aThis?a he said, indicating his scar with his free hand. aI have very little memory of just what occurred. It was at the Battle of Waterloo, of course. I was with the infantry. We were in square, holding a cavalry charge at bay. But it was very frightening for some of the younger boysa"and for all of us, I supposea"to see cavalry charging at us and to have only bayonets and the other men forming the square as a defense. It is a good defense, almost impregnable, in fact, but it does not feel safe. A few of our men panicked and turned away together. I leapt forward to try to hearten them and make sure that the square was not broken, and got caught on the face by a bayonet.a Fleur grimaced.

aNot even an enemyas,a he said, smiling. aIronic, is it not? I believe I can recall the sharp pain and my hand coming away all red from my face. That is the last I remember. A shell must have hit at that moment and caused the other wounds.a aYou were almost a year recovering,a she said. aYou must have suffered a great deal.a aI believe so,a he said. aMercifully, I seem to have been somewhat out of my head during the worst of it. It was hard, though, to adjust my mind to the knowledge that I would carry around the visible effects of what happened for the rest of my life.a aThe wounds still hurt sometimes?a she said.

aNot often.a He smiled at her again.

aI have seen you limping,a she said.

aWhen I am tired or under some stress,a he said. aThat is when Sidney, my man, plays tyrant and orders me to submit myself to a massage. He has a most impertinent tongue and magic hands.a She smiled at him. aWhy did you go?a she asked. aIf you were a duke, it would have been most unusual for you to be a part of the army, especially as an infantry officer. Did you not have a happy childhood?a aQuite the contrary,a he said. aI was privileged and happy and sheltered. No human being is entitled to enjoy such a life without paying back a little. There were thousands of men fighting for our country who really owed it almost nothing except their birth. And yet to them it was worth fighting for. The least I could do was fight alongside them.a aTell me about your childhood,a she said.

He smiled. aThat is a large question,a he said. aDo you want to hear about what a good little boy I was or about what a rogue I could be? Unfortunately, I sometimes drove my father to distraction. And the footmen. One poor fellow who lived in terror of ghosts and devils found two in the grand hall. Two named Adam and Thomas, who inhabited the gallery and made strange noises when he was on duty during the evenings. They haunted him for three whole weeks before they were finally caught. I can still feel the walloping I had for that. I believe I had to lie facedown on my bed for at least a couple of hours afterward.a She laughed.

aIt was a wonderful childhood,a he said. aWe were Greek gods among the temples and Vikings on the lake and bear hunters by the cascades. Our father used to spend a great deal of time with us, teaching us to fish and to shoot and ride. My stepmother taught me how to play the pianoforte, though I do not have your talent. And she taught us to dance. There was always a great deal of laughter during those lessons. She used to accuse us both of having two left feet.a aAnd yet you dance so well now,a Fleur said.

aI wish Pamelaas childhood could be as happy,a he said. aI wish there could have been other children. I always wanted a large family.a He realized what he had said when she looked inquiringly at him.

aI will devote myself to her happiness when I go home,a he said. aIall stay with her. Iall not leave her again.a He closed his eyes and braced one booted foot against the seat opposite. It was late afternoon. The drowsy hour.

He had never voiced that dream beforea"the dream of sons of his own, and daughters too, running free at Willoughby, their shouts and laughter bringing the place alive again. It was not fair to Pamela that she be so alone.

His children and Fleuras. They would take them riding and picnicking and boating. And fishing too. He would teach Fleur to fish. And she would teach the children to play the pianoforte, and herself play for their entertainment some evenings. And together they would teach their children to dance. They would teach them to waltz.

And he would love her by night. He would sleep with her all night and every night in the large canopied bed that had been his fatheras before him and that had never held a woman since his fatheras death. And he would fill her with his seed. He would watch her grow with his children. And he would watch those children being born and watch her giving birth to them.

He had paid his dues for a life of incredible privilege and for a childhood of wonderful security. He would be happy again and happy forever. He would open the oyster shell and find the pearl within.

He opened his eyes and became aware of his surroundings when her head touched his shoulder. She was breathing deeply and evenly. He turned his head very slowly so as not to wake her and rested his cheek against her soft curls. And he breathed in the scent of her. Their hands were still clasped together.

He closed his eyes again.

WROXFORD WAS NOT QUITE a town. It was a large village. Darkness had begun to fall when they arrived there, and the churchyard was quite large. It was altogether possible that they had just missed finding the correct tombstone in the half-light, the Duke of Ridgeway reassured her after they had searched without success. Or perhaps there was no tombstone yet. They should ask at the vicarage.

But the vicar was from home, at the bedside of a sick parishioner, his wife explained. She had no knowledge of such a grave. There were Hobsons in the churchyard, yes, but the last to be buried there must be old Bessie Hobson, all of seven or eight years before. Certainly there had been none buried there in the past six months. There had been only one funeral in that time, and that had certainly not been a Hobson.

aThis man was valet to Lord Brocklehurst of Heron House,a the duke explained. aHis father was a butcher here at one time, I understand.a The vicaras wife nodded. aThat would be Mr. Maurice Hobson, sir,a she said. aHe lives on the hill now.a She pointed to the east. aA redbrick house, sir, with roses in the front garden.a aHow strange,a Fleur said as they turned away, the vicaras wife standing politely on the doorstep to see them on their way. aMollie was quite sure it was Wroxford, and it seems to be the right place. His father does live here. But he was not buried here? I must speak with Mr. Hobson. It is not too late, is it?a aIam afraid so,a he said. aWe will put up at the inn for tonight and I will call on Mr. Hobson in the morning. Alone, Fleur. I donat think it advisable for you to meet him.a aBut I cannot expect you to do that for me,a she said.

aI will do it nevertheless,a he said, handing her back into his carriage. aAnd for tonight you are Miss Kent, my sister.a aYes,a she said. aThank you. But what can it mean? Matthew did not have Daniel bury Hobson because he wanted to bring him home. But this is home, and the burial was not here.a aI am sure there is a perfectly good explanation,a he said, taking her hand in his again. aI shall discover what it is tomorrow. Are you hungry? And donat say no. I am, and I hate eating alone.a aA little,a she said. She smiled quickly at him. aOh, not very. But what can be the meaning of it? Have we come all this way for nothing? Is this business never to have an ending?a aTomorrow,a he said. aFor the rest of this evening you are going to sit and watch me eat, and eat a little yourself, and tell me all about your early childhood. I entertained you this afternoon before we both fell asleep. Now it is your turn.a aThere is not much to tell,a she said. aMy parents died when I was eight. I cannot remember a great deal.a aMore than you think, I will wager,a he said. aHere we are. I hope this inn offers somewhat better accommodation than the one in your village. And better food too.a They were given small rooms next to each other. There was nothing fancy about either one, but the inn did boast a private parlor, which the duke engaged for the evening. There were about a dozen men in the public taproom.

She should feel embarrassed, Fleur thought. She was alone during the darkness of the evening with the Duke of Ridgeway. They were to sleep in adjoining rooms in a village inn. They had been alone together all day, their hands clasped for most of the time. And she had woken up at some time late in the afternoon with her head on his shoulder.

She had removed it carefully, hoping that he was asleep too and would not know. But he had been quietly looking out of the window. Her hand had still been in his. And he had turned his head to smile at her. She had smiled back a little shamefaced but not nearly as confused as she might have expected to be.

It was almost as if, she thought, when they had left Heron House they had also left behind them the world and normal life and normal propriety. Almost as if they had made a tacit and mutual agreement to live these two days as if they were the only two days left in life.

And in a way they were. By the next night they would be back at Heron House. The morning after, he would leave and she would never see or hear from him again.

Two days seemed very little time.

No, there was no time for embarrassment or awkwardness between them. There was only the rest of that evening and the next day.

They sat a long time over their dinner. And she discovered that he had been quite right. When she started talking about her childhood, she found that she remembered incidents and feelings she had not thought of for years.

aI suppose,a she said at last, athat I should be thankful for those eight years. Many children do not have even that long a time of love and security. I have been in the habit of thinking that I had a rather hard lot. It does me good to remember.a aFleur,a he said, his dark eyes smiling at her, ayou have had a hard lot. But you are a strong person, a survivor. I hope that one day you will find a happiness you have never even dreamed possible.a aI will settle for contentment,a she said. And she told him her plans.

aThe children will be fortunate,a he said. aI know you are a good teacher and care for children, Fleur. And I would guess that Miss Booth is well-liked too. And what about the Reverened Daniel Booth?a aWhat about him?a she asked warily.

aYou were to marry him,a he said. aYou loved him, didnat you?a aI thought I did,a she said. aHe was kind to me at a time when I did not know much kindness. And he is a handsome man.a aYou donat love him now?a he asked.

aI think he is too good for me,a she said. aHe can see a clear distinction between right and wrong, and he will stick by what he believes to be right no matter what. I can see too many shades of gray. I would not make a good clergymanas wife.a aHas he asked you again?a aYes,a she said. aI said no.a She hesitated. aI told him everything. Except your name.a aYes,a he said, ayou would tell him. And he did not repeat his offer?a aI had already refused,a she said.

aHe cannot love you, Fleur,a he said. aHe is not worthy of you. If I were in his place, I would fight for the rest of a lifetime to get you to change your mind. And I would honor you the more for your courage and your honesty.a She repositioned the spoon in her saucer. aA clergyman is not worthy of a whore?a she said. aAre we living in a topsy-turvy world?a aDid he call you that?a he asked.

aYes, he did use the word.a She took her hands away from the spoon and clasped them in her lap. aIt is the simple truth, is it not?a aIt is a good thing he is thirty miles away,a he said. aMy fists itch to rearrange the features on his face.a He slammed his napkin down onto the table and got to his feet. aI could kill him, the sanctimonious fool.a aI should have added,a she said, athat he said the word more in horror and pain than in condemnation.a He moved around the table and leaned over her, one hand braced on the table. aFleur,a he said, adonat ever let yourself be dragged down by that label. Promise me you wonat.a aI have accepted the fact that I did the only thing it seemed possible to do at the time,a she said, looking up into his eyes. aIt is in the past. Like your scars with you, it will always be with me and it will always affect my life. But I will not let it destroy me.a aI would double my own scars and live with them,a he said, aif only I could remove yours from you, Fleur.a His eyes burned down into hers.

aDonat.a She reached up one hand and cupped his scarred cheek with her hand. aDonat, please. What happened was not your fault. None of it was. And I think that everything that happens in life happens for a purpose. We become stronger people if we are not destroyed by the troubles of life.a aFleur.a He held her hand against his cheek. aAnd is there a purpose to this too? To you and me and to the fact that we must never see each other again after tomorrow?a She bit her lip.

He straightened up and released her hand. aI am going for a walk,a he said. aCome. I will see you to your room first. It has been a long and an eventful day. Tomorrow we will find what you have come to see, I promise you.a She preceded him up the stairs and turned the key in the lock of her door. He was standing at quite a distance from her when she looked up.

aGood night, Fleur,a he said.

aGood night, your grace.a aAdam,a he said. aSay it. I want to hear you say it.a aAdam,a she whispered. aGood night, Adam.a And he was gone, his booted feet heavy on the stairs even before she had closed and locked her door behind her.

THE DUKE OF RIDGEWAY walked back from the red house on the hill the following morning, deep in thought. Had Brocklehurst been that obsessed with her? It seemed that he must have been if he had gone to such extraordinary lengths to get her within his power.

And yet he had been content to net her, knowing very well that she neither liked nor respected him and could never love him. There were some strange men in the world.

There was something not at all normal about Brocklehurst.

Unless he had misinterpreted events entirely, the duke thought. But what other possible explanation could there be?

Fleur was in the private parlor at the inn, where he had left her after an early breakfast. He had persuaded her, with some difficulty, to allow him to go alone to Mr. Hobsonas house.

aWell?a She stopped moving as he opened the door, and gazed tensely at him.

aIt seems that the burial took place at Taunton,a he said. aIt is about twenty miles from here, forty from Heron House. Mr. Hobson has been there and seen the grave. There is a tombstone there now.a She stared at him. aAt Taunton?a she said. aBut why?a aIt seems that Hobson was killed close to there,a he said, awhen he and Brocklehurst were returning from London. Brocklehurst buried him there before traveling on here to break the news to the family.a Fleur stared at him. aI donat understand,a she said. aIt was at Heron House that he died.a aOf course,a the duke said.

aThe only reason he was not buried there was that his family was here,a she said.

aYes.a She frowned at him.

aWe will go to Taunton and see this thing through,a he said. aAre you ready to leave?a She continued to frown at him. The truth, or what must clearly be the truth, had not yet dawned on her. And perhaps it was as well. Perhaps it was not, after all, the truth. He would say nothing of his suspicions to her.

aYes,a she said.

Fifteen minutes later they were on their way.

aThis makes no sense,a she said. aTaunton is not even on the direct route to Wroxford.a She reached out her hand for his without even realizing what she was doing, he guessed. He took it in his and rested it on his thigh.

aRelax and enjoy the journey,a he said. aWe will ask questions when we get to the end of it.a aWe will not get home today,a she said. aYour journey will be delayed for another day.a aYes,a he said. And he raised her hand to his lips before returning it to his thigh. He looked into her eyes.

aIam sorry,a she said.

aIam not.a She caught her lower lip between her teeth.

aWhat shall we talk about today?a he said. aSchool? Tell me about yours. It was not a happy experience, was it?a aOh, in some ways,a she said. aI learned to love books while I was there and to love music even more than I had before. I learned to live with my imagination. It can add a wonderful dimension to life.a aYes,a he said. aIt can make a dreary life seem bright, canat it?a They smiled at each other before she talked on.

TAUNTON WAS A VERY small village. There was nothing there beyond the church and a few houses, one shop, and a small tavern. His grace had pointed out a decent posting inn on one main road a few miles back. They would stay the night there, he had said.

But Fleur did not take a great deal of notice. They were close, and she was leaning forward in her seat. Her heart was thumping.

And this time there was no missing it. It was there and new and large and proclaimed its legend for all to see: John Hobson, Beloved son of John and Martha Hobson, 1791a"1822. RIP.

God. Oh, God. Fleur stood beside it, turned to stone herself. She had killed him. He had been thirty-one years old. He had been someoneas beloved son. Martha Hobson had borne him. John Hobson had watched the son named after him grow up. They both must have felt pride when he became valet to Lord Brocklehurst of Heron House. They would have boasted of him to their friends. And now he was dead and cold beneath the ground.

She had killed him.

aOh, God,a she said, and she went down on one knee beside the grave and touched the cold headstone.

aFleur.a There was a light hand on her shoulder. aI am going to the vicarage for a moment. I will be back.a But she did not hear him. Hobson was lying in the ground beneath her, that large and powerful and handsome man. He was dead. She had killed him.

She did not know how long she knelt there. Finally two strong hands took her by the arms and helped her to her feet.

aIall take you back to that inn,a he said. aYou can rest there.a They were inside the carriage again, without her having any memory of having walked there.

aI didnat know it would be like this,a she said. aAt first I did not think a great deal about him. I was too concerned about myself. I did not even have many nightmares. And then I thought that perhaps he had deserved what happened, though I was sorry. And in the last week I have known that I must come here, must see his last resting place. But I did not know it would be like this.a Her hands were over her face.

aYou will be able to lie down and rest soon,a he said. His arms were about her. One hand had loosened the strings of her bonnet and tossed it aside. He had her head cradled on his shoulder, his fingers smoothing through her hair. He was murmuring to her.

aI didnat want him to die,a she said. aI didnat mean to kill him.a He secured two rooms for them at the posting inn, rooms far larger and better-appointed than those they had occupied the night before. There was a private parlor between them.

aI want you to lie down for an hour,a he said, leading her into one of the bedchambers, taking her by the arms, and seating her on the bed. aWe will have a late dinner together. I want you to sleep.a She obeyed the pressure of his hands and lay back against the pillows. He removed her shoes for her. She felt numb, still not quite in touch with reality.

aYou will want to remove your dress, perhaps, when I have left,a he said.

aYes.a aI have a few calls to make,a he said. aI will be back.a aYes,a she said. It did not occur to her to wonder on whom he would be paying calls in a part of the country that was quite strange to him. She closed her eyes.

And felt his lips touch hers briefly before he left the room.

She must have slept, she thought. It felt as if she had been gone for a very long time, though she was still wearing her dress, she saw, and he was standing over her as he had been when she had closed her eyes. And indeed there was a candle burning in the room, and darkness beyond the windows.

aI thought you would have given me up for lost long ago,a he said. aI thought you would have eaten and sent my dinner away cold already. Have you been sleeping all this time?a She looked at him, dazed. The right side of his mouth was curved into a smile. His dark eyes sparkled down into hers. She was lying on an inn bed, she thought, the Duke of Ridgeway standing over her.

aI have some good news for you,a he said. aYou had better not stand up until you have heard what it is. Or even sit up, for that matter.a aGood news?a she said.

aYou have not killed anyone,a he said. aBy deliberate intent or by accident or by any other means. You did not kill Hobson. The man is still alive somewhere, doubtless with a great deal of Brocklehurstas money in his pockets.a She stared up at him, at the strange bizarre dream that had just walked into her sleep.

aThe only thing that is buried in the cemetery here,a he said, ais a coffin filled with stones. It seems that our man was merely stunned by the hearthstone, Fleur. You are quite, quite free, my lovea"free of the noose and free of your conscience.a THEY DINED VERY LATE. THE DUKE HAD NOT expected to be gone quite so long, and Fleur had not expected to sleep so deeply.

aI really did not expect that anything would be done until tomorrow at the earliest,a he told her as they sat down to eat in their private parlor. aI reckoned without the curiosity and zeal of Sir Quentin Dowd.a Sir Quentin, he had told her, was the local magistrate. aI believe he would have dug up the whole graveyard single-handed if there had been no servants on hand and if I had been unable to show him the exact grave.a aBut what made you suspect it? I donat understand.a That was a phrase she seemed to have repeated many times in the course of the day, Fleur thought.

aWhy would one not wish to have a man buried either in the place where he died and was known or in the place where his family lived?a he said. aYour cousin seemed to have had a choice, and yet chose neither. In fact, he went literally out of his way to have the burial carried out in a strange place, where neither of them was known.a aSomeone might have wanted to see the body?a she said.

aI would imagine his family would have insisted on it,a he said. aAnd perhaps a few of the servants at Heron House or Hobsonas friends in the neighborhood would have expressed the wish too. Your cousin could not risk that happening. He did not cover his tracks well, of course, and he told conflicting stories to various people. But then, I suppose he did not expect that anyone would be curious enough to do any careful investigating. Eat up.a Fleur looked at her plate, though she could not remember how food had got onto it. aHow can I eat?a she asked.

aWith your knife and fork,a he said. aHow does it feel to be free?a aBut where did he go?a she asked. aAnd why? Why would he let his family think him dead?a aUndoubtedly for money,a he said. aI would guess he is on the Continent somewhere.a aAnd why would Matthew do it?a She frowned. aIt was a diabolical plot. And all so that I would hang? Does he hate me so much?a aYou know the answer to that,a he said. aHe never had any intention of letting you hang. He wanted you in his power for the rest of your life. He has a strong obsession for you, Fleur.a aBut I have always disliked him,a she said. aHow could he have wanted me, knowing that? And knowing that I would hate him for forcing me into such a thing?a aFor some men it is enough to have power over something they desire,a he said. aSometimes there seems even to be a special thrill about being hated. I donat know if your cousin is one of those men. I would not have said so from my acquaintance with him at Willoughby. He did not seem demonic. But his actions certainly suggest that he is.a aI shall not look forward to his coming back home and living close to me again,a she said.

aFleur.a He reached out and touched her hand. aDo you really expect such a thing? Sir Quentin at this very moment is breathing fire and brimstone. Your cousin is in deep trouble, I promise you. I donat believe you will have to fear his coming home for a long time to come.a aOh,a she said. She looked down at her plate again. aI am not hungry.a He got to his feet and rang for a waiter to remove the dishes. They were both silent until the task was completed.

aI keep waiting to wake up,a she said. She crossed the room and stood looking down into the empty fireplace. aI was very foolish to run, wasnat I? I should have gone to the rectory as I had planned to do.a aBut he would have carried out the same plan,a he said, aand perhaps got away with it.a aYes,a she said. aI donat know if anyone else would have guessed the truth. I would not have. Only you. And I would not have met you if I had not run.a He stood a short distance from her, watching her gaze into the fireplace. aI wish you had not had to suffer so much,a he said quietly. aI wish you had asked me for help, Fleur. I wish I had thought to ask if you needed my help. I wish it had been different.a aBut it was not,a she said.

aNo.a aWhy have you done all this for me?a She turned her head to look at him. aTell me the truth.a He shook his head slowly.

aI donat think I could have been more terrified of the devil than I was of you,a she said, awhen it was happening and in my thoughts and nightmares afterward. And when you came home to Willoughby and I realized that the Duke of Ridgeway was you, I thought I would die from the horror of it.a His face was expressionless. aI know,a he said.

aI was afraid of your hands more than anything,a she said. aThey are beautiful hands.a He said nothing.

aWhen did it all change?a she asked. She turned completely toward him and closed the distance between them. aYou will not say the words yourself. But they are the same words as the ones on my lips, arenat they?a She watched him swallow.

aFor the rest of my life I will regret saying them,a she said. aBut I believe I would regret far more not saying them.a aFleur,a he said, and reached out a staying hand.

aI love you,a she said.

aNo.a aI love you.a aIt is just that we have spent a few days together,a he said, aand talked a great deal and got to know each other. It is just that I have been able to help you a little and you are feeling grateful to me.a aI love you,a she said.

aFleur.a She reached up to touch his scar. aI am glad I did not know you before this happened,a she said. aI do not believe I would have been able to stand the pain.a aFleur,a he said, taking her wrist in his hand.

aAre you crying?a she said. She lifted both arms and wrapped them about his neck and laid her cheek against his shoulder. aDonat, my love. I did not mean to lay a burden on you. I donat mean to do so. I only want you to know that you are loved and always will be.a aFleur,a he said, his voice husky from his tears, aI have nothing to offer you, my love. I have nothing to give you. My loyalty is given elsewhere. I didnat want this to happen. I donat want it to happen. You will meet someone else. When I am gone you will forget and you will be happy.a She lifted her head and looked into his face. She wiped away one of his tears with one finger. aI am not asking anything in return,a she said. aI just want to give you something, Adam. A free gift. My love. Not a burden, but a gift. To take with you when you go, even though we will never see each other again.a He framed her face with his hands and gazed down into it. aI so very nearly did not recognize you,a he said. aYou were so wretchedly thin, Fleur, and pale. Your lips were dry and cracked, your hair dull and lifeless. But I did know you for all that. I think I would still be in London searching for you if you had not gone to that agency. But itas too late, love. Six years too late.a He lowered his head to kiss her, and heat flared instantly. He lifted his head.

aI have only tonight to offer you,a he said. aTomorrow I will be taking you home and continuing on my way to my own home.a aYes,a she said.

aOnly tonight, Fleur.a aYes.a aWe will make it enough.a aYes.a aWe will make it last for all eternity.a aAnd even beyond that,a she said.

aFleur,a he said. aMy beloved. It was the love of my life I recognized outside the Drury Lane Theater. You know that, donat you?a His lips were against hers.

aYes,a she said. aYes.a aI love you. You must know that I have loved you from the first moment I saw you standing in the shadows.a aYes.a She opened her mouth beneath his, touched his lips with her tongue. aAdam. Love me. Take away my fears.a He kissed her deeply, reaching into the heat of her mouth with his tongue, molding her body to his with his hands, waiting for it to surrender fully against his own.

aAre you still afraid?a he asked against her lips.

aMortally.a She kept her eyes closed. aOf the stages that follow this. But I want it all with you, Adam. I want your hands on me, and your body. I want you in me.a He kissed her again and felt her with his handsa"the full, firm breasts already hard-tipped beneath her dress, the small waist and shapely hips, the softly rounded buttocks.

aFleur.a He whispered her name into her mouth. He wanted her with a fierce pain.

aKeep touching me,a she whispered. aGive me courage. Your hands are so warm and so strong. Give me courage.a He bent and swung her up into his arms and carried her through the open door into her bedchamber. He set her down on the bed.

And she knew that she was committed, that she could not go back, though she knew equally that he would have stopped at any moment she said the word. She loved him more than life and she wanted more than anything else at that moment for the memory of an ugly coupling to be erased and replaced with a memory of love.

But she was afraid. Mortally afraid. She was afraid of the intense burning look in his dark eyes. She was afraid of his hawkish features and slashing scar. She was afraid of his hands, which covered her breasts and felt their tips with his thumbs and which moved first behind her head to remove the pins from her hair and then behind her back to undo the buttons of her dress. And she was afraid of his body, still hidden beneath his clothing.

aWe can make this enough,a he said, looking down into her face, his hands stilling at her back. aWe can make this much loving enough, Fleur. I will merely hold you for a few minutes longer to give myself the courage to let you go.a aNo,a she said. aI want all of it, Adam. I want all of you. I want to give you all of me.a He slid the dress off her shoulders, down her arms, down over her hips and her legs. She watched his eyes as her chemise and her undergarments and stockings followed. And she remembered standing naked before him, her clothes in a neat pile on the floor beside her.