Angrily she told herself that there was nothing she could have or should have done differently last night. She wouldn't repeat the mistakes of the past. The purpose of pain was to teach you not to go there again. The greater the pain, the deeper the lesson.

Len had been a world-cla.s.s teacher.

Hannah got up and went to the bathroom. It was clean, cool, done in a refreshing mix of navy blue, sunshine yellow, and white. The tub was big enough for two. She ignored it and headed for the shower.

She discovered that it was disconcerting to look out over the slowly thickening traffic while you showered, even when you knew the gla.s.s was one-way. Even more unsettling was the shampoo she lathered all over herself.

It smelled like Archer.

Trying not to think about him, she toweled herself dry with quick efficiency, raked her fingers through her hair by way of styling it, and climbed into the underwear she had rinsed out in the middle of the night when she hadn't been able to sleep.

The clothes she put on were the same ones she had worn in Broome white slacks and a flowered shirt. The slacks had a tea stain on one knee. The blouse had stains, too, but they didn't show through the bright flowers. The sandals, at least, were her own. They looked as worn and ragged as she felt. She thought of makeup, then flinched at the memory of Archer applying it to her face, his eyes intent and his mouth smiling as he proved how waterproof the stuff was by kissing her deep and long.

She didn't bother to look in the mirror on her way out of the bedroom. She had done the best she could with what she had. Stomach growling, she set off down the hall in search of food. The smell of coffee led her to a big kitchen that managed to look cozy despite its size. A woman with gold-streaked chestnut hair and graceful hands was sitting at the breakfast bar, eyes closed, nursing a redheaded baby. Not wanting to intrude, Hannah began edging back out of the room.

Naturally, she b.u.mped into something.

"Lianne, are you up, too?" the woman said, turning toward the sound. "Oh, h.e.l.lo. You must be Hannah McGarry."

"Um, yes."

"I'm Honor Mallory, Archer's sister. Kyle's, too, but I try to keep that a secret."

The mischief in Honor's voice and her striking, green-gold eyes put Hannah at ease instantly. "Good morning, Honor. Sorry to disturb you. I'll come back later."

"When Summer's nursing, you couldn't disturb her with a ten-ton bomb. She has her daddy's focus."

Hannah thought of Archer, the laser intensity of his eyes and mind when he wanted something. "Or her uncle's."

"You mean Archer?"

"Right."

The flavor of Australia made Honor smile. "She certainly has Archer's eyes."

Drawn by the contented baby, Hannah walked closer. As though sensing her presence, Summer opened her eyes and stared. An odd, silvery feeling went through Hannah, part pleasure and part pain. No matter what problems it might bring, the thought of holding Archer's baby called to her at a level too deep to deny.

"You're right," she whispered. "The baby has Archer's eyes."

"If Summer gets his discipline along with it, she'll be the first female president of the United States." Honor yawned. "If she gets my discipline, she'll be h.e.l.l on wheels."

Summer released the nipple with a distinct pop and waved her little hands at her mother.

"All through, pumpkin?" Honor asked, laughing softly as she tucked herself back into her clothes. "Lord knows you ate enough cereal for both of us."

For the first time Hannah noticed the tiny gobs of cereal splattered here and there on the counter. And on Honor.

"The counter ate enough to be full, too," Hannah said, laughing. "Where's a rag?"

"There's a clean sponge in the sink, but you don't have to wipe up after my messy daughter."

"You can pay me back by letting me hold her. Unless she doesn't like strangers?"

"She's never met a stranger. They're all just big toys to her. Here, take the b.u.t.terball and give me the sponge."

Though Honor's words were casual, her eyes were intent while she handed over the baby. When she saw Hannah's easy expertise as she supported and cuddled Summer, Honor relaxed and began mopping up after the arm-waving baby who was determined to feed herself and everything else within range.

"I can see Summer's in good hands," Honor said. "Do you have kids?"

The pain was accustomed, but still sharp. "No. At first my husband didn't want any. Then... it wasn't possible."

"I'm sorry. My tongue wakes up a lot sooner than my brain. Jake said something about you losing your husband recently."

The sympathy in Honor's eyes made Hannah feel like a fraud. She wondered how she could possibly explain her relationship with Len. Or more precisely, her lack of one.

"For the last seven years, Len and I shared a name and a place. That's all."

Honor looked at the other woman's dark indigo eyes, saw the lines of tension and unhappiness around her mouth, and felt even worse.

Summer waved her fists, caught one of Hannah's hands, and began gumming it enthusiastically. When she got to the big silver-blue diamond, she settled down to gnaw in earnest.

"Teething, aren't you?" Hannah murmured, smiling.

"Uh-oh, the drool factory is in full cry. Here, you don't have to put up with that."

"Don't worry. My hands are clean."

Honor blinked, then laughed. "I wasn't worried about that. She cut her first tooth on a fish cosh."

"What's that?"

"A blunt instrument used to put fish out of their misery as soon as we get them aboard." Honor smiled and looked hopefully at the other woman. "Do you like to fish? I can't get Faith out on our boat. Faith is my twin sister."

"The only thing I've ever 'fished1 for are oysters, so I don't know if I like to fish." Hannah nuzzled Summer's fine, fiery hair and inhaled the paradoxical scent of a baby fresh powder and wet diaper. She had skin that made a petal look like sandpaper. Eyes as wise and mischievous as a monkey's. "The Yanomami tribe we lived with were land people. Monkey hunting, slash-and-burn agriculture, that sort of thing. No fishing. Although some tribes hunted Amazon catfish that were bigger than men."

"Yanomami? Are we talking Brazilian rain forests?"

"Right." Hannah shifted Summer onto her hip, giving the baby a better grip on her hand, and herself a better grip on the baby. The motions were unconscious. Along with every village girl over the age of five, she had been a babysitter for the younger children while the mothers worked in the small, burned-over fields. "From the time I was five years old until I ran off to get married at nineteen, I lived with the Yanomami. My parents were missionaries at the time. My father still is."

"If anyone ever took me away from the sea, I'd miss it. Do you miss your rain forest?"

"No." The curt reply echoed, making Hannah wince. "I missed the place where I had spent my first five years Maine and the kaleidoscope of seasons. But there were some good things about the rain forest. The scent of the air at dawn, the flash of b.u.t.terflies bigger than my hand, the incredible liquid light after a rain, campfires at night, the laughter and mischief of the children..." She nuzzled Summer again. "But I never felt at home there. Not like my parents. I suspect that they loved the rain forest and the Yanomami even more than they loved G.o.d. I know that they loved their tribe more than they did me."

Honor laughed. Then she realized that the other woman had spoken the simple truth.

"Mother was forty-four when I was born," Hannah said calmly. "They had lived among the Yanomami for twenty years. They called me a gift from G.o.d, and accepted that they had to leave the rain forest for my first few years. The risk of childbirth and babyhood in Stone Age conditions is just too great. It must have been terribly hard on my parents to leave the land and people they loved. They gave me five years to grow strong before they went back. They were very dutiful parents."

"But not to be loved," Honor protested. Hannah shrugged. "Their love and loyalty was unselfish, given to G.o.d and humanity rather than to a selfish personal concept of family." She rubbed her cheek against the sweet, soft baby. "I'm not that generous. I want to love and be loved, to have a family of my own."

Summer looked up at Hannah. Archer's eyes, clear and gray, hints of green, a whisper of blue; another layer of pain growing in Hannah like an oyster creating a pearl, layer after beautiful layer, growing in silence and darkness, waiting...

The shadows in Hannah's eyes made Honor wish she could go to her, hug her, tell her everything would be all right. Whatever everything was. But Honor was old enough to know that a lot of things didn't turn out all right. She looked at the clock and stood up quickly.

"Time to get Summer's daddy," she said. "Come with me and meet the monster's maker."

When Honor reached for Summer, the baby frowned, gnawed harder on Hannah's ring, and clung more tightly to her prize. Hannah laughed.

"I'll carry her," she said to Honor.

"She weighs a ton."

"That's the nice thing about healthy babies. They're an armload."

Honor coded their way into the elevator and out at a lower floor. The smell of a swimming pool greeted them as soon as they stepped out of the elevator. Along with chlorine came the musky odor of a well-used gym.

"Ah," Honor said, making a wry face, "the sweet scent of men."

"Women don't sweat?" Hannah asked, her dark eyebrows raised.

"Of course not. We glow like the delicate little flowers we are."

Hannah was still laughing when they rounded a corner. The double doors leading to the gym were wide open, giving a good view of the various instruments of torture that were the hallmark of a well-equipped gym.

She barely looked at the collection of bars, barbells, pulleys, rowing machines, and the like. Her whole attention was fastened on the two big, physically well-matched men who looked like they were doing their best to kill one another. Hands, elbows, knees, and feet moved in blurs of speed as the men sparred dodging, weaving, luring, trapping, and escaping in a deadly ballet. Blows landed, a man grunted and spun away, only to return with flashing speed.

Frozen, she stood and stared. She hadn't seen anything like it since Archer had fought their way through a riot. Then he had been burdened by Len. Today Archer was free. His speed and stamina were frightening.

"Whew," Honor said. "Archer's not wearing any padding. He must have really needed a full-adrenaline workout. Either that or Jake's getting fat and lazy."

"If Jake is the one fighting with Archer, he's not fat or lazy."

"Yeah." Honor smiled and silently saluted Jake as he ducked under a blow and flipped Archer over his back. "Looking good, honey. Looking real good."

Catlike, Archer landed fully balanced and ready to counterattack. Jake went down as his feet were scissored out from under him. More blows landed while the men scrambled to their feet and fought for position. Archer was protected only by his speed, his skill, and his partner's unwillingness to do real injury. Though padding protected Jake, Archer still pulled his punches; he wanted to keep the edge on his fighting skills, not to hurt the man who was his best friend and his sister's husband.

He threw Jake, followed him down, and set up for a killing blow. Jake could have dodged or counterattacked. Instead, one of his hands slapped the mat. "That's it, Archer. This old boy is ready for breakfast."

Instantly Archer stood, offered Jake a hand up, and then gave him a brief, rib-cracking hug. "h.e.l.l of a workout. Thanks."

Jake stretched his shoulders cautiously beneath the padding, and said, "My pleasure. Like h.e.l.l."

Laughing, breathing hard and deep, sweat soaked from scalp to heels, the two men stood for a few moments longer on the mat, enjoying each other and the feeling of a good workout. When Jake began removing his padding, Archer turned toward the showers. The instant he saw Hannah, his smile vanished. So did his easy relaxation. Between one heartbeat and the next, he was fully on guard.

Honor saw the difference in him immediately. Archer's distant, ruthless side was one that he rarely showed to his family. Or needed to. She looked from her brother to Hannah's beautiful, shadowed eyes. Hannah, too, had lost her smile.

"I see you've met," Archer said, striding across the gym floor toward the two women. "Hi, sis. Want a hug?"

With a wary eye on her oldest brother's sweaty body, Honor blew him a kiss. "Consider yourself hugged."

"Huh. Is that what you're going to tell Jake?"

"Jake's sweaty body is different from any other sweaty male body on earth. He's s.e.xy."

"Not to me."

"I'm soooo relieved."

Grinning, Archer turned to Hannah. But it wasn't her that he looked at. "Hey, Summer," he said gently. "How's the most beautiful angel in heaven?"

At the sound of her name, Summer lifted her head and looked around for one of her very favorite human beings. Archer held out his hands. She abandoned Hannah's well-chewed ring and waved her arms happily.

"She's teething again," Honor warned. "The drool factory is working around the clock."

"That's my girl," he said approvingly. "You need teeth in this world."

Despite Summer's eagerness, Hannah didn't want to hand the baby over to a man who just moments ago had been fully focused on turning himself into a deadly weapon.

Archer saw the hesitation and simply lifted Summer into his own arms. "Don't worry," he said to Hannah. "If it comes to visitation rights, I won't do any damage."

The icy flick of his voice made her flinch.

Honor's eyes widened. Visitation? She looked at Hannah speculatively.

Summer didn't notice any of the emotional undertones. She cooed and bounced and made a grab at Archer's nose. He could have ducked easily, but he didn't. He just turned and made gobbling noises against her fat little arm until she giggled and let go. Then she grabbed a handful of his chest hair and pulled. Wincing, he gently opened her fingers and growled against her neck, careful of her tender skin and his growing beard.

"Who taught you to fight dirty?" he asked the baby.

Drooling blissfully, Summer chewed on whatever part of her uncle she could reach. Archer grinned as though she was offering him the rarest of pearls rather than teething drool. Without even a token struggle, he surrendered his little finger, a willing sacrifice to the G.o.d of sore gums. As a reward, Summer leaned against him, sighed dreamily, and peed her diaper right through.

"Oops," Honor said, reaching for her daughter. "That warm stuff you feel running down your leg isn't sweat. Sorry about that"

"It's not the first time." Archer kissed Summer's nose. "Come on, beautiful. You and your uncle are taking a shower. How about you, Jake?" he asked, turning back toward the mat.

"Go ahead," Jake said. "I want to talk with Honor."

Carrying his niece, Archer headed off for the showers.

"You spoil her," Honor said to his broad, sweaty back.

"Yeah, ain't it grand?"

Carrying sweaty pads, Jake came up to Honor, kissed her thoroughly, and said, "Introduce me to the woman who can make Archer mad enough to kill."

Eighteen