Oh, my God! She's going to think about it!

"Where'll you be staying tonight?" she asked.

Wow!

"I'm not sure. Probably the Welcome Inn, if they have a vacancy."

"You haven't checked in yet?"

"No. I was planning to go over and register after lunch."

"Where'd you stay last night?" she asked.

"Fisherman's Wharf."

"Oh, that's right. You'd already told me that."

"Yeah."

"You sure you wern't here last night? I I thought I saw you."

Smiling, he shook his head. "I wish I'd been here, that's for sure. But I was with good old Monica having one of the most miserable times of my life."

Dana patted his back and said, "Maybe tonight'll be better."

She touched me!

Her hand had gone away, but Owen could still feel warmth where it had patted him.

Side by side, they climbed the porch stairs. Owen opened the door for Dana and they entered Beast House. Clyde was busy talking to someone. Several tourists were coming down the stairway, so Owen dropped back and let Dana go first.

He climbed the stairs behind her.

Staring at the backs of her legs, at the way her shorts slid against the curves of her buttocks.

She might go out with me.

She'll think about it.

My God!

Following Dana up the stairs, he suddenly knew for sure that leaving Monica was the best thing he'd ever done.

Chapter Thirty-one.

SANDY'S STORY-July, 1992 Sandy couldn't see the intruder.

Then he stood up, rising into plain sight behind a boulder. The boulder, his hiding place, was only a couple of yards to the left of where Sandy had been gazing while she posed.

The moment she spotted him, she felt a hot flush of embarrassment. This wasn't the first time someone had interrupted a session. This time, at least she wasn't entirely nude. Trying not to appear flustered, she simply lifted her left hand and cupped her bare breast.

"Sorry to bother you like this," the young man called, and started working his way down toward the beach.

"No bother," Blaze said, smiling and friendly.

And no wonder. After all, Blaze wasn't the one standing around half naked. And Blaze was gay and the intruder was incredibly handsome and bare-chested with a nice tan and sleek muscles and low, faded shorts.

He came leaping down from the rocks and landed on the sand.

"I didn't mean to intrude," he explained, frowning and shaking his head. "I didn't know you were down here. Not at first, anyway. I was just climbing round." Twisting sideways, he gestured toward the high pile of rocks. "No reason." He smiled at Blaze, then met Sandy's eyes and said, "Once I got a look at you, I couldn't leave."

"Well, you've had your look, so..."

"My name's Terry."

"Well, don't tarry on my account."

He smiled slightly and shrugged. "I take it you'd like me to leave."

"We're sort of busy here."

"I know. I'm sorry." He glanced at the hand clasped to Sandy's breast, then met her eyes. "You aren't going to tell me your name?"

"I only give it out on a 'need to know' basis."

He smiled. He had a great smile, full of white teeth and sincerity. "That ought to include me. I really need to know."

"Maybe some other time," she told him.

"I'll look forward..."

"I'm Blaze," Blaze proclaimed. "Blaze O. Glory."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Glory."

"Oh, do call me Blaze."

"Blaze." Terry smiled once more at Sandy, then turned away from her and walked toward Blaze. "May I take a peek at the painting?"

"Certainly." Blaze stepped back.

"Hey!" Sandy blurted. "No! If he wants to see it, let him go to the gallery."

"Oh, don't be a spoilsport," Blaze told her.

Abruptly, Terry turned away, avoiding a look at the canvas.

"I'll wait till it's in the gallery," he said.

"Oh, pay no attention to her."

"That's fine. Sorry I interrupted." Striding toward the bottom of the trail, he glanced back at Sandy and called out, "So long. Maybe I'll see you around sometime."

"Good-bye," Sandy called to him.

She and Blaze both watched as he made his way up the trail.

"What a delightful fellow," Blaze said.

"A real charmer," Sandy said.

"And stunning."

"He's all yours."

"No, I'm afraid not. My dear, he's yours for the asking. He was absolutly smitten."

"Aren't they all."

"Well...I won't push. I know you've had several dreadful experiences. Men can be such thoughtless thugs. But some are wonderful. Some would never dream of attacking you or beating you or...or abandoning you."

"I know that. I know it. The trouble is, you can't tell one from the other. Not till it's too late."

"Fini!" Blaze proclaimed.

Sandy, stiff and hot, muttered, "Finally." She looked all around to make sure there were no intruders, then peeled off her dress and tossed it onto the beach. She turned around. After stretching, she waded farther out, dived into an oncoming wave, and swam for a while.

Ashore, she dried herself on a towel from Blaze's backpack. He'd also brought her a pair of shorts and a flower-print shirt to wear for the picnic and the ride back to his house.

Sitting on a beach towel, they sipped Champagne and nibbled on crackers, hard Italian salami and a tangy, sharp cheddar cheese.

"You're how old, now?" Blaze asked.

He knew her age. Though she'd given Blaze a lot of false information about herself, she'd never lied to him about her age.

"I can see where this is going," she said.

"I'm not saying Terry is the one. But really, you need to give someone a try."

"No, I don't."

"Not all men are beasts."

"You're okay."

"And what about your son? Is he a beast?"

Sandy laughed and shook her head. "No, of course not."

"So, you see? That makes two of us who aren't horrors. Granted, I'm as queer as the day is long. Still, I am a man."

"Sort of."

"Bitch."

"So, basically, you think I should start going out with guys?"

"Couldn't hurt."

"Could hurt."

"But it's worth the risk. Let me tell you, my dear. I'm one who knows. The greatest hurt of all is loneliness."

"I'm not lonely."

"Oh, you are. You're desperately lonely."

"Am not."

"You're just too tough to admit it."

Back at Blaze's house, Sandy took a shower and got dressed in her old clothes.

She found Blaze waiting for her in the foyer. "These're yours," he said, and gave her the new shorts and shirt in a shopping bag. "I'm sorry we were obliged to ruin that marvelous dress."

Sandy smiled. "Sorry, but not very. You knew what you'd be doing to it."

"Nonsense."

"Then why'd you bring the spare clothes?"

"Ah! True! Well."

"It's all right. I expect you to ruin the outfits. You only do it about two-thirds of the time."

Blaze laughed. "Can't help myself."

"I sometimes wonder if you're as gay as you pretend to be."

"If I weren't, my dear, I would've ravished your gorgeous body eons ago. I'd be doing it on every possible occasion."