’t seducing me; I was seducing you, but I had to let you think it was the other way around.”

She burned with embarrassment, thinking of the things she had done, the revealing clothes she had worn. Then she felt his hand on her breast, and the heat intensified, but no longer from shame. He hadn’t made love to her for several days; he had been coming to bed late and falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, and she had missed his touch.

“You don’t really mind, do you?” he asked softly, pulling the nightgown over her head. “What are you doing with this thing on?”

“I get cold when you aren’t in the bed,” she explained, stretching her body in his arms, reveling in the rasp of his hair-roughed skin against hers.

With a growl he rolled her to her back and buried his face between her breasts. “I’m here now, so you don’t need it,” he said, his voice muffled by her flesh. He took her quickly, impatient after the days of abstinence. She held him even after he was asleep, her doubts momentarily eased by the passion of his lovemaking.

Serena called the next morning. “I’ve just talked to Blake,” she said, laughing a little. “He practically ordered me to take you out to lunch. He said that you’re going a little stir crazy with him so tied up at work. Does he really think I believe that?”

Dione laughed. “He thinks you’re sitting there alone, brooding, and he wants you to get out of the house for a while. Shall we make him happy and go out to lunch?”

“Why not? I’ll pick you up at twelve.”

“I’m not brooding,” Serena said firmly a few hours later as she bit into a crisp radish. “Richard wanted some time to himself, and I gave it to him. We didn’t have an argument or anything like that. He’s in Aspen. He loves to ski, and I’ve never learned how; he hasn’t been since we were married, because he wouldn’t do anything that I couldn’t enjoy. I’m not athletic,” she explained, grinning.

“You’re not upset at all?”

“Of course I’m upset, but I’m borrowing a page from your book and keeping it all under control.” She shrugged lightly. “We had a long conversation before he left, got everything out in the open. That’s a first for Richard. He’s so good at keeping his thoughts to himself that sometimes I want to scream. We decided that he’s been under so much stress that the best thing to do was to get away from each other, let him relax and catch up on his sleep, before we did any more talking.”

“Have you talked to him since he left?”

“No. That was part of the bargain. When he comes back we’ll settle things once and for all.”

Serena had changed a lot in the months since they had met, becoming a self-assured woman. Things might not work out for her, but she was facing the future with her chin up; Dione only hoped that she could do the same. While Blake was making love to her, she could forget that he was growing away from her, but they couldn’t spend the rest of their lives in bed. The ruby heart rested warmly in the valley between her breasts; he had said that it was his heart, and she wouldn’t be selfish. She would give his heart back to him.

“I know what we can do,” Serena said firmly. “Let’s go shopping! We can look for your wedding dress.”

Shopping was Serena’s cure-all, and Dione went along with it, though she couldn’t work up any enthusiasm for any of the dresses that they looked at. How could she be concerned with a dress for a wedding that would never take place?

Blake was so tired when he came home that night that his limp was more pronounced, but he cross-examined her over dinner, asking for a word-for-word repetition of everything Serena had said, how she had looked, if she had seemed worried. Dione tried to reassure him, but she could tell that he was anxious about his sister.

The passion of the night before wasn’t repeated; when he finally came to bed he threw his arm over her and went to sleep before his mumbled “good night” was out of his mouth. She listened to his steady breathing for a long time, unwilling to sleep and miss a moment of her time with him.

With calm resignation she made plans the next day for her future; she contacted Dr. Norwood and accepted a case, then booked a flight to Milwaukee. Her next patient was still hospitalized, but in three weeks he would be able to begin therapy, so that gave her three weeks to spend with Blake.

Every day he became more distant from her, more involved in his work, needing less from her. In her weak moments she tried to tell herself that it was just because he had so much work to do, but she couldn’t believe that for long. She responded by doing as she had always done, shoving her pain and misery into a dark corner of her mind and building a wall around them. If it killed her, she would still leave him with her shoulders straight and not distress him by crying all over him. He wouldn’t like that, and she wasn’t the weepy type, anyway. She wouldn’t just hit him with it; she would tell him that she was having doubts about their marriage, and that she thought it would be a good idea for them to spend some time apart. She would tell him that she’d taken another case, and that when it was finished they would discuss their situation. His conscience wouldn’t bother him if she did it that way; he would be relieved that it was her idea.

She learned that Richard was back in town when he called her and asked if he could talk to her privately. She hesitated, and he said wryly, “Serena knows that I’m here. She suggested that I talk to you.”

Why would Serena want Richard to talk to Dione? What could she possibly tell him that Serena couldn’t say just as well? But a third party could sometimes see more clearly than the ones involved, so she agreed.

He drove over early that afternoon. He looked younger than he had, tanned from his weeks in Aspen in the winter sun, and far more relaxed. The lines of strain that had been in his face were gone, replaced by a smile.

“You’re even more beautiful than before,” he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. She didn’t shy away from him now; Blake had taught her that not all men were to be feared. She smiled up at him.

“You’re pretty great looking yourself. I gather you’ve seen Serena?”

“We had dinner together last night. She sent me to you.”

“But why?” Dione asked, bewildered. They walked out to the courtyard and sat down in the sun. With the walls of the house keeping any wind away from them, the cool January day was pleasant, and she didn’t even need a sweater.

Richard leaned against the concrete back of the bench, crossing his ankle over his knee. She noticed idly that he was wearing jeans, the only time she’d ever seen him dressed so casually, and a blue pullover sweater that made his gray eyes seem blue. “Because she’s a smart woman,” he mused. “She’s known from the beginning that I was attracted to you, and our marriage can’t work if you’re between us.”

Dione’s eyes widened. “What?” she asked weakly. “But…but Serena’s been so friendly, so open….”

“As I said, she’s a smart woman. She knew that you didn’t return my interest. You’ve never been able to see anyone but Blake. How I feel about you is something that I have to work out.”

She shook her head. “This is ridiculous. You don’t love me; you never have. You’re in love with Serena.”

“I know,” he admitted, and laughed. “But for a while I was pretty confused. Serena didn’t seem to care if I was around or not, and there you were, so damned lovely that it hurt to look at you, so strong and sure of yourself. You knew what you wanted and didn’t let anything stand in your way. The contrast was striking.”

Was that how he had seen her? As strong and confident? Hadn’t he realized that she was that way only in her profession, that privately she was crippled, afraid of letting anyone get close to her? It was strange that, as astute as Richard was, he hadn’t seen her as she really was.

“And now?” she asked.

“I’ll always admire you,” he chuckled. “But this visit is just for Serena’s peace of mind. You were right all along; I love her, and I’ve been punishing her because she relied on Blake instead of me. I freely admit to the illogic of it, but people in love aren’t logical.”

“She wanted you to be certain before you went back to her.”

“That’s right. And I am certain. I love skiing, but I spent the entire time I was in Aspen wishing that she was with me. You should hang out a shingle as a doctor in psychology,” he said, laughing, and put his arm on her shoulder to hug her.

She walked him to the door and sent him on his way, glad that he’d ironed out his problems, but she was also depressed at the thought that she’d been involved in any way at all, however innocently. She walked back out to the courtyard and resumed her seat. She was tired, so tired of these months of emotional strain. She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the winter sun, letting her thoughts drift.

“How long had he been here?”

The harsh voice sliced through the air and she jumped, getting to her feet and whirling to face Blake. “You’re early,” she stammered.

“I know,” he said, his voice as hard and cold as his face. “I haven’t been able to spend much time with you lately, and when I managed to get everything cleared for today I decided to surprise you. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” he finished with a sneer.

A sick feeling in her stomach made her swallow before she answered. “You didn’t,” she said briefly, lifting her chin. Suddenly she knew that this was it, that he would use this as an excuse to break their engagement, and she couldn’t bear to listen to him saying things that would break her heart. It would break anyway when she left, but she didn’t want to have the memory of hard words between them.

“He hadn’t been here over five minutes,” she said remotely, lifting her hand to cut him off when he started to speak. “He and Serena have patched up their differences, and he wanted to talk to me. She sent him over, as a matter of fact, but you’re welcome to call her if you don’t believe me.”

His eyes sharpened, and he took a step toward her, his hand reaching out. Dione backed away. It had to be now, before he touched her. He might not love her, but she knew that he desired her, and with them, touching led inevitably to sex. That was another thing she couldn’t bear, making love with him and knowing it was the last time.

“Now is as good a time as any to tell you,” she said, still in that remote voice, her face an expressionless mask. “I’ve accepted another case, and I’ll be leaving in a few days. At least, those were my original plans, but now I think it would be best if I left tomorrow, don’t you?”

His skin tightened over his cheekbones. “What are you saying?” he demanded fiercely.

“That I’m breaking our engagement,” she said, fumbling with the delicate clasp at the back of her neck and finally releasing it. She took the ruby heart and held it out to him.

He didn’t take it. He was staring at her, his face white. “Why?” he asked, grinding the word out through lips that barely moved.

She sighed wearily, rubbing her forehead. “Haven’t you realized by now that you don’t love me?”

“If you think that, why did you set a wedding date?” he rasped.

She gave him a thin smile. “You were making love to me,” she said gently. “I wasn’t in my right mind. I’ve known all along that you didn’t love me,” she burst out, desperate to make him understand. She couldn’t hold out much longer. “I humored you, but it’s time now for it to end. You’ve changed these past weeks, needing me less and less.”

“Humored me!” he shouted, clenching his fists. “Were you also ‘humoring me’ when we made love? I’ll be damned if you were!”

She winced. “No. That was real…and it was a mistake. I’ve never been involved with a patient before, and I’ll never let it happen again. It gets too…complicated.”

“Lady, I don’t believe you!” he said in disbelief. “You’re just going to waltz out of here as if nothing ever happened, aren’t you? You’re going to mark me down as a mistake and forget about me.”

No, he was wrong. She’d never be able to forget him. She stared at him with pain-glazed eyes, feeling as if she were shattering inside. A sickening headache pounded in her temples, and when she held the necklace out to him again her hand was trembling. “Why are you arguing?” she asked raggedly. “You should be glad. I’m letting you off the hook. Just think how miserable you’d be, married to someone you don’t love.”

He reached out and took the necklace, letting the tiny gold links drip over his fingers like metal tears. The sun pierced the ruby heart, casting a red shadow that danced over the white bench beside her. Savagely he shoved it into his pocket. “Then what are you waiting for?” he shouted. “Go on, get out! What do you want me to do, break down and beg you to stay?”

She swayed, then steadied herself. “No,” she whispered. “I’ve never wanted you to beg for anything.” She moved slowly past him, her legs weak and unwilling to work as they should. She would pack and go to a hotel, and try to get an earlier flight rather than waiting until her original flight was scheduled. She hadn’t imagined that it would be so difficult, or that she would feel so battered. This was worse, far worse, than anything Scott had ever done to her. He had hurt her physically and mentally, but he had never been able to touch her heart. It was killing her to leave Blake, but she had to do it.

Her headache was worse; as she stumbled around the bedroom trying to gather her clothing she had to grab at the furniture several times to keep from falling to her knees. Her mind was muddied, her thoughts jumbled, and nothing made much sense except the overpowering need she had to be gone. She had to leave before she was hurt any more, because she didn’t think she’d be able to live if anything else happened.

“Stop it,” a low voice commanded, and a hand caught her wrist, pulling her fingers away from the lingerie that she had been tossing carelessly into her suitcase. “You can pack later, when you’re feeling better. You have a headache, don’t you?”

She turned her head to look at him and almost staggered when her vision swayed alarmingly. “Yes,” she mumbled.

“I thought so. I watched you practically crawl up the stairs.” He put his arm around her waist, a curiously impersonal touch, and led her to the bed where they had shared so many nights. “Come on, you need a nap. You surprise me; I didn’t think you were the type who lived on nerves, but this is a tension headache if I’ve ever seen one.” His fingers moved down the front of her blouse, slipping the buttons out of their holes, and he eased the garment off her.

“I’m almost never sick,” she apologized. “I’m sorry.” She let him unsnap her bra and toss it aside. No, it wasn’t a matter of letting him do anything. The truth was that she didn’t feel capable of struggling with him over who would remove her clothes, and she badly needed the nap he had suggested. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t already seen every inch of her body. He eased her down on the bed and unfastened her slacks, sliding an arm under her and lifting her so he could pull them down over her hips. Her shoes came off with the slacks; then his hands returned and made short work of the filmy panties that were her last remaining garment.

Gently he turned her on her stomach, and she sighed as he began to rub the tight muscles in her neck. “I’m returning the favor,” he murmured. “Just think of all the massages you’ve given me. Relax and go to sleep. You’re tired, too tired to do anything right now. Sleep, darling.”

She did sleep, deeply and without dreaming, sedated by his strong fingers as they rubbed the aching tension from her back and shoulders. It was dark when she woke, but her headache was gone. She felt fuzzy and disoriented, and she blinked at the dark form that rose from a chair beside the bed.

“Do you feel better?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, pushing her heavy hair away from her face. He tuned on the lamp and sat down on the edge of the bed, surveying her with narrowed eyes, as if gauging for himself how well she was feeling.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” she said awkwardly. “I’ll pack now, and go to a hotel—”

“It’s too late to go anywhere tonight,” he interrupted. “You’ve slept for hours. Alberta left a plate warming for you, if you feel like eating. I think you should try to eat something, or you’ll be sick again. I didn’t realize what a strain you had been under,” he added thoughtfully.

She was hungry, and she sat up, holding the sheet to her. “I feel as if I could eat a cow,” she said ruefully.

He chuckled softly. “I hope you’ll settle for something less than a whole cow,” he said, untangling a nightgown from the jumble of clothing that still littered the bed. He plucked the sheet away from her fingers and settled the nightgown over her head as impersonally as if he were dressing a child. Then he found her robe, and she obediently slid her arms into the sleeves while he held it.

“You don’t have to coddle me,” she said. “I feel much better. After food, I want a shower, and then I’ll be fine.”

“I like coddling you,” he replied. “Just think of how many times you helped me to dress, how many times you coaxed me to eat, how many times you’ve picked me up when I lay sprawled on the floor.”

He walked downstairs with her and sat beside her while she ate. She could feel his steady gaze on her, but the anger that had been there earlier was gone. Had it been only pride that made him lash out at her; did he now realize that she was right?

When she went back upstairs he was right behind her. She looked at him questioningly when he entered the bedroom with her. “Take your shower,” he said, taking her shoulders and turning her in the direction of the bathroom. “I’ll wait out here for you. I want to make sure you’re okay before I go to bed.”

“I’m fine,” she protested.

“I’ll stay,” he said firmly, and that was that. Knowing that he was waiting, she hurried through her shower. When she came out of the bathroom he was sitting in the chair he’d occupied before, and he got to his feet.

“Bedtime.” He smiled, pushing the robe off her shoulders. She hadn’t fastened it, knowing that she would be taking it right off again, and it slipped to the floor. He leaned down and lifted her off her feet, then deposited her on the bed. She gasped and clutched at his shoulder.

“What was that for?” she asked, looking up at him.

“For this,” he answered calmly, and kissed her. It was a deeply intimate kiss, his mouth opening over hers and his tongue moving in to touch hers. She dug her nails into his shoulder in surprise.

“Let me go,” she said, pulling her mouth way from his.

“I’ll let you go tomorrow,” he murmured. “Tonight is mine.”

He bent down to her again, and she rolled her head away; denied the sweet bloom of her lips, he found the sensitive slope where her neck met her shoulder and nipped at it with his teeth, making her gasp again. He dipped his hand into the bodice of her nightgown, rubbing his palm over the rich globes that had lured him.

“Blake…don’t do this,” she pleaded achingly.

“Why? You love me to touch your breasts,” he countered.

She turned her head to look at him, and her lips were trembling. “Yes,” she admitted. “But I’m leaving tomorrow. This…will only make it more difficult. I’ve accepted another job, and I have to go.”

“I understand,” he murmured, still stroking her flesh. “I’ll put you on a plane tomorrow, if that’s what you want, but we still have tonight together, and I want to spend it making love to you. Don’t you like what we do to each other? Don’t you like making me go out of my skull? You do. You make me wild, with your body like hot silk on me. One more night, darling. Let us have this last night together.”

It was exactly what she hadn’t wanted, to make love to him and know that she never would again, but the sensual promise he was making her with his hands and body was a heady lure. One more night, one more memory.

“All right,” she whispered, beginning to unbutton his shirt. His hot flesh beckoned her, and she pressed her lips to him, feeling the curling hair under her mouth and the shiver that rippled over him. The intoxicating excitement that always seized her at his touch was taking over again, and she unbuckled his pants, helped him kick them away. He parted her legs and fit himself between them, the fever of feeling so high that no more preparation was needed, no more loving required to make her ready for him.

With a slow, smooth thrust he took her, and she adjusted her body to his weight and motion, letting the excitement well up like a cresting wave and take her away.

One more night. Then it would be finished.