After placing the papers down, she rounded the corner of the desk and came up beside him. She placed a warm hand against his cheek. "I know you've lost a lot in your life. You're tough because you had to be. But if you continue to expect so little from people, that's exactly what you'll get in return."

"That's not what this is about."

"Isn't it? Your mother left you. Your ex-fiancee did the same. They both wanted something you couldn't give them. When they left, you were able to say, 'See, all women are alike'." She paused to catch her breath. "When you realized I wasn't running anywhere, you got so d.a.m.ned scared you had to push me away. You're afraid to trust that I mean what I say, so you come up with the excuse that I'm just like them-I don't love you, I love what you can give me."

In an effort to get what she wanted and remain with Alix, had Chelsie convinced herself she loved him, too? Knowing her as he did, the thought was absurd. And yet ...

He could never be sure. "Don't you?" The words escaped before he could stop them.

Her eyes opened wide. "No," she whispered.

The tears welling in the brown depths told him in no uncertain terms he'd pushed her too far. He'd hurt her in a fundamental way, and she deserved better. He reached out to her, but she stepped back to avoid his touch.

"I love Alix, and not just because she's my sister's child. I can't deny that and I wouldn't want to." She walked towards the door, head held high. "I trust this morning's hearing went well?"

All business. Perhaps that was just as well. Though her words stayed with him, he couldn't help wondering which one of them was suffering from delusions, Chelsie or himself. "Restraining order's right here," he said, patting his briefcase. "Jeff's being served as we speak." He met her gaze. "He'd be a fool to go near you now."

She nodded. "Anyway, I'll be out of town visiting my parents at the end of the week."

"Since when?"

"Like I told you. Family's important. I cleared my calendar and you don't need me." She cleared her throat, an obvious ruse to cover her shaken emotions. "I've got to set up appointments with those expert witnesses in the next few days."

He nodded. "The file is here." He pulled the folder from inside his briefcase.

She accepted it, careful to avoid his touch. He mentally acknowledged the pain, but refused to let it show. "I'll let you get to it, then. See you at dinner?"

She hesitated, staring at a point over his shoulder when she finally answered. "I have too much work to do if I want to leave Friday."

He recognized her excuse for what it was. "Fine." Considering he'd cut her loose, what else could he say?

TWELVE.

The humming of the machine as it copied and collated couldn't drum out the warm and tempting sounds from downstairs. A clatter of pots signaled dinner time, footsteps spoke of a home lived in and filled with love, and Alix's shrieks of laughter wouldn't be denied. Chelsie was forced to endure.

She tried to focus on the doc.u.ments spread out on her desk, but the words blurred, memories of times she'd been a part of the family unit downstairs taking their place. She imagined Griff s gruff voice, huskier after they'd made love; his touch on her skin in places that belonged to him alone; his welcoming and often seductive smile. Chelsie had experienced each for the last time. Even knowing she had antic.i.p.ated this back when Griff had proposed their partnership didn't make things bearable now.

A clatter, a thud, and the unmistakable sound of a child's cries rose towards her. Chelsie gripped the arms of her chair and jumped up from her seat before reminding herself that Griff was there. He was Alix's permanent guardian. Chelsie was a relative, a welcome guest in their home, but on a night like this, merely a partner who belonged upstairs ... or didn't belong at all. She tiptoed to the bottom of the stairs to a.s.sure herself both Griff and Alix were okay, then collected her doc.u.ments and headed for home. Changes were long overdue, Chelsie knew, and the time had come to make them.

Chelsie brought her suitcase with her to work on Friday. After an early meeting, she planned on taking a taxi to the airport. The morning was a disaster from the minute she awoke late because she'd forgotten to set her alarm clock for the right time.

She dressed in a hurry, wondering how she would survive the day. The beginning of the week had shown her how difficult life would be if she and Griff continued working together. They barely spoke. When they did, the strain from their personal lives insinuated itself into their partnership. Chelsie continued to depart from her previous routine of going downstairs for dinner. After her initial refusal on Monday, Griff hadn't asked again. She stopped working late at the office. As a result, her small living room now resembled a cluttered study.

She'd made a special effort to spend time with Alix while Griff was in court or working upstairs, but inevitably, dinner time came before she'd left for the day. The familiar sounds drifted upstairs, taunting her with what she'd almost had and lost. More than once, she wondered if Griff was right. Did she love what he could give her?

The answer was always the same. Yes. How could she not? Although she couldn't separate Griff and Alix, she felt certain she loved the man apart from the child. She loved his depth of caring, his ability to laugh, his skills as a lawyer. She loved arguing with him over a case and agreeing with him on strategy. She loved his ability to parent and adapt to any situation. Whether or not he had brought a child with him, Chelsie would have fallen hard.

But the fact remained that he had. That Alix shared her blood, too, didn't matter. Legally, the little girl lived with Griff. Until he believed he meant more to her than the package, he would never commit to an us. He would continue to wonder whether he could trust Chelsie's feelings. Though there was nothing she could do to change that, she didn't have to put herself through the pain.

An hour later, Chelsie shook hands with the man who had agreed to testify in an upcoming case and led him to the door. She glanced at her watch and realized she had fifteen minutes to spare before leaving for the airport. Drawing on all the reserve energy she had, she knocked once and entered Griff's office.

He sat behind his large mahogany desk, looking formidable and imposing.

"Morning," she said.

"How are you?"

"Fine." She wiped her palms on her skirt.

"About ready for your trip?"

She nodded. "May I?" She pointed to the couch.

When he nodded, she lowered herself onto a cushion and motioned for him to join her.

He did, seating himself beside her. His thigh brushed hers. The familiar smell of his cologne warmed her and she closed her eyes, allowing herself a brief journey into the recent past before she opened them again. "Things weren't all bad, were they?"

He shook his head. "After you got over the shock of agreeing to help out I'd have to say things went fairly well."

"Fairly?" She nudged him in the ribs with her elbow and he gave an obligatory grunt. "I was one heck of a baby-sitter."

He chuckled, letting her know he agreed. "What do you mean, were?" he asked, his voice sobering.

"This isn't going to work, is it?"

He sucked in a breath.

"Don't tell me you're shocked." She placed a hand over her heart, attempting to lighten the mood with humor. "You're the one who told me you wanted a temporary arrangement. Alix is doing great now. You should be proud."

"So should you."

She shook her head. "All she ever needed was you. I was just your safety net. You thought she needed me and that helped you get through the tough times. But you did it on your own." Her hand covered his and she tried to memorize its feel and texture. "You did your brother proud, too."

Chelsie swallowed a convulsive sob, determined to get through this without a scene. She'd have plenty of time on the plane and in Florida to cry her heart out. "We agreed to agree when to end this arrangement. I think the time has come. I'll make arrangements with Mrs. Baxter to see Alix during the day while you're up here."

Pain lurked in his eyes, but Chelsie couldn't help him. He'd have to find his way on his own.

"We're partners," he said.

"I think I mentioned what a stupid thing it is to mix business and pleasure, didn't I?" she asked with a fake smile.

His eyes clouded over and Chelsie knew that he, too, was recalling their times together, good and bad. She'd spent the week getting used to the idea, a.s.suring herself that parting company was the only solution. Though Griff could add her to the list of women in his life who had abandoned him, she had the distinction of being the only one who hadn't done so willingly. He wouldn't let her in.

"Pleasure, huh?" he finally asked.

"Oh, yeah. But you were there, so you must remember."

If only he could forget. So why couldn't he let the good times be enough?

She glanced at her watch. "It's time."

Griff knew she meant more than just catching a plane.

"We'll sort out the details when I get back, okay?"

He nodded, at a loss for words. How did you sort out two lives that had become one?

"Before I go, I'll teach you how to make coffee. You need that cup of decaf in the morning. You'll never survive on that mud your secretary makes. Left alone, you'll overdose on caffeine."

He brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. At least she hadn't pulled back this time. "Thanks for caring."

"You know I do." She rose from her seat. "No, maybe you don't," she murmured, shaking her head.

He let her statement pa.s.s.

"Have a good flight" And a good life.

"Thanks." Her voice was a mere whisper.

" 'Bye."

She leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. Knowing he was taking unfair advantage, he turned his face at the last moment so her lips met his. She sucked in a surprise breath before her lips parted, taking him inside. He drank in the taste of her, knowing that he'd never have her again.

When she lifted her head, tears shimmered in her eyes.

A car horn honked. She flashed him a brief smile, one he couldn't return. She turned and walked out.

He stood at the window and watched her get into the waiting cab. She'd be back in three days and out of his life on the fourth. He had only himself to blame. Somehow, the knowledge made things worse.

The phone rang during Sunday morning's breakfast. Griff dove for the receiver, lifting it on the first ring. "Chelsie?"

"Wrong answer."

"Ryan. I'll talk when you get here." In no mood to deal with his friend, Griff hung up. Three days had pa.s.sed in which he hadn't heard from Chelsie. He hadn't expected to, but he had hoped. Considering he didn't know what he'd say to her should she decide to call, he ought to be grateful for her distance. He wasn't.

He sat back down at the table.

"Pancakes?" Mrs. Baxter asked.

With a shake of his head, he declined. "Just coffee. After this endless weekend, I could use some."

The older woman smiled and handed him a cup. "Decaf." Her eyes twinkled with delight. "Miss Russell said to make sure you stayed away from the hard stuff."

If she didn't intend to stick around, why the h.e.l.l did Miss Russell care what he drank? Rationally, he realized his anger at Chelsie made little sense. He'd driven her away and caused her to break up the partnership. This morning, however, he wasn't feeling particularly rational.

Alix was in a rotten mood. The little girl whined, cried, and acted out in every way imaginable. She hadn't stopped asking for Chelsie. For Mommy, he silently amended. The word had been on the child's lips morning, noon, and night. And Griff knew without question that this time she wasn't referring to Shannon. Alix wanted Chelsie. And she wasn't the only one. After an entire weekend without a break, Griff's nerves were shot. He needed some peace and quiet.

"Milk," Alix said, pointing to a plastic cup on the counter. He handed her the cup, which Alix immediately knocked over. Milk spilled over the high chair onto the floor and splattered on his jeans and shirt. Frustrated, he opened his mouth to yell, but Alix beat him to it screaming at the top of her lungs.

"I'll handle it. Go for a walk. Take a break or something," Mrs. Baxter said. "You haven't let me earn my keep the entire weekend. Whatever you're running from, it's bound to catch up with you sometime. Why not deal with it now?"

Griff left the room without a word. Now his housekeeper was offering unsolicited advice. What next?

Ryan caught up with him on the driveway. "Excuse me for stating the obvious, but you look like h.e.l.l."

"Thanks, Ryan. It's always a pleasure. How'd you get here so fast?"

He patted his jacket pocket. "Cellular. Squirt's been tough?"

"Life's been tougher."

"And I'm sorry for my part in it."

Griff shrugged.

Ryan leaned against the car and squinted against the bright rays of the sun. "You're one pathetic b.a.s.t.a.r.d, you know that?"

"Yeah. But you know what they say. It takes one to know one."

"True." He straightened, leaning toward Griff. "What's that on your shirt?"

"Milk," Griff answered without glancing down. The wet spots had already seeped through to his skin. He'd have to change before the odor of dried milk became offensive.

Ryan nodded. "What do you think Deidre would do if she saw you looking like this?"

"I think she'd take the first cab-make that limo-back to her ritzy apartment and shower, just in case the smell interfered with her perfume." Despite himself, Griff couldn't suppress a grin and a full-blown laugh.

"I guess it's a good thing she dumped you."

For the first time, Griff agreed. "True."

"So I guess the next woman's got to love kids."

His laughter suffered a sudden death. "Cut the pop psychology." Telling Ryan about his breakup with Chelsie had been a mistake. After a few beers, Griff had let Ryan pump him for information, forgetting that he'd regret his revelations the next day.

"What the h.e.l.l is it with you? The first one doesn't like kids and the second one loves 'em. Neither can win."

"Don't compare Chelsie to Deidre," Griff said, taking offense at how his friend had lumped Chelsie with the most selfish woman he'd met. Next to his mother, of course.