LITMIR.BIZ

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glanced at her. “What?”

      “What you said, earlier. Was it difficult for you,” she said slowly. “Holding back?”

      “Yes.” His face changed. “Apparently that didn’t occur to you four years ago,” he said sarcastically.

      “A lot of things didn’t occur to me four years ago,” she said. She felt a dawning fear that she didn’t want to explore.

      “Don’t strain your memory,” he said with a mocking smile. “God forbid that you might have to reconsider your position. It’s too damned late, even if you did.”

      “I know that. I wouldn’t…I have my career.”

      “Your career.” He nodded, but there was something disconcerting in the way he said it, in the way he looked at her.

      “I’d better see about the roast,” she murmured, retreating.

      He studied her face with a purely masculine appreciation. “Better fix your lipstick, unless you want David making embarrassing remarks.”

      “David is terrified of me,” she informed him. “I once beat him up in full view of half our classmates.”

      “So he told me, but he’s grown.”

      “Not too much.” She touched her mouth. It was faintly sore from the pressure of his hard kisses. She wouldn’t have expected so much passion from him after four years.

      “Did I hurt?” he asked quietly. “I didn’t mean to.”

      “You always were a little rough when we made love,” she recalled with a wistful smile. “I never minded.”

      His eyes kindled and before he could make the move his expression telegraphed, she beat a hasty retreat into the kitchen. He was overwhelming at close range, and she couldn’t handle an affair with him. She didn’t dare try. Having lived through losing him once, she knew she’d never survive having to go through it again. He still wanted her, but that was all. She was filed under unfinished business, and there was something a little disturbing about his attitude toward her. It wasn’t quite unsatisfied passion on his part, she thought nervously. It was more like a deeply buried, long-nurtured vendetta.

      It was probably a good thing that she was going back to New York soon, she thought dimly. And not a minute too soon. Her knees were so wobbly she could barely walk, and just from one kiss. If he turned up the heat, as he had during their time together, she would never be able to resist him. The needs she felt were overpowering now. She was a woman and she reacted like one. It was her bad luck that the only man who aroused her was the one man she daren’t succumb to. If Steve really was holding a grudge against her for breaking off their engagement, giving in to him would be a recipe for disaster.

      Supper was a rather quiet affair, with Meg introspective and Steven taciturn while David tried to carry the conversation alone.

      “Can’t you two say something? Just a word now and again while I try to enjoy this perfectly cooked pot roast?” David groaned, glancing from one set face to the other. “Have you had another fight?”

      “We haven’t been fighting,” Meg said innocently. “Have we, Steve?”

      Steven looked down at his plate, deliberately cutting a piece of meat without replying.

      David threw up his hands. “I’ll never understand you two!” he muttered. “I’ll just go see about dessert, shall I? I shall,” he said, but he was talking to himself as he left the room.

      “I don’t want any,” she called after him.

      “Yes, she does,” Steve said immediately, catching her eyes. “You’re too thin. If you lose another two or three pounds, you’ll be able to walk through a harp.”

      “I’m a dancer,” she said. “I can’t dance with a fat body.”

      He smiled gently. “That’s right. Fight me.” Something alien glittered in his eyes and his breathing quickened.

      “Somebody needs to,” she said with forced humor. “All that feminine fawning has ruined you. Your mother said that lines of women form everywhere you go these days.”

      His eyes contemplated his coffee cup intensely and his brow furrowed. “Did she?” he asked absently.

      “But that you never take any of them seriously.” She laughed, but without much humor. “Haven’t you even thought about marrying?”

      He looked up, his expression briefly hostile. “Sure. Once.”

      She felt uncomfortable. “It wouldn’t have worked,” she said stiffly. “I wouldn’t have shared you, even when I was eighteen and naive.”

      His eyes narrowed. “You think I’m modern enough in my outlook to keep a wife and a mistress at the same time?”

      The question disturbed her. “Daphne was beautiful and sophisticated,” she replied. “I was green behind the ears. Totally uninhibited. I used to embarrass you…”

      “Never!”

      There was muted violence in the explosive word.

      She glanced up at him curiously. “But I did! Your father said that’s why you never liked to take me out in public…”

      “My father. What a champion.” He lifted the cold coffee to his lips and sipped it. It felt as cold as he did inside. He looked at Meg and ached. “Between them, your mother and my father did a pretty damned good job, didn’t they?”

      “Daphne was a fact,” she replied stubbornly.

      He drew in a long, weary breath. “Yes. She was, wasn’t she? You saw that for yourself in the newspaper.”

      “I certainly did.” She sounded bitter. She hated having given her feelings away. She forced a smile. “But, as they say, no harm done. I have a bright career ahead of me and you’re a millionaire several times over.”

      “I’m that, all right. I look in the mirror twice a day and say, ‘lucky me.’”

      “Don’t tease.”

      He turned his wrist and glanced at the face of the thin gold watch. “I have to go,” he said, pushing back his chair.

      “Are you off to a business meeting?” she probed gently.

      He stared at her without speaking for a few seconds, just long enough to give him a psychological advantage. “No,” he said. “I have a date. As my mother told you,” he added with a cold smile, “I don’t have any problem getting women these days.”

      Meg didn’t know how she managed to smile, but she did. “The lucky girl,” she murmured on a prolonged sigh.

      Steve glowered at her. “You never stop, do you?”

      “Can I help it if you’re devastating?” she replied. “I don’t blame women for falling all over you. I used to.”

      “Not for long.”

      She searched his hard face curiously. “I should have talked to you about Daphne, instead of running away.”

      “Let the past lie,” he said harshly. “We’re not the same people we were.”

      “One of us certainly isn’t,” she mused dryly. “You never used to kiss me like that!”

      He cocked an eyebrow. “Did you expect me to remain celibate when you defected?”

      “Of course not,” she replied, averting her eyes. “That would have been asking the impossible.”

      “Fidelity belongs to a committed relationship,” he said.

      She was looking at her hands, not at him. Life seemed so empty lately. Even dancing didn’t fill the great hollow space in her heart. “Being in a committed relationship

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