"Oh?" Did she actually feel the tiniest twinge of jealousy? Impossible.

"As a matter of fact," he said, deceptively sober, "there were three times when I considered it. The first time was with Sharon. She was a childhood friend; our families would have loved it. The second time was with Jill. I was at college then and particularly annoyed at my father about some petty matter. I might have married her just to spite him."

"And the third?" she prodded, curious.

"The third," he sighed, "was a dear friend who found herself in trouble."

"Pregnant?"

"Yes."

Alanna's eyes widened. "Yours?"

"No. I'd never even slept with her."

She was puzzled. "But you would have married her?"

"Yes." Alex answered without hesitation. "I thought enough of her to care that the child had a name, a father and some security."

"What about the biological father?"

He took a breath. "He was in Vietnam ... never made it back." The sadness in Alex's eyes spoke of his own sense of loss.

Alanna's voice lowered. "I'm sorry." Hesitantly, she sought the end of the story. "And ... what happened to her?"

Snapping back to the present, he raised strong fingers to lightly caress her face. "She lost the baby. But she's gotten married since. From what I hear she's got four kids now."

Alanna struggled to digest this newly revealed depth of Alex's character as she fought to cope with the resurgence of desire that his restless fingers were creating. Alex sensed her moment of vulnerability and seized on it, kissing her thoroughly, searching out the depths which, at that moment, she was helpless to seal off. He was the masterful seducer, having perfected the art over the years. And he had found her weak spot.

His lips devastated her with their exactness, drawing small sighs and a growing response from her own. His kiss held just the right blend of advance and retreat, luring her toward the point of entrapment. And what sweet entrapment it was. Mindlessly she swayed toward it, unable to think of anything but the pleasure of the moment.

Then, from amid the sensual eddy, she discovered another of his consummate skills as he very gently began to undress her. One after the other, with quiet deliberation, he released the buttons of her blouse. In the process his fingers brushed her skin again and again, always departing even before the whispered cry had escaped her passion-swollen lips. She was enthralled and quite happily at his mercy. Finally, with the last button, the silken fabric fell open. His hands slid along her flesh, easily finding the simple catch of her bra.

Alanna's knees trembled. His touch was wonderful, inspiring feelings of femininity she had forced herself to forget for too long. Now, with the force of waters suddenly undammed, these feelings surged forward. Eagerly she met his kiss and arched her body against him. His lips clung to hers as, with both hands, he eased the blouse from her shoulders, discarding it and her bra on the floor. His fingers traveled across her flesh, hungry, insatiable, for long moments. Then, with a moan deep in his throat, he lifted her and put her down on the bed. Taking both her hands in his and pinning them to the sheets by her shoulders, he paused to look at her, his gaze searing its way from her face down her neck to the twin peaks of her breasts, now full and creamy, awaiting his touch. Her breath came in shortened gasps, adding to the temptation of her body.

Alanna thought she would explode. This man had unleashed a flood tide of desire within her; only his possession would salve the growing ache within. But he stilled, almost in awe. His hands released hers, then fell to cup her breasts, holding each as he lowered his head to that soft fullness. One at a time he teased the rosy peaks until each was a tiny pebbled dome quivering for more. When his lips returned to hers she could deny him nothing. Her kiss contained her very soul-for it was there that Alex Knight had found her vulnerability.

"I love you," he whispered, then repeated it louder, more firmly. "I love you."

Her returning whisper was shaky. "You don't love me. You may love my body, or some image of the woman you think you've waited for all these years. But you don't love me. You can't. You don't know me."

Alanna watched as he straightened and reached for his tie, his eyes dark with smoldering passion. "I do love you, Alanna." Hard upon the disposal of his tie went his jacket. She lay still, mesmerized. She knew she should stop him-this was totally improper-yet she wanted to see him as he saw her now. Reaching forward, she set her own fingers to the task of unbuttoning his shirt, gasping as she pushed it aside to reveal his chest, so broad and bronzed and solid. He picked her up then and pulled her against him, their bodies, bare from the waist up, touching with a rapture Alanna could only have imagined. She cried aloud at the beauty of it and clung to him, savoring the strength of him against her breasts, her arms, her torso.

"I love you, Alanna. I need you." He spoke softly and with conviction, his breath wisping the few loose strands of her hair. He held her back and removed each pin in turn, then spread her golden tresses over her shoulders, his fingers going on to trail further over her flesh.

Alanna was caught up in a hurricane of desire. Its winds blew with such force that she couldn't resist it. His words rocked her, yet she couldn't refute them. His hands inflamed her, yet she couldn't pull away. Her senses swirled round and round, faster and faster, each concentric circle bringing her closer to the center of fulfillment.

Nothing was beyond his reach. His lips never left hers for long, drugging her again and again while his hands played against her with the very expertise of which he'd spoken. She was vaguely aware that he had removed her skirt, but it didn't matter; all that was real was the headiness of his touch, the driving need for more of him.

It was Alex's raw whisper that brought her out of her daze for a moment. "Alanna," he growled, "do you know what you're doing?"

Blinking, she followed his gaze to her hands-her hands-where they lay at his belt. She knew exactly what she was doing; it was the wisdom of the move that halted her abruptly.

"Oh, Alex," she moaned in apology. "You do something to my mind! I had completely forgotten where we are-"

He took her hands in his and lifted them to his mouth, kissing her curled fingers. "I think we've both been carried away." His pause was pregnant with meaning, his eyes growing darker by the minute. "Damn it! I can't even say we'll carry on at my place tonight, can I?"

At first Alanna shared his regret. For the first time in years she had wanted a man. Really wanted him. Even now her body cried out its need. On second thought, however, she was appalled at the setting. This hospital room was no place for lovemaking. And this hospital room would be her home for the next two weeks.

Finally she was relieved. Things had happened much too quickly. To have been carried away by an overwhelming physical craving would have been wrong. She was a woman of calm and careful deliberation, not one to be bowled over by a singularly attractive man. And he was attractive. No, magnificent. Her eye skimmed over his physique in appreciation; then she was jarred out of her reverie by his low bark.

"If you continue to look at me that way I won't be responsible for anything I do. So help me," he looked over his shoulder, "I'll make love to you in the bathroom with my back against the door to keep Sylvia out!"

Alanna burst into spontaneous laughter. "That's an amazing picture," she finally gasped, crossing her arms over her chest in a token gesture of propriety. "I don't think Sylvia would appreciate your efforts."

"My efforts, Alanna, are going to be played through in another minute if you don't do something to stem the tide." Standing, he hauled her up beside him, turned her toward the bathroom and gave her a firm but gentle shove. "Take a shower or something. I intend to!"

Smiling now from another emotion entirely, she took his advice, seeking haven in the bathroom, stepping out of her slip and panty hose and finally discarding the wisps of silk that were her panties atop the pile. Her thoughts were of Alex as she bent to turn on the water, then stretched to adjust the shower spray. He was, in spite of his arrogance and his one-tracked determination to marry her, an endearing sort. And the effect of his lovemaking on her-that went unchallenged. Standing nude before the mirror, she reached back to wind her hair atop her head when her attention was caught by a movement in the mirror.

"Alex!" She whirled around, then stood stock-still, caught anew in the web of enchantment he cast so well.

His eyes didn't miss an inch of her, yet she stood proud and unwavering before him. When he approached she let her hands fall to his shoulders. His shirt was on but still open. It had taken only his gaze to ignite the sparks of passion, barely banked at best, within her. His nearness now was more than she could bear. If he intended to carry out the threat he'd uttered moments before she wouldn't stop him. Her own need was far too great.

"I love you," he moaned against her lips, kissing her deeply, plunging his tongue into her mouth, tasting every recess before wrenching his lips away. Her fingers were white as they clutched his shoulders, her shudders visible when he bent his head to kiss her neck and tongue her breasts. When he moved lower she could only let her head fall back and sigh her delight. That Alex should take such pleasure in her body was heady enough in itself; that his pleasure should set off such shock waves of ecstasy within her was even headier.

At what point her knees buckled she didn't know. Suddenly she found herself kneeling with him. His hands framed her face; his lips caressed her features. It was only the taste of the moisture on his upper lip that brought a returning glimpse of reality.

"The shower!" she cried, jumping up to fumble with the controls until a deep voice from behind gave a firm order.

"Get in, love. I'll see you later."

She turned in time to see him leave the bathroom and its penetrating cloud of mist.

Hot, hot water punished her body in a steady stream as Alanna tried to understand what had happened. There was Alex-Alex who declared his intent to marry her, Alex who claimed he loved her, Alex who wanted her very much. And there was Alanna-a passionate Alanna she barely recognized. The Alanna she thought she'd known had no need for a man; this one craved Alex desperately. The Alanna she thought she'd known was in full and absolute control of herself; this one had thrown caution to the winds and lost herself in desire. The Alanna she thought she'd known was a professional, with her life neatly mapped out; this one wondered what the future held.

Without doubt she was still opposed to marriage. She had spent the past ten-plus years of her life building defenses against it. Hadn't her mother told her, "Don't succumb, Alanna. You have too much to give. Develop yourself to your full potential. Don't end up this way...."

She grasped the shower control and twisted it until the water ran cold and sharp. The frigid battering was just punishment for thoughts of yielding to the autocracy of Alex Knight. If she married him she would be a Knight. Her mind conjured up the image of a docile society bride, sweetly accompanying her husband to dinner parties and openings and yachting meets and Labor Day barbecues. What would happen to Alanna Evans? Though poised and polished, she was not of that ilk. She had her own life ... and liked it that way.

With a muffled groan she turned off the shower. As she dabbed the moisture from her skin her thoughts turned to the phenomenal physical attraction she felt for Alex. It was mutual-and that made it all the more exciting, all the more dangerous. Where would it end?

"Don't be stupid, Alanna," she chided herself aloud. "You know perfectly well where it will end if you don't watch yourself." Her eye moved to the bathroom door. For a moment of reckless imagining she wondered what it would have been like had Alex made love to her here. She pictured his limbs, long and tanned, his hips, narrow and strong. When a tingling erupted in her middle she fought the image, but it persisted. In all the years during which she'd built her career she'd never been attracted to a man this way-and there had been plenty, plenty, of men to choose from had she wished. Why Alex? Why now? Why here?

Cautiously, she opened the door, saw that her room was empty and held a towel against herself as she retrieved her nightgown from her bag and slid it over her head. That done she brushed her hair with a fierceness born of frustration, then settled down to tackle the questionnaires and sleep log she had neglected the night before. By eleven-thirty she was asleep.

By two-fifteen, however, she was awake. The room was dark and quiet. She lay on her side, one hand tucked under her pillow, the other comfortably before her on the bed. The pale sliver of light which crept beneath her door was the only source of illumination. It took several moments for her to awaken enough to move, then stretch, then gradually make out shapes in the darkness. She sat up with a gasp.

"It's all right, love." Alex rose in one fluid motion and crossed to her bed from the chair in which he had been sitting. "It's only me."

"How long have you been here?" she whispered, her perceptions still hazy.

"I'd guess for about half an hour."

"If Sylvia knew..." All grogginess had vanished.

"Forget Sylvia." He lifted the covers and slid in beside her before she could anticipate him. "I'm tired, but I can't sleep. Just let me lie here for a while."

It was the sound of true fatigue, the innocent need in his voice, that Alanna found most irresistible. With tentative obedience she let him pull her back against him, curving her body to the firm lines of his. His arm fell across her waist, anchoring her in place.

"Don't you think we're playing with fire, Alex?" she whispered.

"I know we are. But we have no choice. It's either this-or freeze."

His analogy was not quite apt, but she let it go without a fuss. In truth, lying here with him like this was a treat! Then, feeling guilty, she thought back on what Ellen had told her, seeking some justification for this late-night rendezvous.

"What were you thinking when you woke up, Alex?"

"I don't know," he snapped in odd annoyance, then calmed quickly. "I just woke up."

"Right after you did, what kept you awake? Normal people simply fall back to sleep once they awaken. We don't. Ellen suggested trying to pinpoint what type of thoughts keep us awake."

"Don't ask."

"I am asking." When he remained silent she tried a different approach, one that appealed to the sense of challenge they shared. "You said you loved me, Alex. If that's true you should feel free to share your thoughts with me. Do you love me-or are those simply three empty words?"

She felt his body tense behind her, then relax once more. "You play a mean game, Alanna."

"What were you thinking?" she persisted. "If I'm supposed to help you and in the process help myself, as Ellen suggested, we have to talk."

He pondered her words, stirring for a moment to draw her even closer. "You really want to know?"

"Yes!"

He inhaled deeply of the scented jasmine in her hair, rubbing his cheek against its silken flow before speaking. "I had a dream. It's the same one, over and over and over again, but I can never remember it after I wake. The feeling is always the same though, the feeling it leaves me with."

"What kind of feeling?"

"Emptiness. A pervading sense of emptiness."

Alanna suppressed a shudder. "Is that what kept you awake when you woke up tonight?"

"No." He seemed to hug her more tightly. "This time, when I woke up I thought of you."

"Alex..." she warned in a whisper, but he overrode her objection.

"You asked. You'll listen. I thought of you. I pictured you standing in the bathroom the way you were earlier. Your skin, pale and satiny. Your breasts, ripe and full. Your hips, slim and ... so very ready for me-"

"Alex! No wonder you can't fall asleep! Why do you torment yourself over something you can't finish?"

Somehow Alex sensed her own torment. His voice was suddenly clearer. "Why do you say that?" When she had no ready answer he prodded, "Come on, Alanna. I may be reading between the lines-"

"You're not." She sighed, realizing that she'd fallen into a trap of her own making, one from which only the truth would free her. "I said that because it was the only thing that allowed me to fall asleep earlier. Men aren't the only ones with needs, you know."

"I thought you told me that you could do very well without me."

"I said," she corrected softly, "that I had no need for marriage, to you or anyone else."

"Haven't you ever considered it?"

"No."

"You've never fancied yourself in love since Harding?"

"I've learned the difference between 'fancying' and 'being.' No, I've never been ... either ... since Shep."

"But you do date."

"Once in a while."

"Who?"

"Who what?"

He tugged her closer in mock punishment. "Who do you date?"

Alanna shifted to peer up into his stern face. "Don't get yourself worked up, Alex. They're all just ... friends."

"All?"

"There aren't a whole lot. And I rarely date anyone more than once or twice."

"A policy?"

"No, it just turns out that way."

"Would I know any of your men?"

"They're not 'my men' and I doubt it. They're as far away from the business world as possible."

Alex resettled himself in the darkness, sliding one long leg through hers. "No risk of compromise?"

"None."

"Smart girl."

"Only half of me is smart," Alanna quipped, feeling surprisingly at ease. "The other is selfish. I have no desire to spend an evening out discussing business when I deal with it every hour of the day."

"What do you like to do?"