The room was dark; no sound came from within. A slice of light from the hall angled across the bed and she opened the door further. There was still no sound. Yet there was a definite human shape on the bed, in the bed. Her gaze followed the outline of his body from his feet up, crossing the line where blanket ended and skin began, continuing over his chest to his face.

One long arm was thrown across his eyes, yet his voice was clear. "Aren't you going to come in?"

Caught in the act, Alanna was not sure just what to do. While one part of her wanted simply to excuse herself and run, the other was still curious as to why, given his previous attentiveness, Alex had avoided her tonight. The latter impulse won. Slipping through the doorway, she closed the door behind her and hesitantly approached the bed.

"Well?" He sounded neither pleased nor angry, simply tired.

"I just wondered whether you got in all right. I didn't see you earlier."

"It was late; I arrived a little while ago. I thought you might be asleep and I didn't want to wake you."

"You don't need to explain...." she began, feeling guilty at having disturbed him, still wondering whether she should leave at once. As he had in the past, he read her mind.

"Come sit with me, Alanna," he offered in soft invitation. "I could use the company." His arm lifted from his eyes; his hand patted the bed beside him. Without a second thought she found herself there, concerned at his state of fatigue.

"Was it such a bad day?" she asked in a whisper.

The light from beneath the door was too dim to allow him to make out her features; rather, his fingers traced the lines of her face in greeting. "Everything went well in New York, if that's what you mean."

"What happened afterward?"

"Just a small family matter. You know how that kind of thing can eat at you."

"I don't," she contradicted him gently. "I have no family. You're the one who is privileged..."

His fingers touched her lips. "I sometimes wonder." When his other hand met the first to cup her face and bring it down toward his she put a hand on his chest for support and eagerly met his kiss. His lips were gentle, tired yet sweet; he seemed to take his strength from her, gaining vibrancy with each moist taste.

It was as though Alanna had waited for this all day. Any anger she had felt earlier simply dissolved. There was only Alex and his warm, strong body. When his kiss ended with a light touch to her nose she moved on impulse to join him in bed, much as he had done earlier. With feline grace she stretched out beside him, finding a comfortable niche for her head on his shoulder, her legs falling easily by and between his. When her hand slid to his waist and hip, however, she jumped and made to retreat. Only his arm held her still.

Her whisper was hoarse with dismay. "Alex! You've got nothing on!"

"I always sleep this way," he countered with nonchalance.

"But this is a hospital-"

"And Ellen said to sleep in whatever we were accustomed to. I'm doing just that!"

"I don't know." Her wariness persisted. "Maybe I should go back to my own bed."

"Don't you dare. I like you right here," his hand curved to her hip, "by my side."

She was more than by his side. She was practically molded to him; their bodies fit that closely together. Desperate to break the aura of sensuality, Alanna cleared her throat and tipped her head back to study his dimly lit features. "What's the problem in your family? Anything you'd like to discuss?"

Just as this morning she had wondered whether he would freely share information regarding his work, so now she wondered just how much he would trust her with something so personal. As earlier, she was warmed by his open and honest response.

"It's my father. He's having some trouble adjusting to retirement."

"How old is he?"

"Sixty-three. He turned the company over to me four years ago, shortly before his sixtieth birthday."

"What has he been doing since then?"

"He and my mother travel a lot, visiting their various grandchildren. They've also taken several extended trips-the most recent one to China.

"But your father isn't comfortable?"

"He's torn. He firmly believes that I should hold the reins of the foundation, yet he can't quite let go completely. It can be ... very difficult...."

"In what way?"

"Second-guessing. Backseat driving. Monday morning quarterbacking. Should I go on?"

Alanna smiled against his chest, absently rubbing her cheek against the fine hazing of hair there. "I think I understand. Why don't you put him to work?"

"That's what I've suggested."

"Well ... what's the problem?"

"The problem, love, is his determination to be retired. It's either all or nothing with him. He can't see things quite as clearly as we do and therefore can't see that he's already got several fingers irrevocably in the pie."

"Can't you give him his own division? Something that really needs his expertise and experience behind it?"

Alex was quiet for several moments. "You phrase it very well, Alanna. From me, it sounds like a consolation prize. From you, it's an opportunity that demands skill." Again he was silent, pensive, and she was satisfied merely to listen to the steady thump of his heart. His arm tightened around her before he spoke again. "I'll have to remember that-'his expertise and experience.' That might convince him. Better still," he angled his head down toward her face, "you'll come and have dinner with us one night. You can tell him to his face exactly how much the company needs him."

"Oh, no, I won't, Alex Knight. He's your father."

"You'd like him-and my mother," he crooned invitingly.

But Alanna was determined to stay clear of that powerful trap and refused to even consider the question with any degree of seriousness. "I'm sure I would," she quipped lightly. "But it would be totally impertinent of me to walk in and tell your father what to do. I'm no Knight-"

"-not yet."

"Alex...!" Her protest was silenced by the lips which captured hers in their sensual net. Suddenly protest was nonexistent. In a moment of accumulated desire-desire built up through an evening of worry and brought to a head by their present intimacy-Alanna was transported to a world encompassing only Alexander Knight.

In the delirium of his kiss she was a Knight, with every right to the luxuries he offered. His lips drank in her goodness in turn; his tongue set off explosive charges deep within her mouth. His legs moved against hers with electrifying friction, binding her to his body. He was fit and solid beside her, beneath her.

"Alex!" She tried again, gasping against his cheek. "This has to stop!" Even her whisper was hoarse.

"Why?" He smoothed her hair from her face and held it back with both hands.

"It's ... dangerous. You know where we are...."

A faint flicker of white broke through the darkness when he grinned. "We're in bed."

"We're in a hospital room!" she countered, trying desperately to ignore the span of lean stomach spread beneath her palm. When she tried to push against it and lever herself away Alex held her closer. His hands slid down, one to her back, one to her hips, to press her more fully against him. Her protest was aimed as much at herself as it was at him. "I'd better leave, Alex. This is getting out of hand."

"To the contrary." He squeezed her gently. "It's very well in hand."

"Alex! This is absurd-"

"And lovely." He moved ever so slightly against her, sending ripples of excitement tingling through her extremities.

"Oh..." she exhaled, feeling herself losing touch with reality. "Why do you do this to me?"

"We're made for each other, love. Don't you see that? Why must you fight it so?" His hands held her and molded her, doing wicked things in utter innocence.

"I don't know," she murmured, closing her eyes as his lips planted light, dreamy kisses all over her face. "I don't know." The pleasure was exquisite. What was there to fight?

"Let yourself go. Trust me. Let me pleasure you."

With a soft moan of surrender she turned her mouth to his and welcomed the full force of his kiss as it spread the flame of desire to every last pocket of her resistance. Her immediate future was in his hands, yet he worshipped her as though she held the reins.

Alanna's body was aflame, Alex's was its fuel. Her survival seemingly depended on him and she arched toward him eagerly. The feel of his body intoxicated her. She combed her hands across his chest, exploring its every sinew. Its manly hardness pleasured her fingertips beyond description, luring her palms hungrily over him. At her touch he sucked in the taut muscles of his stomach, offering a lean plane for her hands to glide across.

His deft fingers released the tie of her robe, slipped it from her slender shoulders and pulled it from beneath her. As she lay on her back he hovered over her, balancing himself on one elbow, visually caressing her. She caught her breath when his fingers slid the strap of her nightgown from her shoulder, pulling it down enough to free a swollen breast from its silken confines. Within seconds his mouth had encompassed a rosy nipple, gently sucking, sending passion racing through the warmest depths of her body. She cried aloud at the feeling, then cried again when his tongue and teeth played at her nipple, toying it into a hard, dark peak.

Alanna was swept up in a torrent of desire. She was utterly lost in his kiss and the yearning to return its intensity. In a fleeting moment of recollection she knew where she was, but it no longer mattered. All that mattered was Alex and what he was doing to her, what they were about to do together. It seemed the highest point of her life, that moment for which she had waited long, long years alone, compensating for that aloneness with her work.

Again her hands sought him out. He gasped when she touched him, then pulled her over onto him and reached for her face. He kissed her thoroughly, savoring her mouth, adoring its welcome. His hands moved to her shoulders, skimmed the length of her arms, found her hips and slowly drew the soft fabric of her gown up to her waist.

Consumed from within by a burning need, Alanna strained toward him. She wanted him-oh, how she wanted him. Yet she was frightened. It had been so long since she had opened herself to a man. The heat of Alex's body spoke of his own raging fire. He encouraged her with the proof of her power over him. Her breasts brushed electrically against his chest when she bent forward to seek his strength.

"Alex..."

"Shhh." He kissed her again, drugging her to near-mindlessness.

"But Alex..." The last shred of reason found timid voice. "Here?"

"I need you, love," he rasped urgently. "I need you now." His hands reached for her, but she resisted for a last, frantic moment.

"I'm frightened," she whispered. "I want to please you...."

Her words brought a deep groan of desire from his throat. In one lithe move he rolled her beneath him, pausing only long enough to slip her gown over her head, then feel her nakedness with his restless palms. "You please me already, Alanna. Be mine. I do love you."

At that heady declaration Alanna released any threads of caution. Words became a thing of the past, yielding to a kiss that worked its way over her body, finding tiny pockets of sensuality and bringing them to life. His fingers worked a magic of their own, tuning her to him until she had no separate identity. He led her high with his touch to a peak of clamoring need.

The moment was imminent. Alanna's breath hung in her throat, to be released in a soft, sweet cry when she was at long last complete. Alex had made her so. He must have felt it, too, for he clasped her to him, crushing her breasts against the warm wall of his chest for a long, still time of quiet pleasure.

Then, between murmured heart-words and avid cries of ecstasy, he made love to her. Slowly, at first, he set the rhythm, drawing her into it faster and with rising hunger. Alanna floated in a world of passion and promise. Her body throbbed with desire in the growing need for fulfillment. Willingly, she let Alex stoke her fires, returning the heat, hotter and hotter until, at last, clutching him, she felt his explosion and knew of her own.

It was a honeyed warmth that spread through her to him and back as they lay, locked tightly together, savoring the last moments of rapture. Alanna felt fulfilled in a way she had never felt before. Her breathlessness echoed his, but gradually slowed as time put its inevitable wedge between glory and reality.

What came over Alanna then, she would never know. With the speed of lightning, her life passed before her, its kaleidoscopic frames suddenly encapsulated in one moment that held more meaning than all the rest.

Helplessly, she began to cry. Tears streamed down her cheeks to dampen his chest as he slid to her side and shifted her in his arms.

"What is it, love?" he whispered, stroking her hair back from her face. "Did I hurt you?"

She could only shake her head against him, choked by the silent sobs that racked her body. Alex's love had released the emotional flood that had been dammed for years, years in which she had neither cried nor sought refuge in arms such as these that now held her so very tenderly.

He let her cry, sensing her need to express feelings so long bottled up. Cradling her gently, he rocked her until the inner storm exhausted itself. Then, his body protectively curved to hers, he pulled the covers over them.

They could have been in their own private bungalow on a deserted stretch of beach in the bright warmth of the Caribbean, honeymooning with abandon, so deep was the relaxation Alanna felt when the silence of the cool northern night enveloped them. In Alex's arms, content and fulfilled, she fell into a deep sleep. Within moments he had followed her. When they awoke it was morning and their bodies were still entwined. To their instant delight was added a note of astonishment: Sated by love and held by each other, they had slept, undisturbed and at peace, through the night.

6.

Ellen Henderson was neither delighted nor undisturbed, and peaceful was the last word to describe her expression when she summoned them both to her office early that evening. Alanna took a seat by the desk; Alex perched on the edge of a low file cabinet.

"How could you, Alex?" the psychologist burst out as soon as the door was closed. "This is a hospital, for heaven's sake!"

Alanna had already spent most of her day pondering the matter. Neither guilt nor regret had a place among the many emotions she felt. She was confused, perhaps, as to where the future would lead. She was certainly overwhelmed by the effect this one man had on her. She was even a bit frightened of the force of her own response. But she was also pleased and satisfied, strangely at ease with the knowledge of what had occurred so spontaneously last night.

Alex, to whom Ellen seemed content to direct her initial tirade, was likewise free of guilt. He was downright unremorseful. "I'm well aware of what this institution is, Ellen," he answered her smoothly. "But worse things than love have happened at hospitals."

"I'm not talking about love and you know it. I'm talking about lovemaking. I would have expected a bit more propriety from you, of all people."

Still Alex was totally in control. "Come off it, Ellen. I'm human. I told you I loved her. Don't be a prude."

Ellen bristled. "Tell that to the poor little nurse who walked in on you two this morning. She was not terribly pleased."

Alanna looked down and pressed a fist against her mouth, yet her soft laugh could not be entirely muffled. Guilty only at finding humor in what so clearly disturbed Ellen, she shot a helpless glance at Alex. His expression mirrored hers, though he managed to refrain from an open show of amusement.

"Poor girl. Did we shock her that much? You know, Ellen, you really should teach your nurses the facts of life."

"Alex..." Ellen warned him softly, yet there was an easing of her tension. Now her gaze shifted to include Alanna. "What am I going to do with you?" She threw her hands up in exasperation, then joined Alanna and Alex in spontaneous laughter. "You know, if I weren't a happily married woman myself I'd probably be jealous of you, Alanna."

For the first time Alanna spoke. "I didn't realize you were married. You don't wear a ring-"

"-or use my husband's name or call myself Mrs. It may be a modern marriage, but it's worked well for the last seven years, so it's got to have something going for it."

"What does he do-your husband?" Alanna asked, fascinated that a woman with such heavy career demands could successfully manipulate the mechanics of a marriage.

"He's an anesthesiologist here at the hospital. We coordinate our schedules very comfortably."

"How is Sandy? I haven't seen him in a long time," Alex asked, obviously as familiar with her husband as he was with Ellen. Alanna turned her attention to his dark, casually posed figure as he proceeded to chat easily with Ellen for several moments.

Despite her outward attentiveness, Alanna's mind wandered helplessly. What had last night meant? She felt different, somehow, yet her body was certainly unaltered. It was all within-this difference. In the process of his lovemaking Alex had broken down her defenses. He had breached her emotional guard. She was suddenly unsure of the future, of what she wanted from her life. And she was acutely aware of things she'd never known. Only Alex's presence had made her see her past as one of loneliness. Only his love had rendered all else empty. Where was she to go now?

"The way I see it," Ellen's evaluation broke into her thoughts, drawing her startled gaze, "we have two options, neither of which is totally satisfactory. First, you could continue as part of the IAT study, with strict promises," she looked sharply from one to the other, "to keep your hands off one another. Even if you agreed, I'd be compromising the project by adding a tension that wasn't there before. The second possibility," she sighed, "is for you both to drop out. I have others I can put in in your place."

"What if we got married?" It was Alex's deep voice that posed a third possibility.