Adam stared at the man, refusing to take the bait. After a few heated minutes, talk returned to the mundane details of business.

"Say, Bryant, the old Times looks pretty healthy these days," one of the men said. "Pretty fat with ads."

"I certainly give it enough money every week," said another man, who owned a chain of department stores.

"Circulation's growing steadily," Adam said.

"You know, Bryant, you should think about expanding, like that fellow Hearst down in L.A. Buy a couple other little rags somewhere. A man can't make his mark these days thinking small. You've certainly got access to the capital."

"It's a thought," Adam said tersely.

The man went on to talk about how he had commandeered his own store into a chain. But Adam was not listening. He had not missed the man's reference to Elizabeth's fortune, nor the condescension implied in his advice. Slowly, Adam's good spirits began to dissipate as he looked at the older men's expressions of self-satisfaction.

They don't consider me in their league, he thought. They tolerate me not for my successes but because of my marriage.

After a moment, he excused himself and went out onto the terrace.

He leaned against a pillar, alone in the dark for a long time. He heard a laugh and recognized it as Elizabeth's. He saw her coming out onto the terrace with two older women, and drew back into the shadows, not wanting to face her.

One of the women, a dour matron, was talking about marriage and she seemed determined to spoil Elizabeth's mood. "It's so important to marry the right person," the woman said.

"Yes, indeed," Elizabeth said.

"One can't be too careful these days," the woman went on, "about finding a man of distinction and good standing. One wouldn't want to be taken advantage of, I would think."

"No, indeed," Elizabeth said.

The old woman leveled her gaze at Elizabeth. "Perhaps you can help with something, my dear. I've heard some people say that your marriage is not a very brilliant match for you." She smiled. "What in the world should I tell them?"

Elizabeth looked the woman in the eye and smiled back. "Tell them that it is a match of the heart. How can anything be more brilliant than that?"

Adam stood in the shadows for a long time, until after Elizabeth and the women had gone back inside. Conflicting emotions coursed through him. He felt angry and humiliated over the woman's insult. Like the man's remark earlier, it stirred in him a pa.s.sion to fight to prove his worthiness. But there was another emotion churning inside him, a dirty little feeling of shame, illuminated clearly now by the light of Elizabeth's stunning retort to the woman. He felt suddenly small and unworthy.

He loved Elizabeth, but it was partly for what she could do for him -- for her wealth, her position, for what she could help him become. But she loved him purely for what he was, right now.

He moved out from behind the pillar and stood there, staring at the brightly lit room beyond the terrace doors. He spotted Elizabeth but could not move to go in. So he remained outside, watching her through the gla.s.s.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

It was Christmas Eve, and the office was dark and quiet. Adam was the only one left in the executive suite. He had stayed to go over some business after calling Elizabeth and telling her not to wait up. He picked up a memo. It was from Josh Hillman, and it detailed the dismissal of a minor libel suit against the Times.

Adam marked it to be filed and put it aside, thinking of what an a.s.set Josh had become. Adam had hired him not long after the divorce, getting rid of the overpriced law firm that the Bickfords had used for decades. Josh had proven to be not only an excellent lawyer, but was also becoming a trusted general counsel.

Adam turned his attention to a thick folder that had arrived late that day. It was a research report he had ordered about the rival Journal, and the news was not good.

During the past year, the Journal expanded its circulation to the new parts of the city in the south. Adam had had no choice but to follow course, and now the Times and the Journal were locked in a costly circulation war. To make matters worse, the Sacramento paper that Adam had bought had still not turned around and its improvements had come at the expense of the Times' revenues. Adam couldn't afford to keep siphoning money from the Times; its profit margin had shrunk to its lowest since Bickford had run the newspaper.

Adam tossed the folder aside and picked up a second one. It was a market study of two family-owned newspapers in San Diego and Seattle. Adam had ordered the study six months ago to determine the potential of the struggling newspapers. The report confirmed his hunches. The papers were poorly managed but located in growing markets.

Adam knew they could be turned into gold mines, without much initial investment. It was a surer bet than Sacramento. The two newspapers were ripe for takeovers, ideal to become strong links in the Bryant newspaper chain.

Adam put the report down with a sigh. He had tried to borrow money from banks, using the Times as collateral, but its profit margin was too low. For the first time in his life, Adam felt truly discouraged. There it was -- opportunity, right in front of him. And no money to take advantage of it.

He glanced at his watch. It was after eleven. He stuffed the reports in his briefcase and started for home.

It was raining and red-and-green Christmas lights reflected off the patent-leather streets. As he drove up the hill toward Jackson Street, Adam tried to put his dispirited thoughts behind him. He was always careful not to bring the office home. Home was Elizabeth, the only thing that took his mind off everything else.

Upstairs, he was surprised to see the light on in the bedroom. He opened the door softly.

Elizabeth was sitting on a window seat, staring out at the rain. She was wearing a robe of thin white silk, and her hair was arranged in a haphazard way on her head.

"I've been waiting for you," she said.

He went over and kissed her. "You shouldn't have."

"I wanted to." She slid off the window seat and Adam's eyes were drawn to her bare legs. She slipped off his jacket and loosened his tie.

"d.a.m.n you, you've forgotten, haven't you," she said, smiling.

"About what?"

"It's Christmas Eve," she said. She used his tie to pull him toward her lips. She kissed him deeply, pressing her body into his. "Sometimes I think when you're in the office, you forget about the rest of the world," she said.

"Not all of it," he said.

"Well, you've forgotten that you always give me my gift on Christmas Eve."

He reached in his pants pocket and pulled out a small black velvet case. With a laugh, she took it and opened it. Inside was an antique jade cat. "Adam, it's beautiful," she said, turning it over in her fingers.

"It's the same color as your eyes."

"I love it," she said.

He began to unb.u.t.ton his shirt. "Well, it's not a diamond necklace," he said with a small laugh.

"Adam, I said I love it." She placed it carefully on the bedside table and laid down on the bed on her stomach, staring at it. He glanced over at her, the excitement rising slowly inside him. She turned over and her robe fell slightly open.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, smiling.

He laughed. He was never quite sure if her s.e.xuality was purely ingenuous or part of an artful plan. He was never sure of anything with her, except that she loved him. Before he could answer, she went to a small table, set with dinnerware and candles. "I knew you would probably forget to eat tonight," she said, as she lit the candles and poured two gla.s.ses of champagne. "So I had something prepared for you."

"I want only one thing right now -- you."

Elizabeth looked at him for a moment, then with a smile, picked up a gla.s.s of champagne and sat down on the bed. She set the gla.s.s aside and let her robe fall to her waist. She was wearing nothing underneath it.

Adam stared at her b.r.e.a.s.t.s for a moment then took a step toward her.

"No," Elizabeth said. "I want you to unless in front of me...slowly."

Adam began to take off his clothes. Elizabeth reached over, dipped two fingers in her champagne and then ran them lightly over her nipples. Adam stood before her, naked.

"I want to watch you get hard," Elizabeth said. She pushed aside the robe and ran her fingers slowly down her body, past her stomach. She spread her legs, touching the insides of her thighs, then the mound of soft red hair. Adam watched her, stunned. He had never seen her touch herself before. He a.s.sumed it was something she would never do, considering what Reed had forced her to do. Her expression, as she looked at him now, was one of complete trust. Aroused, he took his p.e.n.i.s in his hand. Their eyes were locked on each other as they stroked themselves.

"I'm so wet," she whispered. "I want you now."

Adam went to her and lowered himself, easing himself inside her. "I love being in you," he whispered.

"Go deeper."

Adam plunged and she let out a sharp cry. With each stroke Adam withdrew almost completely and went back in as far as he could. Their climaxes came at the same time, leaving them limp in each other's arms.

Adam lay on top of Elizabeth, softly kissing her neck and face. Then, as he felt himself grow soft inside her, he slowly withdrew. He rolled to his side, drawing her into his arms. They lay there for a while, Elizabeth lightly stroking his chest.

"Now I am hungry," Adam said.

"But not for me now," she said, touching him playfully.

He laughed. "Maybe. But first, some food."

While he ate dinner, she listened to him talk about Josh and the lawsuit and the circulation war. He considered telling her about the newspapers in San Diego and Seattle but didn't. He had discovered that she was very intuitive about his moods and might pick up on his worries about money. So he listened as she entertained him with anecdotes about her day. She was a talented mimic and made him laugh with her imitations of Enid and the other women of the opera guild.

But mainly, he just watched her. The graceful sweep of her expressive hands. The shimmer of candlelight on her skin and in her green eyes. Her mouth. Her throat. The blush that spread down her throat and across her chest as she laughed and drank.

He reached over and grabbed her hand. "I love you, Elizabeth," he said.

At dawn, he was still awake, staring at the ceiling. He lay still, watching the shadows leave the room.

"Adam, what's wrong?" Elizabeth touched his shoulder. "You've been tossing and turning all night."

"Nothing, really. Go back to sleep."

She propped herself up on an elbow and looked at him. "I know something's bothering you. I've known it for weeks, but I thought you'd eventually tell me." She paused, waiting for him to speak. "Adam, don't shut me out. I can help you."

He looked at her for a moment then kissed her. "I don't think so," he said.

"Is it the newspaper? Is something wrong?"

"No, the Times is doing fine."

She paused. "Remember that first night we spent together, down in the park?"

"Of course."

"You told me about your dream, Adam. About how you wanted to build an empire of newspapers." She touched his face. "That night, I wanted to be a part of it. But how can I when you keep me shut out?"

He shook his head.

"Tell me," she prompted.

"There are these two newspapers," he said slowly. "In Seattle and San Diego. I'm thinking about buying them."

She smiled. "That's wonderful."

Adam hesitated. "I don't think I can...a.s.sume the financial burden right now. I don't have the capital."

There was a long silence. A dog barked somewhere outside. When he looked up, Elizabeth was staring at him intently, her expression somber.

He touched her cheek. "There will be other chances, other newspapers to buy in the future. When the Times is stronger financially, I'll be able to swing it." He kissed her. "Go back to sleep."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

That spring, Elizabeth became pregnant. Adam was relieved because he had grown concerned about her obsession with it. As she put on weight, she would stand before the mirror admiring her changing body. Adam was caught up in her euphoria.

"It's a boy," she said, placing his hand on her belly. "I can feel him. It's your son, Adam." Tears formed in her eyes, and she pressed her face into his shoulder, and he held her tightly. "I'm so happy, Adam," she said.

He liked to watch her after she fell asleep. He would lie next to her, watching the rise and fall of her rounded stomach. He was filled with awe and a terrifying happiness.

One night in June, he was awakened by a moaning sound. He turned over. Elizabeth was gone. He was immediately wide awake. Then he saw her, standing at the door of the dressing room. In the moonlight, he could see her stricken face. She was holding her stomach.

"Something's wrong," she said.

He went to her. "What --?"

"I don't know, I don't know..."

He grabbed her robe from the bed and saw the dark stain of blood on the sheet in the moonlight. He threw the robe over her shoulders and quickly dressed. He led her carefully down the stairs and to the car. He was calm, his mind working by rote as he drove through the deserted streets. Even the sight of Elizabeth curled into a ball on the seat next to him, her face contorted with pain, did not unnerve him.

At the hospital, Elizabeth was taken into the emergency ward. Adam watched her disappear behind the doors, flanked by strangers in white. He found a chair and sat, staring at the doors, waiting. He tried to remember a prayer, but only fragments from his boyhood catechism and remembrances of lulling Latin words came to him. He closed his eyes and held his lowered head in his hands.

"Please, please, please," he murmured, over and over.

After an hour, a young doctor emerged. Adam jumped to his feet.

"Your wife had a miscarriage, Mr. Bryant," he said. "She's lost a lot of blood, but she will be all right."

Adam fell back in the chair. He closed his eyes.