FASCINATION

Joan Elliott Pickart

The chemistry between them was instantaneous, but can it survive their differences?

At first they just watched each other, he from the courtyard bench, she from her office window, until the suspense was too intriguing to resist. When wiley detective work revealed to lawyer Jeff Webster that he'd spent two weeks gazing at Robin Kent of Kent's Temps, he just had to meet the lady face-to-face. Surprised by her own feelings for her appealing admirer, Robin agreed to have dinner with him, but the chemistry they'd felt seemed to suddenly to disappear: she adored fast food and football, while he lived for gourmet meals and shunned the game! Still, when their lips met, the attraction was irresistible...

This charming romance demonstrates why Joan Elliott Pickart was the winner of ROMANTIC TIMES award for Best New Series Author in 1985. She has created a delightful and sexy couple who prove that sometimes love is best when opposites attract.

For Janet and her Sara

CHAPTER ONE Jeff Webster pulled the knot of his tie down from his collar and undid the two top buttons on his shirt as he sank onto the wooden bench. Ten o'clock. He was right on time. Stretching his long legs out in front of him and crossing them at the ankle, he lifted the soda can to his mouth, tilted his head back, and squinted. He had that down to an art now. The motion would allow him to get a clear picture of her while he appeared engrossed in consuming his drink. He took a deep swallow of the carbonated liquid and nearly choked. She wasn't there! What had happened to her? Was she sick? Had she been injured in an accident? This just wasn't like her! Every morning for the past ten days she had appeared at that fourth-floor window of the building across the grassy courtyard. So where in the hell was she? Didn't anyone care that she was missing? Lord, Jeff thought. He sounded ridiculous! So what if she hadn't looked out the window this morning, like she had every other day? It was no big deal, and certainly none of his business. But still, he remembered how attractive she'd looked the day before, in a bright-red blouse that had complemented her dark, shoulder-length hair. He couldn't see her face clearly, because of the distance between them, but he knew she was pretty. He just knew it. She had a graceful way of moving and must be fairly tall, for he could see her slender waist and the beginning of the gentle slope to her hips above the windowsill. So where was she today, for Pete's sake?

Robin Kent cradled the receiver of the telephone on her shoulder and glanced again at her watch. Damn. Would this woman never finish? Robin had been due at the window four minutes ago. She was going to miss seeing him if she didn't get off the phone. He'd be nearly finished with his soda by now. Those long legs would be stretched out in front of him, pulling the material of his slacks tightly against his thighs. Tie would be tugged loose, two buttons undone on the shirt, and he would be totally relaxed and, thank

heaven, oblivious to her scrutiny. The sun would skitter through the leaves of the tree behind the bench where he sat and dance across his thick, light-brown hair. Something told her he was handsome. She was too far away to see his features but was sure he was ruggedly good-looking. She could sense it. He moved with an easy gait, powerful but controlled. He was well over six feet tall and had the wide shoulders and narrow hips of an athlete. And she wouldn't see him today if this woman didn't stop blabbering! "Oh, my goodness," Robin said, "I do hate to interrupt, but I have a call on hold. I certainly appreciate your order, Mrs. Murin, and you can be assured I'll have someone there at nine sharp. Yes. . . . You have a nice day too. Good-bye." Praise the Lord, Robin thought, dropping the receiver into place and walking quickly to the window. He was still there! Gray slacks today. Nice. The brown ones he had worn yesterday with the matching vest were snazzy too. Of course, there must be jackets to all these outfits, but he never wore them outside for his soda fix. He didn't seem quite so relaxed, somehow. Even from this far away she could almost feel the tension emanating from his massive frame. No, now he was slouching a bit, as if whatever had been troubling him was resolved. Good. She didn't want him to have any problems.

There she is! Jeff thought, letting out a breath of relief. She was all right! Royal-blue blouse today. She liked bright, happy colors. No doubt they reflected her personality. She'd be warm and intelligent, and would laugh at the slightest provocation. But why had she been late? Was something not going smoothly for her? No, he wouldn't even consider the possibility. There were no difficulties, no snags in her existence. He didn't want there to be any, so there weren't. She just smiled through her day, and nobody hassled her. They'd sure as hell better not! "Jeff, there you are!"

"What? Oh, hi, Carol. How did you know where I was?" "I saw you from the breezeway. So, my legal eagle brother, don't you have a kiss for your big sister?" Carol said, sitting down next to him on the bench. "No! I mean, I. . . think I'm catching a cold, and I wouldn't want to spread my germs." "You? You're never sick. What are you so jumpy about? You're acting as though there's a mugger in the bushes, or something." "Me?" "Jeff, for heaven's sake! I think you're working too hard. You're not the only lawyer in Tucson, you know." "Did I do something special to deserve this visit?" he asked abruptly. "I came by, Mr. Personality, to drop off the swatches of material for the drapes in your office. Your new place is shaping up beautifully. Pick what you want and call me with the number on the tag. I have the measurements." "Yeah, okay." "I'm leaving. You are not a fun person today, Jeff Webster, but I love you anyway. Ta-ta." "Huh? Oh, good-bye, Carol." Wonderful, Jeff thought, just wonderful. His lady in the window would think Carol was his wife or girlfriend or something. Maybe not. He would have kissed her, right? He obviously hadn't urged Carol to hang around. Even from four floors up she could see that Carol wasn't the love of his life. Couldn't she?

He didn't kiss her, Robin reflected. He did not! He didn't even touch her, and she sure left in a hurry. She had the glamorous look, long legs, perfectly cut suit. What a witch. She'd chased him all the way out to the courtyard. Well,

he'd sent her packing fast enough. He wouldn't like a pushy woman. He was a man's man, had class, knew his own mind, and took orders from no one. Well, man on the bench, she thought, time to get back to work. She turned and walked slowly back to her desk.

Damn, Jeff thought, that was it for today. She was gone. What did she think about every morning when she stood by the window? Nothing sad, he hoped. She mustn't be unhappy. She would have everything she wanted. A husband? No! She was too independent and had been concentrating on her career and hadn't had time for love. Yet. But, oh, when she loved, it would be forever. He knew it. He stood up and threw away his soda can. Lord, he thought, he'd been so ridiculously worried about her seeing Carol, and his lady probably didn't even know he was there on the bench. But sometimes she seemed to be looking straight at him. What would happen if he raised his hand in salute? No, he wouldn't risk it. He'd just watch her, his mystery lady, his lady in the window.

"Miss Kent?" "Yes, Denise?" "These checks are ready for you to sign." "Fine. Denise, would you, uh, see if there's a listing of all the businesses in this building?" "Sure, but why?" "Why? Why. Becausebecause we might want to put out a flyer advertising our temporary-help services. There could be potential clients right under our noses here."

"Oh, that makes sense," the young woman said. "I'll check on it right now." Why had she done that? Robin thought as the secretary left the office. She really didn't want to know who the man on the bench was. He was a fantasy, a mind game she was playing. Well, a list of tenants wasn't going to bring her any closer to knowing his identity anyway. It would be like picking a needle out of a haystack. She was being so silly with her ten o'clock dash to the window, but it was fun and certainly not hurting anyone. She had been in this building for six months, and then suddenly, ten days ago, there he had been, swigging his soda under the tree. No, she really didn't want to know who he was.

"Mr. Webster, your messages are on your desk." "Thank you, Lois," Jeff said. He strode into his office and sat down in the leather chair. Fourth floor, he thought. Third window over. There were two big windows in each office. She was in the second office on the fourth floor, and there would be a name on the door. If he strolled over there and . . . No, that would ruin everything. Now she was whatever he wanted her to be. He wouldn't make her any more than a shadowy figure. Jeff shook his head. He was nuts. Carol was right, he was working too hard. But, dammit, the lady in the window was his! He needed to escape every morning at ten and forget all the pressures of his work. Fourth floor, second office. No, he didn't want to know!

Robin worked diligently for the next hour, hiring a clerk typist and a construction worker to join the ranks of her ever-increasing temporary-help staff. The business was growing steadily and had gained the reputation for providing well-trained, reliable personnel. But, oh, she was tired. She felt closer to eighty-six than twenty-six as she walked to the end of the office and poured herself a cup of coffee.

It had been worth it. she thought. All that pounding of the pavement calling on prospective clients, the first dingy office, the long and grueling days, the jobs she had taken herself when she couldn't find competent fill-ins. Now, two years after the conception of Kent's Temps., her business was flourishing and was housed in the plush Sunrise Plaza Office Building. Two years with no time off or thoughts that strayed far from her responsibilities. Robin frowned as she swirled the steaming liquid in her cup. What was wrong with her? She had everything she could possibly want, but lately she had sensed an inner restlessness, an urge to do something. But what? Go on a vacation? And miss the football season at the University of Arizona? Never. Besides, October in the desert was beautiful, and there was no place else she'd rather be. She had a lovely apartment, and a steady escort in the person of Eric Marshall. Maybe she should work harder at falling in love with Eric. Heavens, how stupid. She couldn't just push a button and evoke emotions that weren't there. Eric was so . . . nice. So what did she want him to do? Stop planting those chaste little kisses on her rosebud mouth and make mad, passionate love to her instead? "No, thank you," she said aloud. "I'll pass." Eric just didn't ring her chimes, as the old saying went. He was fun, considerate, enjoyed sports events, but a lover? She just couldn't picture him in that role. He'd probably stop to fold his socks before he jumped on her body. Oh, how terrible! She wasn't being fair. Eric was handsome, with his blond good looks and neat appearance, but he was so darn predictable. Robin knew what he was going to do before he did it! She knew what he was going to say before he said it. She needed some spice in her life, a change. A reward for her two long years of back-breaking toil. Easier said than done. A person just didn't jump out of bed one morning and shovel a spoonful of excitement into her coffee and her life. Robin refused to become a part of the beef on the hoof at the singles' bars, and Eric took her to all the sports events she so thoroughly enjoyed. So what had she done? She'd resorted to fantasizing about a stranger on a bench every morning at ten o'clock. Now, that was sick! But the man

seemed so together. He didn't worry about the wind messing up his hair, and he didn't dust off the bench before he sat down, as if he assumed it would be clean because he was going to sit there. He didn't crush the soda can before he tossed it into the trash barrel, like some macho types, and he moved with such assurance and gracefulness for a man of his size. He wouldn't think about his clothes when he made love to a woman. He'd rip them from that massive body, buttons flying, and then he'd "Lord!" Robin said, shaking her head. "I'm getting carried away here!" She walked into the small bathroom off her office, intent on splashing some cold water on her face. She paused, though, and stared at her reflection in the mirror over the sink. Her heart-shaped face boasted large gray eyes topped by naturally arched dark brows, and her skin held the natural, healthy glow of a person who enjoyed being out of doors. Her hair was thick and nearly straight and hung to just above her shoulders, but swung in a dark swirl when she moved her head. Too fresh and wholesome-looking to be termed beautiful, Robin knew she was pretty, at last having outgrown the term "cute." Maybe she should change her image, she mused as she walked back to her desk. She'd get a sultry hairdo and go to Goldwater's Department Store for one of those makeup classes to give herself a new look. Then what? No, she was who she was, and it was fine. But, dammit, she was bored! When the peak experience of her day was to sneak a look at a man out of her window, she was definitely in trouble! "Miss Kent, I have the tenants list," Denise said, coming into the office and startling Robin out of her reverie. "That wing on the other side of the courtyard is built just the opposite of ours. The windows are on the front and the corridor runs along the back. That's why we only see a brick wall from here. I never noticed that before. Anyway, the manager's secretary gave me this list. Oh, the one name at the bottom is written in because the guy just moved in two weeks ago and she hasn't retyped the list yet." "Thank you, Denise," Robin said, accepting the paper and turning it upside down on her desk. "I'll call you if I need you."

Forget the needle in the haystack number, she thought. The man on the bench would be the one who had been just written in. Robin had already surmised that he was new in the building because of his sudden appearance in the courtyard. Darn it! Why hadn't that secretary been more efficient? Now all Robin had to do was flip the list over and the man would have a name. No, she wouldn't do it. It would make him too human, too real, and she needed him to stay just like he was. He was an enigma, an unknown entity, and therefore he was perfect. So be it. She wouldn't look at the list. She'd simply ignore it and pretend it wasn't there. "Oh, hell!" she said, snatching it up. "Who am I kidding?" There he was in living, breathing blue ink. Jeffrey Webster, Attorney-at-Law. Thank heaven. If he had been a Harvey or an Elmer she would have died. Jeffrey. Jeff. Oh, yes, it fit. A strong, masculine name to go with that nonstop body. Jeff. It had a nice ring to it. And he was a lawyer. Perfect. Somehow she didn't want him to be an insurance salesman or a plumbing-parts distributor. An attorney was right on the mark. Thank yous to Mr. Webster for studying his little heart out and getting his fancy degree. Very cooperative of the ol' dear. Jeff. Yep, it was getting better by the minute. "Miss Kent, line one, please," Denise said over the intercom. "Yes, of course. Thank you," Robin said, picking up the receiver, even as her gaze lingered a moment longer on the tenants' list. Jeffrey Webster, Attorney-at-Law. Awesome!

At four o'clock that afternoon, Jeff Webster threw his pen onto the desk and scowled at the ceiling. Damn it to hell, it was driving him crazy! Fourth floor, second office. Admit it, Webster, he said silently to himself. You're going to do it, so do it! "Lois," he said into the intercom, "would you come in here a moment?"

"Certainly." Lois Chambers picked up her notebook and pencil and smoothed her gray hair before entering her boss's office. At fifty-two she was plumper than she would have preferred, but then, she had been for years. She thought Jeff Webster was a dream to work for, except that lately he was pushing himself much too hard. Even his sister had mentioned it that morning when she'd come by with the swatches of material. A handsome young man like Jeff should be enjoying life to the hilt. He had looks, money, was only thirty-six, and yet he buried himself in legal files. What a shame. What a waste! "Yes, sir?" Lois said pleasantly. "Lois, I want you to take a little walk." "A walk?" "Yes. Go over to the other wing of the building, up to the fourth floor, and see what name is on the door of the second office from the far end." "Do I know why I'm doing this?" "Pretend you're Magnum. Don't be obvious about it or hover around. Just wander by and check it out." "My, my," she said, smiling, "this is exciting. If I bump into Magnum up there can I keep him?" "With my blessings." Jeff laughed. His white teeth flashed against his tanned face, and tiny lines appeared at the corners of his eyes. "Okay, here I go. Maybe I missed my true calling and I should have been a detective. I'll be back in a few minutes." She hurried from the office. Jeff pushed himself to his feet and walked to the table that the coffee sat on. He'd certainly made Lois's day interesting, he thought as he poured himself a cup. He was acting like a complete idiot, and Lois was having a wonderful time. She'd probably tell Carol that poor baby-brother Jeff was slipping over

the edge. Could be true. He had never done anything like this before in his life. The years had shown him he could have more women than he could handle if he wanted them, and he had for a lengthy stretch of time. But the sparkle was gone, the faces all a blur. He needed . . . Now, there was a good question. What did he need? He damn well didn't know, but whatever it was he didn't have it. There was a void, an emptiness in his existence. Things were getting pretty bad when he started playing mental cat-and- mouse with a woman he saw looking out of a window! He should just forget that nonsense. But where in the hell was Lois? "I'm back," Lois said breathlessly. "Boy, I was great! This man came down the hall, so I pretended I was heading for the elevator. Then I circled back and" "What was on the door?" "Oh. It said, 'Kent's Temps. Temporary Placement Service. Robin Kent, Owner.' " "Thank you," Jeff said absently, sinking into his chair. "Go home early. I don't have anything else for you to do today." "You mean my detective career is over already? Darn. Well, see you tomorrow, Mr. Webster." "Yeah, tomorrow." Robin, he thought. Just like the beautiful bird that signaled the beginning of spring. Lovely. Robin Kent. Kent's Temps. Catchy, showed imagination and a sense of humor. And she owned the company, which meant she had drive and intelligence. She was in the big office next to the windows, so she was the boss, not the secretary. Robin. If he had chosen a name himself, he couldn't have done better. It seemed to roll off his tongue with such ease, as if he had been saying it for years. Robin Kent. So now she had a name and a profession. She was obviously doing wellthe rent in this building wasn't cheapbut she

deserved it. She'd worked hard, dedicated herself to the task at hand andHe was definitely cracking up! For all he knew, she had a rich husband, lived in the foothills, and played at running a business to occupy her pampered time. Like hell! She wasn't like that at all! She was "That's it!" Jeff said, standing up abruptly. "I'm going home!" The powerful engine of the silver Corvette roared into action, and Jeff drove away from the office complex, commanding the automobile with ease. He headed north, toward the majestic Santa Catalina Mountains, finally weaving his way through the foothills to his large brick home. Inside the enormous living room, which was decorated in cool tones of light blue and gray with modern- styled chrome-and-glass tables, he flicked on the stereo, filling the expanse with the sounds of Mozart. In the master bedroom he changed into snug- fitting white bathing trunks, then walked out to his pool, beyond the back patio. The crystal-clear water was refreshing, and Jeff swam with steady, even strokes, the muscles in his arms and shoulders bunching with the rhythmic motion. For the next hour he swam lap after lap, blanking all thoughts from his mind as he willed himself to relax. When he was finally tired he pushed on, collapsing at last, with a sense of contentment, onto a lounge chair. He had needed a good physical workout, a chance to strain his body instead of his mind. How did Robin unwind after a hectic day? Dammit, where had that thought come from? Now she was following him home, for Pete's sake! She was supposed to stay behind her window, where she belonged!

Robin entered her apartment with a weary sigh and tossed her purse on the sofa. It was good to get home, and she was starving. The warm browns, oranges, and yellows that she had chosen for her spacious home welcomed her. She changed into jeans and a cotton blouse, then consumed a dinner of steak, baked potato, and a salad while Kenny Rogers, followed by the Oak Ridge Boys and the Statler Brothers, growled from the stereo.

So what, she wondered as she munched on some lettuce, was Jeffrey Webster, Attorney-at-Law, having for his evening meal? For heaven's sake, who cared? Why was she thinking about him? He'd never been in her kitchen before! He had always remained safely tucked away on the bench beneath the tree! The ringing of the telephone brought a frown to Robin's face. Eric. It was Thursday night, so he was confirming their date for the football game at the U of A Saturday. Good old, dependable Eric. "Hello," Robin said, picking up the receiver off the end table in the living room. "Hi, Robin. Eric. Just wanted to double-check about Saturday night. Ready to cheer on the Wildcats?" "Always. So how are things at Mountain View High?" She knew he'd say, It's a zoo, Robin. A real zoo. "It's a zoo, Robin. A real zoo. Well, I have five classes of math papers to grade. I'll see you Saturday." "Fine, Eric." And he'd say, Take care, Robin. 'Bye for now. "Take care, Robin. 'Bye for now." " 'Bye," she said, slowly hanging up and deciding whether or not to scream. Couldn't Eric come up with something different to say, just once in his life? Usually Robin was content to spend the evening reading or watching television, but that night neither seemed to hold any appeal for her. She wrote a breezy, cheerful letter to her mother, in Prescott, did a load of wash in her mini-sized washer and dryer, then flopped onto the sofa in a dejected heap. Bored. Bored. Bored.

How did lawyers fill their spare time? she mused. They were mega-bucks boys and probably did the town every night. Was Jeff a swinger, a playboy? No, of course not. He was dedicated to his profession and discriminating in his affairs. Affairs? That rat! How many? One a month? A week? Did he change women daily, as he did his perfectly tailored suits? Don't be ridiculous, she scolded herself. Not Jeffrey Webster, Attorney-at- Law. He was a cut above the herd. The man had class! She just knew he was honest and up front, making no promises of a commitment that he didn't intend to keep. He belonged to no woman because he was searching for that special someone with whom to spend the rest of his life. How romantic. A bubble of laughter escaped from Robin's lips. She was being so incredibly silly, and it felt so darn good. Good Lord, a fantasy lover. But, oh, what a lover Jeff Webster would be! He was so tall, appeared so strong. Just imagine all that strength directed at her, consuming her, moving over her in thrusting motions as she clung to his glistening body and "Sweet heaven," Robin said, jumping up from the sofa as heated desire swirled through her. "I'm getting kinky. Enough already!" With a dejected sigh, she flopped back onto the sofa. How easy it was to be mentally worldly, to imagine that taking a lover was normal for her. Yet it simply wasn't true. Her one-night fling in college had been a fumbling, unfulfilling disaster, and she hadn't wanted another one since. She presented a picture of the modern career woman in a liberated society, but her personal standards and beliefs were of another era. She could not, would not, have sex with a man she did not love. It was all her mother's fault. That was good, she thought. When in doubt, blame it on your mother. Elizabeth Kent was a storybook classic. She had fallen in love at first sight, and been married for thirty years to her one and only love until Robert Kent had died of a sudden heart attack. Once Elizabeth had worked through her grief, she had been content with the cherished memories of her time with her precious Robert. Be good to your heart, she had told Robin again and again. Save your love for that very

special someone who will bring sunshine to the bleakest day. Keep sacred that glorious, celebratory joining of man and woman until the time is right, and then rejoice in what is shared. And Robin had listened, seen the serene glow in her mother's eyes, and wanted more than anything to have that type of relationship for herself someday. Her one rebellious sexual experience had only reaffirmed that her mother was right. The physical and emotional could not be separate entities. For love to be complete it had to be a total giving of one's self, mind and body . . . forever. Robin managed to while away the remaining hours of the evening by doing the crossword puzzle in the paper, and went to bed shortly after eleven. Sleep was elusive, however, and when it came it brought strange dreams of a tall man who moved in and out of her view and whose face she could not clearly see.

At 1:00 A.M. Jeff Webster gave up his constant tossing and turning and pushed himself off the bed. Not bothering to cover his nakedness, he walked into the kitchen and pulled a dish out of the refrigerator. He'd start the night all over again. He'd finish up the beef stroganoff and then go swimming, and maybe this time he'd exhaust himself enough to doze off. He'd never had trouble sleeping before, and it was nerve-wracking. What was next? An ulcer? Wonderful. Robin Kent was probably snoozing away like a baby because she didn't have a worry in the world. And she sure as hell wasn't caught up in a make-believe number that centered on a Peeping Tom routine every morning at ten o'clock. How did she sleep? Curled up like a little girl? On her stomach? Her back? Nude? Or wearing something ultrafeminine that would give a tantalizing glimpse of firm breasts and soft thighs? "Dammit," Jeff said aloud as he felt a stirring in the lower regions of his body, "this is out of control and is absolutely going to stop! See? Now I'm even talking to myself!"

He swam until he could hardly drag himself out of the pool and then collapsed onto the lounge chair. He fell asleep instantly, not waking until the first rays of dawn flickered across his face. Feeling chilled, he shuffled into the house and headed for the shower, where the warm water revived him. Dressed in a dark three-piece suit, he consumed four cups of coffee and a tower of toast before heading for the office. There was a deep scowl on his face, and his jaw was tightly set. Jeff Webster was not in a terrific mood.

"Dammit," Robin said, throwing the panty hose onto the floor. "I snagged a brand-new pair." Great morning so far, she added silently to herself. She had a pounding headache from her restless night, was out of life-saving coffee, had chipped a fingernail, and had now demolished an expensive pair of panty hose. The remainder of the day would have to be better, because how could it get any worse? "Good morning, Mr. Webster," Lois sang out cheerfully as Jeff entered the outer office. "No, it's not," she muttered an instant later, when she saw his stormy expression. "Coffee?" "I'll get it," he said, walking past her toward his office. "I made an appointment for Mr. Kischer to see you at ten about those contracts." "Ten?" Jeff said, spinning around. "Yes. There's nothing on your calendar until this afternoon, when you'll be too busy to come up for air." "I can't meet with Kischer at ten," Jeff said quickly. He didn't believe this, he thought. He was putting off an important client to go look at a woman in a window? "Is there some reason that ten is inconvenient?" Lois asked. "It, uh, just is. Call him and make it for ten- thirty."

"Whatever you say. Oh, your sister phoned and said you didn't get back to her about the material for the drapes." "Hell, you pick it. I don't know one from the other," Jeff growled, striding into his office. "This is going to be a very long day," Lois said under her breath. "I'll hit him up for hazardous duty pay."

Robin sipped the coffee with a grateful sigh and sank into the chair behind her desk. Denise had called all the businesses presently using Kent's Temps., and all the people Robin had placed were at their appointed locations. Robin had been running so late she had missed the morning rushhour traffic on Campbell Avenue, which was a nice change, and it was Friday, with a weekend of football in the offing. Things were looking up from the disastrous beginning of the day, and in forty-five minutes it would be time to peer at Jeff. How easily his name flowed through her mind now, as though she had always known it. She had dressed in a sunny yellow silk blouse with a soft bow at the neck, and a brown flared skirt that came to the midpoint of her nicely shaped calves, which were accentuated by brown leather pumps. She still couldn't muster a smile though, for her head was aching. Sleepless nights did not agree with her nervous system. At one minute before ten, Robin refilled her coffee cup and took a deep breath. What if he wasn't there? she thought suddenly. He had to be! She wanted to see him as Jeffrey Webster, Attorney-at- Law. Once she had done that, he would become a human being, who no doubt belonged to some woman, and she would be finished with her morning fantasy. She was ending it today. When she had imagined a total stranger making love to her, she had realized she was overdoing it. She moved to the window. One last glimpse, and that would be that.

And there he was! Dark slacks, vest, tie pulled loose, buttons undone and . . . two cans of soda? Jeff Webster was thirsty today. Jeffrey. Yes, it was so right.

Yellow blouse, Jeff thought, squinting as he tipped the can. Pretty color on Robin. He had almost been late getting out because the dumb soda machine had eaten his money and given him nothing in return. Frustrated, he had kicked it, and two cans had tumbled into the slot. Robin should join him and drink the other one. What did he expect her to do? he scoffed at himself. Fly out the window and land on the bench next to him? This business had to stop. The image of Robin Kent had followed him home last night, and the whole thing was becoming borderline weird. He would not come to the courtyard after this morning. It seemed rather sad, but definitely necessary. He was losing touch with reality, envisioning the nearly naked form of a woman he didn't even know. So today was farewell to lovely Robin. Jeff tossed the empty can into the trash barrel and pulled the tab off the second one, resuming his rather slouched position as he took a deep swallow. Then, before he was actually aware of what he was doing, he slowly lifted the can in a silent toast to the lady in the window, leaned forward, and rested his elbows on his knees as he stared up at her.

Robin felt her heart start to beat erratically, and her eyes widened. Jeff had acknowledged her presence! He had saluted her with the can and now was looking directly at her. Oh, how embarrassing! Had he seen her watching him all these days? Now what? Did she step back out of view and forget the whole thing? No, dammit, she told herself forcefully, she had the right to look out her own window. It wasn't her fault Jeff Webster had fallen into her line of vision. Did he think he could rattle her by letting her know he had seen her? Well, he had shaken her up, but he wasn't going to have the last word. Two could play at this game.

With a firm tilt to her chin, Robin raised her coffee cup and cocked her head slightly, clearly returning Jeffs greeting in kind. She saw his head snap up in surprise and mentally patted herself on the back. Gotcha, Webster, she thought merrily. He hadn't expected that to happen, had he?

I'll be damned, Jeff thought, a wide smile creeping onto his face. So Robin did know he was there! What a classy move! She'd just lifted her cup and let him have it right between the eyes. If he could gawk at her, then she could do the same to him. What a nifty lady Robin Kent of Kent's Temps, was. A lady he had every intention of meeting!

CHAPTER TWO Oh, brother, Robin thought as she slowly backed away from the window and sank into her chair. Now she had really gone and done it! She had issued an invitation to Jeff Webster as clearly as if she'd held up a poster with "Howdy, I'm lookin' at you!" written on it. What would he do now? Probably go home and tell his wife about the brash woman on the fourth floor across the courtyard. No, dammit, he didn't have a wife! Oh, for Pete's sake, she was making a big deal out of nothing. So the man had noticed her, so what? He was merely being polite by greeting her as he might acknowledge someone who had stepped into the elevator with him. She was overreacting because she was still embarrassed about how far she had taken Jeffrey Webster into her imaginary world. Making love was the max! But he didn't know that. Okay, she was calm now. The whole thing had just thrown her for a minute. Jeff couldn't read her mind, so there was nothing to worry about. Case closed. Get back to work.

"Did you swallow a canary in the courtyard?" Lois asked, glancing up at Jeff's smiling face. "It is simply a beautiful day," he said as he strolled into his office. "I can't keep up with him," Lois muttered. "I'm getting too old for this!" Jeff sat down at his desk, rebuttoning his shirt and straightening his tie in anticipation of his meeting with Frank Kischer. He still had ten minutes. To do what? Bound through the door of Kent's Temps, and haul Robin into his arms? Definitely not. This was going to take some careful planning, a touch of finesse. What if there was a husband? He would end up looking like the Fool of the Year. No, Robin wasn't married. She just wasn't. Jeff reached for the telephone book and flipped through the yellow pages until he found the large ad for Kent's Temps. An ad that size cost bucks, he

thought, so business must be brisk. He frowned as he looked at his telephone. His hands were sweating! Sweating, for Pete's sake, like a teenager calling a girl for his first date. He was Jeffrey Webster, who had finally gotten an answering machine to screen his calls at home because women kept phoning him! So dial the number, Webster! he told himself. "Mr. Kischer is here," Lois said from the doorway. "Hell! Ask him to wait a few minutes. I'll be there in a bit." "All right. Um, your jacket?" "Yeah, I'll put it on. Give Kischer a cup of coffee." "Now he's crabby again," Lois mumbled, rolling her eyes. "I think I'll retire." Jeff squinted at the phone as if it were an alien monster, then snatched up the receiver and dialed the seven numbers in rapid succession before he could change his mind. "Kent's Temps.," a pleasant voice said. "May I speak with Miss Kent, please?" "Certainly. Just a moment, please." The secretary hadn't corrected him and said it was Mrs. Kent. Good sign? Insignificant detail? He didn't know. "Robin Kent." It was her! Her voice was mellow, lovely. It "Hello?" "Yes! Robin, this is Jeff"

"Webster," Robin interrupted. Lord, what a stupid thing to do, she thought. There were a million Jeffs in the world! Just because she was thinking about him didn't mean it was that Jeff who was calling. "Yes, Jeff Webster," he said, surprise evident in his voice. "From the courtyard." "With the can of soda," she said, smiling. His voice was a melody of rich sounds. A deep-timbred resonance that fit his stature. "I was wondering, Robin, if you'd join me at ten on Monday morning in the courtyard for a soft drink?" "II'd be delighted, Jeff." "Good. I'll see you then." "Fine. Good-bye." "Good-bye." Oh. my heavens! Robin thought as she replaced the receiver. She was meeting Jeff in the courtyard? What an idiotic thing to do. She didn't even know the man! He could be . . . strange. No, this was Jeff. Besides what could happen at ten o'clock in the morning in broad daylight? A helluva lot, that's what. Dumb. She'd made a date with a voice on the phone. Really, really dumb. But, dammit, it was Jeffrey Webster, Attorney- at-Law, the man on the bench . . . her fantasy lover. Lord, she wouldn't start thinking about that part. He was simply a fellow occupant of her office complex with whom she had chosen to share a coffee break. That sounded much better. He did have a nice voice. It sort of stroked her, like velvet and "Knock it off," she said aloud as a warmth crept onto her cheeks. "A can of soda does not a love affair make." "Pardon me?" Denise said, poking her head in the door.

"Ignore me. I'm having a nervous breakdown." Denise nodded. "Got it."

Jeff laced his fingers together behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. Robin had known who he was as soon as he'd said his first name. It was almost as though she had been expecting his call. Interesting. So, come ten o'clock Monday morning he would meet Robin Kent, the lady in the window, and "Mr. Webster, it's about Mr. Kischer," Lois said from the doorway. "Lord, I forgot," Jeff said, getting to his feet and grabbing his jacket. "Show him in." "Right," she said, eyeing Jeff warily. "That boy definitely needs a vacation," she decided firmly.

By the time Robin let herself into her apartment that night, she was fuming ... at herself. She had behaved like a star-struck kid ever since Jeff Webster had telephoned, and she was thoroughly dis-gusted. Denise had had to call her three times on the intercom to get her to take a call. Then she had headed out to lunch, only to discover she had left her purse in the desk drawer. The topper had been when she had tried to give a typing test to a burly truck driver, who had scratched his head and said that as far as he knew there were no typewriters in the cabs of eighteen-wheelers. It had been, in short, ridiculous. Never, ever again in her life, she vowed, would she fantasize about a stranger! Never! What was no more than a proposed fifteen-minute meeting with a pleasant man in the middle of the morning was turning into the major happening of the year simply because she had spent mental time with the guy beforehand.

She had the weekend to get a grip on herself, to erase all previous fabrications from her mind, and view the situation realistically. She would do it, of course, and greet Jeff with a cheerful expression and make idle chitchat. In the meantime, she scolded herself for her childish behavior as she pulled on her jogging shorts and top and headed back out the door. The October air was crisp and invigorating, and Robin glanced at the sky, deciding she could get in a half-hour run before the last streaks of the glorious desert sunset disappeared and night staked its claim on the world. She headed up Campbell Avenue at a steady pace, crossed the bridge at the Rillito Creek, with its parched earth below, and circled the parking lot of St. Phillip's in the Hills Church, at the top of the incline. A priest gave her a friendly wave, and Robin smiled weakly before sprinting away. Robin retraced her path and jogged into a shopping mall, averting her eyes from a French bakery and settling for a frozen-yogurt cone, to which she gave serious attention as she slowly walked home. She definitely felt better, she decided. Jeff Webster had no knowledge of her asinine mind games, and she would simply treat him in a friendly way. She'd ask him about his career as a lawyer, discuss the football scores of the weekend games, and that would be that. If he whipped out pictures of the wife and kiddies, she'd punch him in the chops and go back to work. Nothing to it. Back in her apartment, Robin showered and shampooed her hair. After she blow-dried it, it became a shining, swirling darkness that brushed the tops of her bare shoulders as she sat at her vanity, wrapped in a fluffy towel. Leaning closer to the mirror, she frowned at her reflection. Her collarbones stuck out. Why hadn't she noticed that before? And her nose! No wonder she had been labeled cute for so long. It sort of tweaked up at the end, detracting from her nicely shaped lips. But who would notice her pretty mouth once anyone zeroed in on her tweaky nose? The eyes were great. Big and gray and changing color slightly with what she wore. Maybe if she batted her eyelashes she could keep someone's gaze directed at her gorgeous orbs instead of her nose.

Someone? Who was she kidding? She was viewing herself as Jeff Webster was going to. She shook her head in frustration. She was doing it again, allowing him into her private space. And this time all she had on was a towel! If he were truly there, she thought, the fluffy towel would be pulled away from her lemon-scented body and she would be pulled against a rock-hard chest. A head, covered with thick, tousled hair, would lower to claim her luscious lips in a kiss that would be sensuous beyond description. Caution would be thrown tothe wind as muscular arms lifted her and carried her to the bed, where "Cripe!" Robin said as she jumped to her feet, causing the towel to drop to the floor. She ignored the heat of desire that tingled in the pit of her stomach and the strange sensations in her breasts as she stomped to the dresser and pulled out clean underwear. Jeffrey Webster was rude! He absolutely refused to stay on his bench, where he belonged, and he was definitely getting on her nerves. She'd go make herself two enormous hamburgers and forget the pushy guy. But, damn, he had a sexy voice. He really did not play fair!

Swimming in his pool as if a shark were in hot pursuit, Jeff Webster was not overly fond of Robin Kent at that moment either. The afternoon had been a grueling series of nonstop appointments and intricate, detailed legal matters. Frank Kischer had not been overwhelmed by Jeff's brilliance when asked to sign once again documents on which he had just placed his signature. Robin's lilting voice had echoed through Jeff's head the entire day, and he was going to stay in the pool until he drowned it! If only he hadn't envisioned her clad in a filmy nightgown. That had been a terrible mistake. But Robin didn't know about his obscene mental escapades. He'd be Mr. Cool on Monday morning, hand her a can of soda, and ask her opinion on the state of the economy or something equally inane. Maybe he should get a haircut. For Pete's sake, he'd just had one last week! As of this minute he was blanking Robin Kent from his mind. He'd spend the weekend relaxing, for a change. He needed the rest. Carol said he looked

awful, was getting age lines next to his eyes from overwork. Did he appear older than thirty-six? No, he was in great shape, not an ounce of fat on his body, and still tipped the scales at an even two hundred pounds, as he had in college. There was absolutely nothing wrong with Jeffrey Webster, and if Robin Kent didn't like what she saw, that was her problem. He just wished she'd get the hell out of his pool!

Saturday morning dawned sunny and clear, and Robin once again started off on her traditional run. She treated herself to a French pastry at the mall. The remainder of the day was spent shopping for groceries, cleaning her apartment, and doing the rest of her laundry. The thought of Jeff Webster and the Monday rendezvous popped up occasionally, but she immediately dismissed it each time, deciding she was now fully in control of the situation and the nutsy nonsense was behind her. She'd go holler her head off at the football game and have a wonderful time. Maybe Eric would surprise her and have developed a sparkling personality since she had seen him the previous Saturday. No, there was no such thing as a miracle.

At four o'clock Jeff frowned as he reached for the ringing telephone. He had forgotten to switch on his answering machine, and if this was that flaky woman whose divorce he had handled last month calling again, he'd . . . "Hello?" "Jeff? Carol." "Greetings." "Ryan had to go out of town at the last minute and I'm sitting here with two tickets to the U of A game. Be a peach and take me." "Carol, you know how I feel about football."

"I have never been able to understand your attitude. You played it for four years at Stanford and haven't been to a game since." "I had my fill and then some. It holds absolutely no appeal." "Just this once? Please, Jeff?" "No, Carol. Ask one of your girlfriends to go with you. I'm staying home tonight and watching a Shakespeare play on PBS. I've been looking forward to it all day. Football, as they say, is not my bag." "Rats. Oh, Lois gave me the number of the material you selected for your drapes. Nice choice. I'm impressed." "You doubted that I had superb taste? Shame on you." "Sony, brother dear. Well, I'll try to round up a football fan for tonight. You're such a dud sometimes." "Good-bye, Carol." "Ta-ta, Jeff." As he headed for the kitchen, he absently wondered what kind of drapes he was getting. He'd probably hate them.

Robin, dressed in blue slacks and a pale-blue sweater, opened the door to a smiling Eric. "Hello, Eric," she said. "Come in." She predicted he'd say, You look lovely this evening. Robin. "Thank you. You look lovely this evening, Robin." "Thanks." She had to quit doing that! she told herself. She was going to end up speaking Eric's line out loud, and that would really hurt his feelings. He

was about to say, "Shall we go? You know how crowded it will be." Robin had the irrational thought that it would be music to her ears if Eric said something really racy, like, "Let's haul our tushes out of this place, chick." Oh, well. "Shall we go?" Eric said. "You know" "Gosh, Eric, do you think it will be crowded?" Not nice. Definitely bitchy. "Of course, I mean ... Is something wrong, Robin?" "No, I'm sorry. Shall we go?" Fifty thousand people obviously agreed with Robin that the game was a thriller. The volume of the cheering crowd was tremendous, and Robin screamed for her Wildcats until she was hoarse. The home team won with a field goal in the last three seconds, and Robin was giddy with excitement. She chattered her way through the pizza and beer she shared with Eric at a pub afterward, and it wasn't until they were once more in her apartment that she realized he had been unusually subdued all evening. "Eric, are you feeling all right?" she asked as she brought a tray with coffee and cookies into the living room. "Yes, I'm fine, but I would like to talk to you." "Sure," she said, sitting next to him on the sofa. "Robin, we've been seeing a great deal of each other over these past months, and I've grown very fond of you." "You have?" Uh-oh. There was trouble brewing. "No, it's more than that. I'm in love with you!" "You are?" He was? "I want to many you."

"You do?" Oh, Lord, no! "Robin, say yes. We'll have a wonderful life together. We have so much in common, with our love of sports. You could help me with my lesson plansyou obviously have a head for math, since you run your own business." "But..." Her accountant handled all that junk. She couldn't even balance her checkbook! "We'll share everything. Well be married during Christmas break from school and" "Eric, wait! I can'tI mean . . . Look, I admire you very much and I certainly enjoy your company, but. . ." "You're not in love with me," he said miserably. "No, I'm not," Robin said softly. "I'm very sorry if I hurt you. I had no idea you felt this way. Couldn't we just go on being friends?" "That's impossible. I'd better leave, Robin. I think it's best if I don't see you anymore. If you change your mind, call me. Good-bye." "Oh, my," Robin said as Eric closed the door behind him. "I never meant for him to fall in love with me. Poor Eric. I'm so rotten." No, she thought, it wasn't her fault that their feelings hadn't headed in the same direction. But he had looked so dejected. Well, he was a grown man and was capable of moving on to greener pastures. Surely there was a woman out there who wanted a neat-nick guy who probably folded his socks before he made love. Eric would find someone else in no time at all. But what about herself? Robin wondered. Who was going to take her to the football game next week? This was just a fine kettle of fish. Why couldn't Eric have fallen in love with her after the football season? "Dammit," she said, and went to bed.

Jeff Webster played eighteen holes of golf at Silverbell Golf Course early Sunday morning with one of his lawyer buddies and listened to a blow-byblow account of the U of A football game the previous night. "It was great, Jeff," his friend said. "That kid has a magic toe. Pulled it out with a field goal with three seconds to go." "Wonderful," Jeff muttered. "Your ball just went in the sand trap." Later in the afternoon, for want of something better to do, Jeff wandered through the Foothills Mall and bought himself several new shirts and ties. He spent the remainder of the day by his pool, alternating between swimming and reading a book on the history of the old West. He prided himself on having pushed Robin Kent decisively to the back of his mind, and his fleeting thoughts of their forthcoming meeting only surfaced approximately once an hour. He had the ridiculous situation totally under control. He awoke refreshed on Monday morning and thought, since he had the new shirts, why not wear one? He selected a yellow one, a brown-and- yellow striped tie, and his three-piece brown suit. Since Mondays were no one's favorite day of the week, he rationalized, it didn't hurt to dress extra sharp to boost one's morale.

Robin had spent her Sunday glued to the television, rooting for the Dallas Cowboys and the Los Angeles Rams in back-to-back football games. She thought of Eric Marshall once and decided the parting of the ways was for the best. She thought of Jeffrey Webster often and frowned. On Monday morning she considered the clothes hanging in her closet for a long time. October in the desert was a difficult time for selecting apparel, since the mornings and evenings were cool and crisp, while the afternoons were still quite warm. It was only natural, she told herself, that she should spend just a little longer deciding what to wear.

She chose a burnt-orange silk blouse that complemented her shiny dark hair, and a lightweight wool orange-and-browrf flared skirt that hugged her hips nicely before falling in soft folds at mid- calf. She added her brown pumps with the three- inch heels and a matching purse and arrived at work precisely on time. "Nice outfit, Miss Kent," Denise said when Robin entered the office. "Thanks, it's comfortable." "I'll start my morning calls. Let's hope all our people showed up where they were assigned." "They did. It's too nice a day for anything to go wrong," Robin said. "My, you're chipper." "It's a new week, which means . . . it's a new week," Robin said, hurrying into her office. "Huh?"

Jeff poured two cups of coffee and placed one in front of Lois. "Am I being bribed?" she asked. "Of course not. I'm just a pleasant person. By the way, don't schedule anything for ten o'clock." "I wouldn't dream of it." "Aren't you going to ask why?" "Nope." "Good," Jeff said, and strode into his office.

"He could go to the Bahamas," Lois said to no one, "or Hawaii, or a rest farm somewhere." As ten o'clock slowly approached, Jeff started to wear a path in his carpet with long, heavy steps. He wasn't nervous about the meeting with Robin, and it was ridiculous to imagine he was. It was just that for the last half hour the image of her standing before him in a sheer nightgown had continually danced before his eyes. Dammit, why now? he thought. He was about to head for the courtyard, when what he needed was a cold shower! "Damn," he said as he passed Lois's desk on his way out. "I'll be glad when this is over with! It's the dumbest thing I've ever done." "If he'd been drinking, I'd smell liquor on his breath," Lois said. "Wouldn't I?"

Robin stepped into the small bathroom off her office, ran a comb through her hair, and freshened her frosted-oranged-toned lipstick. Why? Why? Why did she keep thinking of Jeff Webster as a shadowy figure walking toward her and pulling her against his strong chest? She had been sure all those looney thoughts were gone, and there they were again, just before the bit on the bench. Wonderful. Well, she'd pass off the flush on her cheeks as a sunburn and he'd never know the difference. She was going to chug-a-lug that soda in four gulps and get the hell out of there! "I'll be back in a few minutes," Robin said to Denise as she walked to the outer door. "You're going out?" "Not for long," she mumbled.

Jeff set the two cans of soda on the bench and sat down, automatically reaching for the knot on his tie. No, he thought, he should leave it alone

today. He didn't want to look like a slob. He'd left his jacket in the office, which was fine, since sitting on a bench didn't call for being dressed to the hilt. And there she was, walking across the courtyard! Yes, she was tall and she moved with a gracefulness that almost made it appear as though she were floating. Jeff suddenly realized that he was standing and had no idea when he had gotten to his feet. He could see her features now. Lovely, absolutely lovely. "Hello, Jeff," Robin said softly, extending her hand. Oh, Lord, she thought, he was gorgeous! His eyes reminded her of chocolate chips, and she loved chocolate chips. His face was so rugged and masculine. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen. "Robin," Jeff said quietly, taking her hand in his large one. Beautiful eyes, he thought. Sparkling, clear. And that nose! It was adorable. It sort of tipped up at the end, pixielike. Man, how long had he been holding her hand? "WOuld you care to sit down?" he asked, gesturing toward the bench. "Certainly," Robin said, settling on the bench and crossing her legs. Had she left her hand in his for an unreasonable length of time? she wondered frantically. She didn't know! She had been mesmerized by those chocolate-chip eyes. "I should have brought out some glasses," Jeff said. "The can is fine. How do you like your new office? I mean, I assumed you just moved in, because I haven't seen you until . . . recently." What a fumble-mouth! "It's very nice. My sister is decorating it. She even chased me out here the other day to nag me about drape samples." Had Robin gotten that? The woman was his sister! "Oh, really?" Robin said, smiling brightly. His sister! Hooray! "Did you have a nice weekend?"

"Wonderful!" she said. "Oh?" With who? "During football season I'm in seventh heaven. Did you see the U of A game Saturday night?" "Field goal in the last three seconds," Jeff said. "Exciting." A football nut! Oh, his aching back. "Wasn't it, though? Dallas played terrifically yesterday, but the Rams were a mess. Did you play ball? You have the, um, physique for it." "Four years at Stamford." "Then you're a real fan." "Well..." "I go crazy at the games," Robin said cheerfully. "I exhaust myself." "Your eyes sparkle when you smile, Robin," Jeff said softly. Had he said that? Had he honest to God said that? "They do?" Had he really said that? "Yes. I think I should tell you that I've been watching you standing in your window for two weeks now. I've really been looking forward to this morning." Had someone slipped a truth serum into his soda can? What in the hell was he doing? "I saw you, too, Jeff, but I had no idea you knew I was there. I guess we both were playing 'I Spy.' " She laughed softly. Oh, Lord, how embarrassing. He had seen her all that time. She was blushing. She could feel the heat on her cheeks. "I didn't know women still did that," he said, smiling.

"Did what?" "Blushed. I like it. Robin Kent, will you have dinner with me tonight?" What? "I'd be delighted, Jeff Webster." Dinner? "Are you in the phone book?" "Yes, and it's apartment five-twelve." "Seven o'clock?" "Fine. I don't usually go out with men I don't know, Jeff, but we'll pretend we met a couple of weeks ago when we were doing our Peeping Tom and Jane number." "Fair enough." He chuckled, the sound rich and throaty and sending a funny sensation down Robin's spine. "I really should go back," she said, getting to her feet. She didn't want to go! "So soon?" Jeff said, rising to join her. Ten more minutes? Five? "Yes. II'm glad we met, Jeff. I'll see you tonight." What was her hand doing in his again? she thought. How had it gotten there, and was he actually stroking it with his thumb? Yes, he was! And her heart was racing as though she'd jogged around the St. Phillip's parking lot thirty-five times! "Until tonight," he said. He had to give her her hand back before he scared her to death! " 'Bye," Robin said, turning and walking slowly toward the building. "Yeah, "bye," Jeff said, shoving his hands into his pockets. He didn't move. He just stood there until she disappeared from view, and then he tossed the soda cans in the trash barrel.

Lois opened her mouth to speak as Jeff entered the office, then gave up the idea of communicating with him. He had a frown on his face and seemed lost in his own thoughts.

She was going out to dinner with Jeff Webster, Robin thought, back in her own office. With Jeff Webster, she was going out to dinner. She was also going out of her mind! Her legs had barely carried her back into the building, and she felt slightly dizzy as she sank into her chair. He was everything she had imagined, and more. He oozed masculinity. Dripped sexuality. Emanated virility. He was incredible. Robin had never been knocked so off balance by a man. When he held her hand, warmth had traveled through her entire body, and she had totally lost track of time when she gazed into his eyes. Those damnable chocolate-chip eyes! He was a danger to her equilibrium, and if she was smart she'd leave town. But since she was a dumb-dumb she'd go out to dinner with him. Oh, dear, what had she gotten herself into?

Jeff sat down, got up, then sat down again as he wiped a fine line of perspiration off his forehead with his thumb. Nothing had escaped him. Not Robin's silky hair, or her delicate features, or the firm breasts pushing against the soft material of her blouse had gone by unnoticed. He loved the way she laughed, and how she looked directly at him when she spoke. Something, like a time warp, had happened when he gazed into those beautiful gray eyes, and it had been disconcerting, to say the least. When she had stood to leave he had had the irrational thought that he absolutely, positively did not want her to go! Whew! Robin Kent was quite a woman. But why did she have to like football so much? He had bluffed his way through the conversation about the U of A game, but he really hated football. He did enjoy eating, though, and he was taking her out to dinner. In about eight hours or so he'd knock on her door, she'd open it, and he'd . . . He'd be a perfect gentleman the entire evening, because there was no wayno way!he was going to upset Miss Robin Kent of Kent's Temps.

*** The day, Robin decided as she drove home, had been three weeks long. The hours had crept by with agonizing slowness, and she was none too happy that she was behaving like someone who had a date for the senior prom. Dinner was simply a meal that was consumed at the end of one's workday, and was not an earth-shattering event. Oh, ha! Food nibbled upon while sitting across the table from Jeffrey Webster would be a happening! Drinking a soda with the man had been an experience in itself, let alone soup, salad, the whole nine yards. He was so good-looking, and she obviously had passed his inspection too. Had her nose gotten demerits, though, during his scrutiny, which had been thorough yet subtle? Apparently not. She'd done all right, tweaky nose included. And Jeff? Just nice, nice, nice. And he had even played football. That was so great! He must live and breathe the game. She could picture the cozy Sundays they could spend together watching the big dudes kill each other on the tube. Halt! she commanded herself. No more fantasies about Jeff Webster. From now on everything would be on the up and up. He wasn't the man on the bench, an extension of her imagination. He was real. Brother, was he ever. So why wasn't a hunk of stuff like that snagged by now, married and bouncing babies on his knee? Was he a misogynist? Hardly. Those were well-trained, appreciative brown eyes that had roamed over her. What was his flaw? The spoke in the wheel? The fly in the soup? What was wrong with this guy? So far, nothing. Robin soaked in a leisurely lemony-scented bubble bath, then stood under the shower to shampoo her hair. She blow-dried and brushed it until it shone, then slipped on her dress. It was a teal-blue silk creation that scooped to just above her full breasts and nipped in at the waist with a sash. The skirt was street-length and full, falling in soft folds. She added sheer stockings and thin-strapped evening sandals and decided she didn't look half bad. In fact, she was rather striking, in a wholesome sort of way. Except for her nose, of course. Her nose, she decided, was a genetic throwback. No one else in her family had such a dippy proboscis.

By six-fifteen Robin was ready. By six-thirty she was slightly nervous. At six-forty-five she considered calling her mother in Prescott and inviting herself for dinner, despite the fact that it was a four-hour drive. When a knock sounded at six- fifty-five, Robin jumped up from the sofa so quickly, her shoes nearly fell off. Taking a steadying breath, she walked slowly to the door and opened it with, she hoped, a pleasant expression on her face. "Come in, Jeff," she said, stepping back to allow him to enter. Be still, my heart, she thought dramatically. But she meant it! His dark suit had an expensive sheen, and the shoulders holding up the jacket were a block wide. Jeffs thick hair was combed over his ears, and the gleaming white shirt he wore accentuated his deep tan. The man just didn't quit! "You're beautiful in that dress, Robin," Jeff said softly. "Your eyes look blue tonight, instead of gray, like they did this morning." He wanted to kiss her, he thought. He needed to kiss her. He was going to kiss her! "I'm about to kiss you, Robin Kent," he said. "Oh." Oh? Just "oh"? Jeff cupped Robin's face in his large hands and slowly, slowly lowered his head. He brushed his lips across hers in a motion so fleeting that Robin wondered for a split second if her imagination was acting up again. But in the next instant the kiss intensified into the sweetest, most sensuous embrace she had ever experienced. Her hands slid up the chest that was Indeed as rock-hard as she had known it would be, as Jeffs tongue flickered against hers. Desire surged through her as Jeff continued to explore the dark regions of her mouth, and a roaring noise echoed in her ears. Jeff suddenly lifted his head and looked anxiously at Robin's flushed face. Had he blown it? he wondered. Was she going to throw him out on his ear? What in the hell had happened to the perfect gentleman he was going to be? But she was a vision of loveliness, and he hadShe was smiling! Thank God. "Robin?" "Yes?"

"I think..." "Yes?" "You have the prettiest nose I've ever seen."

CHAPTER THREE "Pardon me?" Robin gasped, her eyes widening. "You do!" Jeff said, backing away from her slightly. "Don't misunderstand. I don't have a nose fetish, or anything weird like that, but I just had to tell you. It's adorable. You have an adorable nose." "You're kidding." She placed her fingertip on the end of the subject matter. "No, I'm very serious, and I thought you should know. Do you want to bring a coat? It's a little chilly out." "Yes, I'll get it," she said, heading for the bedroom. He liked her tweaky nose? Wasn't that just the sweetest thing in the world? And that kiss! She had nearly died on the spot. Splat! Right out on the floor. When Jeff Webster announced he was going to kiss a person, he meant it! In spades! But she was going to have to be careful. Jeff obviously was no slouch when it came to charm . . . and action. She must not give him the impression that a kiss at the beginning of the evening meant falling into bed with him at the end of the evening. "All set," she said, coming back into the living room. Jeff held her lightweight coat as she slipped her arms into it, and he caught a fresh, lemony aroma. It was as clean as the outdoors, and he nodded slightly in approval. Robin wouldn't like a heavy perfume, he thought, would want something light, natural. Everything about her was understated, her simple hairdo, which created a swinging cascade, her makeup, the unaffected lines of her dress. But all put together she had an aura of elegance and grace. When he had kissed her, her lips had been soft and sweet and warm. He had felt her respond, yet there had been a slight restraint, as though she would let herself go only to a point. And that was how it should be. Robin was a lady in every sense of the word. She wasn't like some of the floozies he had dated, who were all over him from the onset of the evening. Robin locked the door behind them, and they headed for the elevator. Robin greeted one of her neighbors who passed them in the corridor, Jeff mentally pictured the sports page of the newspaper he had propped on his bed while

he was getting dressed. Dallas had won. The Rams had lost. The Raiders had lost. The Washington Redskins had . . . Damn, he couldn't remember! "Who do you think will go to the Super Bowl?" Robin asked as they rode down in the elevator. "Well..." Hell, he didn't care. "It's a little early to say." "True, but I always root for Dallas no matter what. They're my all-time favorite team. They look great so far." "They won yesterday." "They killed'em!" "Dallas has ... a lot of style," Jeff said. Style. That was a nice, safe description. "I couldn't have said it better myself." Robin smiled. "You do know your football, Jeff." "I try." He was doing pretty good now, considering he didn't know what in the heck he was talking about. Better change the subject while he was still ahead. "Have you owned Kent's Temps, long?" "Two years. It's been a great deal of hard work, but it's finally paying off, and I'm very pleased. What type of law do you practice?" "A little bit of everything. I mostly negotiate contracts, iron out the details and fine print." "So you're responsible for all that legal jargon on the documents I use between my temporary help and our clients." "Hey, if we didn't slip in all those fancy words, you wouldn't need a lawyer to decipher them and charge you an enormous fee, and I couldn't live in the manner to which I've become accustomed."

"Makes sense to me." Robin laughed, and the lilting sound brought an instant smile to Jeff's face. Outside in the crisp air, Jeff led Robin to his low- slung silver sports car and opened the door for her. She glanced around the plush interior, her mind racing as Jeff came around and slid behind the wheel. What was this thing? A Trans Am? Ferrari? A Chevy Something-or-other? She could never keep cars straight, and she really should comment as though she knew exactly what it was. "This is a marvelous car," she said finally. Oh, how brilliant. "Little flashy, maybe, but I've wanted to own a Corvette since I was a kid, so I indulged myself," Jeff said, roaring the engine into action. "I think the Corvette has sleeker lines than . . . the others." "I'm glad you approve," he said, edging out into the traffic. Robin had an opinion on cars, he thought with amazement. Unique. Carol figured if it had four tires and a steering wheel, that was enough. "I made reservations at El Conquistador," he continued. "They have a gourmet cook there who's sensational." "Lovely," Robin said. Oh, no, she thought. She hated gourmet food, with those weird sauces, and names you couldn't pronounce. She liked steak and potatoes, hamburgers and fries, greasy tacos and salsa, pizza and beer. A great big man like Jeff liked all that fancy stuff instead of a juicy T-bone? Oh, pooh! Jeff drove up Oracle Road, commanding the powerful car with ease. The lights of the city twinkled below them as they reached the top of the hill and passed the outskirts of Oro Valley, the prestigious small community on the edge of town. El Conquistador came into view, looking like an oasis in the desert, with its stately buildings and immaculate grounds. The hotel housed several restaurants of various styles, and Robin had been to the rustic western-styled one with Eric. They had sat at rough-hewn tables, eaten juicy steaks and baked beans, and danced the Western Swing to a band that had played and sung all of Robin's country favorites.

Jeff pulled into a parking place by the main building and came around to open the car door for Robin. She glanced longingly down an incline to the old-fashioned wooden building that housed the steak house, then smiled up at Jeff. He took her elbow and led her into the plush lobby of the hotel. "It's certainly elegant," Robin said. "Tucson has never had anything quite so impressive before." Suddenly Jeff stopped completely, nearly causing Robin to fall out of her shoes again as she came to a halt beside him. "Listen to that," he said. "It's beautiful." She glanced up at him quickly to see where his attention was directed, and realized he was gazing at a harpist who was playing in a small lounge off the lobby. Robin's mouth opened in amazement when Jeff closed his eyes as if drinking in the music. The harpist could have been tuning up, for all Robin knew. It just seemed like a bunch of noise to her, but Jeff obviously thought it was terrific. An ex-jock who liked classical music? Classical? Oh, good heavens, how grim. What about good ol' foot-stompin', toe-tappin' country-western? "Beautiful, beautiful," Jeff said, seeming to come out of a trance. "I had no idea that harpist was out here, or we could have come earlier. We'd better go, though, or they might not hold our table." Praise the Lord, Robin thought. That music was reminding her of a funeral. They were seated at a table by a bank of windows that afforded a spectacular view of the city lights below, and Jeff immediately ordered a wine whose name he rattled off in authentic-sounding French. He made a thorough production of rolling a sip of the liquid around his tongue, then nodded his approval. Robin had the distinct impression that if there had been anything wrong with that wine, Jeff would have known it in an instant. The menu offered a wide selection of items whose names gave absolutely no clue as to what they were. "It's hard to decide." Jeff said. "I think I'll try something I haven't cooked myself."

"You're a gourmet cook?" This was getting worse by the moment. "It's a hobby of mine. I thoroughly enjoy it. What would you like to have?""I'll be very reckless and let you order for me. It all sounds so, um, delicious, I'll never be able to make up my mind." Wiggled out of that one all right. When the waiter appeared, Jeff gave some rather lengthy instructions and then refilled Robin's wineglass. Their conversation consisted of filling each other in on their families, their attachment to the city of Tucson, and the perfect weather they were having. It was comfortable and friendly and had no awkward moments of silence where neither found anything to say. Suddenly a plate was set in front of Robin, and she stared down at it in horror. It was a fish! With a head! And its eyeball was looking right at her! It was so revolting, she couldn't believe it. "Shall I remove the head for you, madam?" the waiter asked. "Yes, please," she said weakly. Take the whole thing out of there and bring her a hamburger! "Ah, almond slivers," Jeff said. "I really am going to have to try making this. I like the consistency of the hollandaise on the broccoli too. Mine is always too thick. Is anything wrong, Robin? You're not eating." "What? Oh, no, it's delicious," she said, shoveling in a bite of the flaky fish. Do not think about the eyeball, she instructed herself. Erase it from your mind! Broccoli? She used to feed it to the dog under the table when her mother wasn't looking. That was probably why that dog ran away. Well, she'd just chew and swallow and think about something else. Like, for instance, the fact that she was sitting across the table from the most blatantly sensual man she had ever met. There were different shades of color in his thick hair, and it was almost blond in places. His tan meant he enjoyed the outdoors, just like she did. Jogging? Tennis? So ask! "What sports do you play, Jeff? Your tan tells me you spend time outside."

"I swim. Golf a little." "And?" "That's it. You? You have a healthy glow yourself." "Tennis and jogging." "Do you like to swim? I have a good-sized pool at my home." "I never learned to swim, but I float pretty well." Heavens, a swimmer. She panicked if she stood in a shower too long, and the smell of chlorine plugged up her sinus cavities. But Jeff was hinting at an invitation to his house. Maybe she could get some water wings. "Do you jog regularly?" he asked. He hated running. He'd had enough of that in his football days. It gave him muscle cramps in his calves and the sweat dripped off him like rain. Robin probably wore cute little shorts. If they didn't go in the heat of the day, it wouldn't be so bad. A short run together, then a dip in the pool. Great. And just picture Robin Kent in a bikini. No, don't. This was a public place. Thoughts like that were dangerous, and he couldn't order a cold shower for dessert. Speaking of which, Robin didn't seem to have much of an appetite. Maybe she was watching her weight. He'd watch her figure, every chance he got. Easy, Webster. He was playing mind games again. "I jog as often as I can," Robin said, "and my girlfriend and I play tennis over at Reid Park. I get lazy during football season, though, because I watch the games on television." "Would you be free to go to the U of A game with me Saturday night, Robin?" Dammit! Where had that come from? He didn't want to go to that thing! She smiled happily. "I'd be delighted." Bless you, Eric. May you find the woman of your dreams.

"Good. I'm sure we'll have a, ahem, fun evening. Would you care for some dessert? They make an excellent cheesecake." "Yes, please." About six slices. She was starving, but she couldn't choke down another bite of that stuff. If only that fish hadn't looked at her with that god-awful eyeball! The dessert was consumed with steaming cups of coffee, and back-and-forth questions about colleges attended and childhood days were asked. "There's a band in one of the small ballrooms tonight," Jeff said finally. "Shall we move in there and dance?" "Fine." The ballroom had been decorated to project an aura of intimacy, with subdued lighting and small tables and chairs surrounding the highly polished dance floor. Jeff led Robin to a table, ordered drinks from a passing waitress, and immediately stood again and extended his hand. A moment later Robin was swept into his strong arms, and he moved her expertly across the floor in perfect time to the soft music. Her senses seemed to become strangely alert as she was held in Jeff s embrace. She caught the faint aroma of a musky after-shave she had not been aware of earlier, could smell the heady wine, and was sure there was a lingering scent of soap. Her fingertips lightly caressed the fine material of his jacket, and she became conscious of the corded muscles beneath. The heat from his hand resting on her back seemed to creep through her body, creating havoc as it went. She could feel desire begin to stir deep within her. Jeff cradled her hand in his and brought it forward to his chest, where she felt the steady beating of his heart. Strong thighs moved against her and Robin swallowed heavily, knowing her cheeks were flushed and warm. What this man was doing to her was beyond belief! They were only dancing, for Pete's sake, and her knees were turning into jelly. Her reactions were not the product of her imagination, they were real. . . and almost frightening.

Everything seemed magnified, out of proportion to reality. Was Jeff really this tall and strong, smelling this good, actually this handsome and warm and fun? Oh, yes. He was all those things and more. He made her incredibly glad she was a woman, so she could fit perfectly into the hard contours of his body. She felt soft, feminine, and pretty, even her nose. Liberation be damned, she was safe in his arms, protected . . . cherished. She was floating in a mindless daze, and she didn't care. She was with Jeffrey Webster, and everything was lovely. Jeff, meanwhile, was drinking in the fragrance of the silky cloud of Robin's hair, and edged her even closer to his body. She felt more fragile than she appeared, and he became intensely aware of his own strength. He was capable of crushing her with his bare hands, but knew his touch would be infinitely gentle, as though he were holding fine china. Robin's full breasts were pressed against his chest, and he relished the sensation. Robin's femininity was bringing into crystal clarity the extent of his own masculinity. Where he was rugged and sharp, she molded against him with whisper softness. A muscle twitched in his jaw as he thought of the possibility of anyone's ever hurting this delicate creature, causing her pain or making her cry. There would be no tears shed by Robin Kent while he was around, he vowed. She would only laugh that lilting laugh, and he would smile in return. Lord, she felt good. He shifted her gently away from him with the pretense of avoiding bumping into another couple as a shaft of fiery desire shot through his body. Damn! If she moved close to him again she'd know how aroused he was, and she'd probably sock him in the gut and stomp off the floor. He had to think about something, anything, other than what this woman was doing to him! Talk to her, Webster! "Robin, did you know that there are more boats per capita in Arizona than any other state?" Dear heaven, had that come out of his mouth? Boats? "How nice," Robin said dreamily. Was Jeff suddenly talking about boats? she thought. "Forget it," he growled. "Let's go back to the table and have our drinks."

She looked up at him in surprise, then walked to their table and sat down on the velvet-covered chair. "Is something wrong?" she asked. "No, I just got a little . . . warm out there." "Oh." Too bad, she thought. "When you played football at Stanford, were you any good?" she asked. "Average. Is your drink all right?" "It's fine. What position did you play?" "Split end. That band is excellent." "Yes. Did you catch a lot of passes?" "My share. You're an excellent dancer, Robin." "Thank you. Jeff, do you realize we are carrying on two entirely different conversations at the same time? Is there some reason you don't want to discuss your football career?" "It was a long time ago, Robin, and I only played because it got me a scholarship so I could go to Stanford." "You were that great?" "No! I mean, yeah, I guess so. I didn't have the money for college, and it was a means to an end. Do you know what happens to receivers when they catch the ball? They get hit, hard. I spent four years feeling like I had been run over by a train. It does not make up some of my fonder memories." "I never thought about that part of it. It's all so exciting and . . . It's really brutal, isn't it?"

"Oh, I don't know. Some guys love it, but I viewed it as a job I had to do. I had the ability, but not the desire. Like I said, it got me my degree, so I have no complaints. I gave the coaches a hundred-percent effort, so we came out even. When it was over, I put it out of my mind. IWhy am I dumping all this on you? I've never talked to anyone about it before." "Maybe because I'm listening," Robin said softly. "Yes, you do that very well," Jeff said. Their eyes met and held for a long moment, neither one speaking, hardly even breathing. Jeff reached across the table and grasped Robin's hand, gently stroking it with his thumb. "You are so lovely, Robin," he said finally, his voice hushed. And he had never in his life desired a woman the way he did her, he added silently. "I'm very glad you chose that bench to sit on, Jeff." "Will you meet me there tomorrow morning at ten?" "Yes." "I suppose I should be getting you home, since it's a weeknight. Alarms have a way of going off very early." "That's true." She smiled and slowly retrieved her hand, immediately missing the warmth of Jeff's touch. Outside, the sky was an umbrella of twinkling stars. Robin didn't resist when Jeff circled her shoulders with his arm and pulled her close to his side. He shortened his stride to match hers and took the long way around to the parking lot, as if not wishing to end the enchanting evening. They talked about a variety of subjects during the ride back into town, then grew silent in the elevator in Robin's apartment building. Robin handed Jeff her key to unlock her door. He closed it behind them when they entered the living room. Robin slipped off her coat and draped it over a chair.

"Coffee?" she asked. "No, thanks. I really should let you get some sleep. Tonight was very special, Robin. Thank you for sharing it with me." "It was lovely. I can't remember when I've had such a nice evening." "When I came in here tonight, Robin, I made a grand announcement that I was going to kiss you. I usually don't state my intentions like that, but I didn't want to frighten you in any way. I still don't. So I'm going to tell you again that I am about to take you in my arms and kiss you for a very long time." She smiled. "Does that statement require a reply?" "Nothing verbal," he said, cupping her face in his hands. "No talking is necessary." He lowered his head, and she parted her lips to receive his flickering tongue, which sent instant shock waves of desire through her body. He dropped his hands to her waist and pulled her tightly against his rugged length. Robin circled his neck with her arms, inching her fingers into his thick hair. The kiss intensified as their mouths moved urgently against each other's. Jeff's hands roamed slowly upward, coming to rest at the sides of her breasts. His thumbs trailed across the nipples, which grew taut under his maddening touch. Robin leaned further into the hard contours of Jeff's frame, a soft moan escaping from deep within her throat. He lifted his head slightly, drawing a ragged breath, and she saw the desire radiating from the dark pools of his eyes. Again he claimed her mouth, and their passion grew, Robin feeling the evidence of Jeff's arousal pressing against her thigh. How she wanted him! All of him. He was evoking desires within her she had not known she could feel, and a flame of passion was running rampant through her. He was offering something she did not comprehend yet knew she must have. But no, it was too soon, too fast, and the mental anguish she would suffer if she succumbed to her feelings of the moment would destroy

any chance of tomorrow with Jeff. She couldn't have him, and the reality of that was incredibly sad. "Jeff, no! I. . ." "I know," he said, taking a steadying breath as he stepped back. His hands ran slowly down her arms before he finally released her. "I know." "Jeff, I'm sorry if I" "Like I said, Robin, tonight was very special. Every minute of it. I'll see you at the bench in the morning." "Yes. Good night." "Good night, pretty lady in the window," he said, trailing his thumb over her lips. He then turned and left the apartment, shutting the door quietly behind him. Robin snapped the lock into place, shut off the light, and walked slowly into the bedroom. She sank onto the edge of the bed, and her fingertips came to rest on her throbbing lips. She drew a shuddering breath. She had never in her life responded to a man's kiss and touch the way she had to Jeff Webster's. He had stirred something within her that was entirely new, unlike any previous experience. He could have become so angry with her for leading him on and then calling a halt to the whole thing, but he hadn't. He had simply gazed at her with those chocolate-chip eyes of his and understood. But why? Jeff was obviously a virile man, who, with his looks and build, would have no difficulty luring women into his bed. Robin was sure he was no stranger to the feel of a woman's body, and he had caressed and kissed her with expertise. And yet he had asked no more of her than she was willing to give, expressed no dissatisfaction at the outcome, and had bid her a gentle good night. Why? And where did they go from here? Robin simply did not know.

Jeff slid behind the wheel of his car, closed the door, slipped the key into the ignition, but did not turn it on. He just sat there, thinking. He'd never be able to sleep. He'd have to swim until he was nearly dead to cool down the passion Robin had incited in him. But he had known that from the beginning and had kissed her anyway, allowed himself to drink in the feel of her sweet mouth and soft body. He'd known he'd end up aching for her, but it didn't matter, because those moments when he had felt her respond to him were worth it. So he'd swim as though he were training for the Olympics and consider himself a lucky man. He roared the car into action and headed for his home in the foothills. How long had it been since an evening out hadn't ended up in a woman's bed? he wondered. A very long time indeed. It had become a natural chain of events, an unspoken understanding with the women he knew. A good meal, pleasant conversation, and sex. One, two, three. But not so with Robin Kent, because she was special, rare, and when he made love with her it would be beautiful beyond description. Actually, it didn't make sense. Why was he interested in someone who wasn't willing to satisfy his needs immediately? He was a man, not a kid, and had natural drives and desires. He had wanted Robin more than any woman he could remember, and yet had accepted without question her refusal to come to him. He had had a brief glimpse of what she could give him, but she wasn't ready. Not yet. Robin Kent obviously didn't sleep around, consider sex a foregone conclusion to an evening out with a man. No, not Robin. She had class. If he rushed her, he would lose her, and he didn't want that to happen. So he would wait. He'd turn into a prune in his pool and wait. Why? Hell, he didn't know, but it felt right, somehow. Maybe he'd view the whole thing differently in the morning and move on down the road, but he didn't think so. He had an ache in his gut and he was on top of the world!

When Robin shut off the alarm the next morning she opened one eye and thought of Jeff. She opened the other, thought of him again, and shuffled into the shower. The events of the previous night came into clear focus in her mind as the stinging water brought her out of her sleepy fog, and she smiled. It was more like a lopsided grin, which remained on her face while she dressed in navy blue slacks and a pale blue ruffled blouse. Now Jeff Webster had gone into the shower with her, she thought, but it hadn't been the least bit upsetting. She might never again jog through the St. Phillip's parking lot, but that was a sacrifice she was willing to make. She was frowning, though, as she consumed a bowl of cereal. Was she a prude? Shouldn't she be slightly more sexually liberated at twenty-six? Why couldn't she just go for the gusto, like everyone else she knew? She had wanted Jeff Webster to make love to her, and there she had stood, pulling her prim-and-proper routine. It was a wonder he hadn't called her a tease, punched her tweaky nose, and told her to take a hike. Jeff had definitely wanted her too! Every inch of the man's body had announced that fact in no uncertain terms. Well, if he didn't show up at the bench this morning she'd know he'd decided to move on to greener pastures and more welcoming beds. If he didn't show up she'dshe'd jump out the window that had gotten her into this predicament in the first place!

"Good morning, Lois," Jeff sang out as he strode into the office. "Well, good morning to you too," she said, smiling. "You must have had a great night's sleep." "Not really. I swam until nearly three, but I feel terrific. You did, of course, keep my calendar free at ten?" "Of course." "Good. Listen, would you please call the U of A and get me two excellent seats for the football game Saturday night? Tell them I'll pick them up later today."

"All right." "Thank you, lovely Lois," he said, and disappeared into his office. "Lovely Lois?" she muttered. "Is he really feeling better or has he moved into the final stages of dementia? Oh, that poor, dear boy!" Jeff shrugged out of his jacket, then sat down at his desk and pulled forward a file. He was due in court the next morning, but should have no problem being back by ten. It was an open-and-shut case of breach of contract. An artist had agreed to paint an original picture for a wealthy businessman, who had paid a fat fee. The artist had turned around and made prints of the work and pedaled them at the Sixth Avenue Street Fair. Idiot. "Mr. Webster?" Lois said from the doorway. "Yes?" "The football game is sold out," Lois said, walking up to his desk. "What?" Jeff roared, jumping to his feet. "It is!" she said, backing up. "Damn! Don't people in this town have anything better to do with their time?" "Huh?" "Okay, okay. Thanks." "Heavens!" Lois said, hurrying out of the room. Wonderful, just wonderful, Jeff thought, fuming. He picked up the telephone and punched out a number with a vengeance. "Hello."

"Carol? This is your favorite brother." "You're my only brother, Jeff." "Minor detail. How are you?" "Busy." "Then I'll get right to the point. Do you remember when you were twelve and your kite got caught in that tree and I climbed up and got it?" "Yes, but" "And do you recall the time I rode my bike a mile a day to deliver your little love notes to that kid you had a crush on?" "Yes, but'" "And you surely haven't forgotten when I beat up Stanley Whoever when he put his hand on your knee during the basketball game." "I was fifteen years old!" "And too young to have a clammy hand on your knee, so I charged right in and" "Jeff, what is your problem?" "Nothing. I'm simply calling in my debts." "What do you want; Webster?" "Ryan's and your tickets to the U of A football game Saturday night." "Our ticWhat?" "I'll pay. Double."

"Jeff, you hate football! Why in the world would you Oh, wait a minute here. What's her name, Jeff?" "Who?" "The female football fan you're trying to impress." "Will you give me the damn tickets?" "Who is she?" "You don't know her." "She must really be something, to get you to a football game." "Carol, for Pete's sake, just" "All right, all right. You can have them. It'll cost you, though." "How much?" "Dinner for two at The Palomino." "You're ripping me off!" "Take it or leave it." "I'll take it, but don't ever talk to me again, Carol." "Ta-ta, Jeff. I hope you have a fabulous time Saturday night. There's nothing like a good football game with all that grunting and groaning and hard-hitting sweating bodies and" "Good-bye!" Jeff said, slamming the receiver into place. That woman could sell oil to Arabs, refrigerators to Eskimos. How did Ryan survive? Maybe he'd take his brother-in-law out for a drink one of these days. The guy could probably use a few. Well,

he had the tickets. It wouldn't be so bad. The game would only last about three hours. Three hours! Lord! He was willing to suffer through that for Robin Kent? Yeah, he guessed he was.

"Denise," Robin said, flipping through the telephone book, "is there any place around here that serves gourmet food for lunch?" "Well, the Blue Willow, down on Campbell has fancy omelets with a bunch of stuff in them. Why?" "I thought I'd, um, broaden my eating horizons, acquire a taste for a little more sophisticated cuisine." "I see." "What kind of stuff do they put in the omelets?" "Who knows? I just shovel it in. Tastes great." "Grim. Oh, well, I'll give it a shot." "You'll go into a Big Mac withdrawal." "Don't remind me, Denise." Oh, yuck! Robin thought. An omelet with junk in it? That sounded worse than the fish with the eyeball. How could Jeff eat that garbage? And he cooked it too! Well, she'd just have to learn to choke it down, right? Right, because Jeff liked gourmet food and she had a fervent hope that they'd be eating a lot more dinners together. If he showed up this morning on the bench. By nine-thirty Robin had told herself that if Jeff had decided to dust her off because she hadn't jumped into bed with him, he could go straight to hell and she would be well rid of him. She then informed herself she was a liar and took two aspirin.

Jeff Webster dozed off in his chair at around nine and whacked his knee on the desk when Lois startled him awake by calling him on the intercom. He swore under his breath as he rubbed his wound and wondered absently why his life suddenly seemed so complicated. At precisely ten o'clock Robin was smiling as she walked across the courtyard to greet Jeff, who stood waiting for her. He gazed down at her from his lofty height, tilted her chin up with one finger, and kissed her deeply. "You didn't warn me that you were going to do that," she said breathlessly. "I thought I'd surprise you." He grinned, then motioned her onto the bench and handed her a can of soda. "I love surprises. I wasn't sure you'd be here this morning, Jeff." "Why wouldn't I be?" "I thought perhaps you'd be angry because of last night. I shouldn't have allowed you to . . . When I knew I wasn't going to . . . It really wasn't fair of me." "Did you think I expected you to go to bed with me?" "It crossed my mind, yes." "I had no intention of doing that, Robin." "Well, thanks a lot!" she snapped. "Not that I didn't want to," he said quickly. "Because believe me I did. Oh, yes, ma'am, I certainly did. But there is no way I am going to try to rush you into something you're not prepared to do." "I somehow don't picture you as a candidate for the priesthood." "I never said I was, but I'm not a sex maniac either!"

"Sorry. Jeff, II think it would be best if I'm completely honest with you. I can't deny that I felt something very special when you kissed me. I responded to you physically to an extent that was almost frightening." "Robin" "Please listen. My body was raging a battle with my mind. I don't think I can change who I am and what my beliefs are. In actuality, sex isn't in my scope of things. To me, it would be making love, and that's on an entirely different plane. Something happened between us last night that I don't fully comprehend. I have to sort all this out in my head and figure out where I am." "I see," Jeff said thoughtfully. Whew! This was a helluva lot more complicated than he'd anticipated. "I'll understand if you'd rather not see me anymore and" "Robin, you are the most desirable woman I have ever met. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to have sex . . . um . . . make love with you, but you must be absolutely sure it's the right time for you. Trust me a little." "You're a nice person, Jeffrey Webster." "So are you, Robin Kent. So are you."

CHAPTER FOUR "What's wrong with you tonight, Robin? I've never seen you play such lousy tennis." "I'm sorry, Margie, I can't seem to concentrate. Let's go get a snow cone." The two women left the court and wandered over to the snack bar, then settled on the grass under a tree to enjoy their treat. "I had lunch at the Blue Willow today," Robin said. "Oh, yeah? How was it?" "Awful. Weird and awful." "I love their stuff, but I'm surprised you drove past the Taco Bell. You are not a flashy eater, you know." "Tell me about it. My stomach hurt all afternoon. Margie, you're twenty-eight, right?" "Yep." "Do you consider yourself sexually active?" "Compared to what? A nun or a hooker?" "Would you get serious!" "Is that what's bothering you, Robin? Your sex life?" "No. Well, sort of. What would you do if you met the most devastatingly handsome man, who knocked the socks right off you when he kissed you?" "Do? Before or after I went to bed with him?" "Margie!"

"Oh, kiddo, what can I say? I sleep with some, I don't with others. I have this signal in my head that tells me when it's really what I want to do. If it's not right for me, I toss 'em out the door. I'm comfortable with how I conduct myself. That's what's important. So tell me about the hunk who has you so shook up. Lord, it's not Eric, is it?" "No, I'm not seeing Eric anymore." "He was cute, but dull. So who's this Mr. Gorgeous who wants to get into your pants?" "He does not! Well, yes, he does, but he's not making a federal case out of it." "Why not? Are you sure he's straight? Some of the beautiful ones are" "Margie, the man is perfectly normal. In fact, he's practically perfectly perfect. Did that make sense?" "Absolutely. What's his name?" "Jeff Webster." "The attorney?" Margie yelled. "Oh, no! You had an affair with him, right? How could you do this to me, Margie? You're my best friend!" "I've never slept with Jeff Webster! Not that I'd mind, of course. He is incredible. That body! That face! That hair! That" "How come you know him? Huh? Huh? Answer me that," Robin shouted. "I work for a lawyer, remember? Your Jeff comes by once in a while and they go out to lunch. I was debating about whether to tear off all my clothes the next time he came in, but now that I know he's yours I won't. I love his eyes. They remind me of fudge sauce."

"Chocolate chips." "Oh, yeah, those too. Know something? You're in trouble." "Why?" "Because, Robin, Jeff Webster is one very sexy man, who probably has a libido that registers on the Richter Scale. That type doesn't have to wait around for shrinking violets to make up their minds to do or not to do the proverbial 'it.' They can have their pick of the litter. If you want to keep him, you'd better be ready to hop in the sack." Robin frowned. "That's disgusting." "Sex? No, it's a helluva lot of fun." "Not sex per se. I mean the fact that the only way to have the company of a man like Jeff is to sleep with him. It wasn't necessary with Eric." "But Webster is in the major leagues, Robin. Did it ever occur to you that you're not the type to play with the big boys? You're hearth and home, babies and PTA. I'm not sure you could handle having an affair and going on your merry way when it was over." "Over?" "Oh, Robin, the Jeff Websters of this world don't get married! Why should they limit themselves to one woman? He'd be faithful during the duration, but he'd shuffle off to Buffalo eventually. I think it would blow your mind." "You are depressing me, Margie." "I'm trying to keep you from getting hurt! And with Jeff Webster that ain't a maybe, baby, it's a guarantee. He's not the one for you, Robin. Get out while you still can." "I'll think about what you said, Margie. Thanks."

"Anytime. What are best friends for?" "I'm not sure. You just gave me a rotten headache." "Better than a broken heart, sweet pea." Well, hell, Robin thought as she drove home. Maybe Margie was wrong. After all, Jeff had said that very morning that he had no intention of rushing her into something she wasn't ready for. So why didn't she just get ready, for Pete's sake, and get the show on the road? Her body was willing. Her mind lived in the Victorian age. How much patience did a man like Jeff have? And what about this affair bit? Margie viewed Jeff as the love-'em-and-leave-'em type. Was he? He must be, or he'd have been married by now. Oh, Lord, what had she gotten herself into? She didn't want to stop seeing Jeff! She'd just take one day at a time for now. Yes, that was exactly what she would do.

"I appreciate your buying me a drink like this, Jeff," his brother-in-law said. "I haven't seen you in a while." "My pleasure, Ryan," Jeff said. "Carol called me at work all excited because you're hooked on some gal who managed to get you to a football game. I won't tell Carol I saw you, or she'll nag me to death about what you said." "I appreciate your letting me have the tickets, Ryan." "No problem. I'll tell you, buddy, I don't know how you stay in such great shape with the life you lead." "What's wrong with my life?"

"Nothing! Hell, you've got it made. More women than you know what to do with and""What do you think I do? Sleep with someone different every night of the week?" "Sounds good to me, Jeff. No, I'm kidding. It's not my cup of tea." "What do you mean?" "Off the record?" "In other words, don't tell Carol? Sure, Ryan." "I suppose every man puts up a front of envying guys like you with the looks, money, women at the snap of your fingers, but not me. I was meant to be married. I love your sister, Jeff, but more than that, I need her. She's my best friend, my other half. I miss her when she goes to the grocery store! And sex? Let me tell you something, Jeff. It gets better and better because you're so in tune with the other person. Hey, I'm not saying that you're not having a great time in bed with the football gal." "I'm not." "It's lousy, huh?" "No, I mean I'm not sleeping with her." "Why not?" "Because . . . she's different. She's not into casual sex. She needs some time, space, to get it sorted out in her mind." "And you're hanging around?" "Well, yeah." "Uh-oh. Half the women in Tucson are going to go into mourning." "What are you talking about, Ryan?"

"You've got all the signs, my boy. Watch your step, Jeffie baby, you are falling in love!" "Like hell I am!" "Okay, okay, have it your way, but don't say I didn't warn you. Unless you're willing to sign up for the diapers and baby bottles brigade, you'd better run like hell after that game Saturday night." "You're crazy, Ryan." "We'll see, old buddy, we'll see. Want another drink?" "No, I'm going home. You've given me indigestion." Ryan chuckled. "You're a goner." "Stow it," Jeff growled, and strode away. He didn't argue, but just signed his name to the speeding ticket the police officer stuck under his nose. He had definitely gunned the engine of the Corvette as he'd pulled out of the parking lot of Ye Old Lantern on Miracle Mile after leaving Ryan, and the flashing lights had materialized before he'd gone a block. But, dammit, Ryan was so full of bull it was ridiculous! First Ryan had given him a sermonette on the wonderful state of matrimony, and then had the gall to say he was falling in love! The man had really gotten on his nerves. Well, it was nice that Ryan was so happily married, but Carol was his best friend? Yeah, that was possible. She'd be there to listen whenever Ryan needed to talk, would see him through the good and the bad. Didn't sound too shabby. Sex got better and better, huh? Might be a relief not to have to perform like some kind of stud all the time. Why was he wasting his mental energies thinking about this nonsense? Jeff thought. He wasn't getting married, because he sure as hell was not falling in

love with Robin Kent! He used a little sexual restraint once in his life and everyone went nuts. Of course, he didn't know why he was suddenly such a paragon of patience either, but . . . Forget it. He was going swimming.

The next morning at ten, Jeff shoveled a quarter into a pay phone in the hall of the courthouse and quickly dialled Robin's number."Kent's Temps." "Is Miss Kent in?" "No, she just stepped out. May I take a message?" "No, thanks. 'Bye." Damn that artist, Jeff fumed as he fed the machine another quarter. He was late for a court date because he had been meditating? Cripes. "Mr. Webster's office." "Lois? Jeff. Listen, go down the hall, buy a can of soda, and take it out to the woman who's sitting on the bench in the courtyard. Tell her I got held up down here and I'll talk to her later." "A can of" "Hurry, before she leaves!" "Am I being Magnum again?" "Yes! Now, do it!" "I'm on my way, boss." Jeff hung up the receiver and rested his forehead on the cool metal of the pay phone. His life was out of control. He had nearly knocked over the bailiff trying to get out of that courtroom to catch Robin before she left the office. He didn't want her to think he'd stood her up, though. She was so fragile

about this sex thing, as if she were waiting for him to dump her because she wasn't sure what she wanted yet. How fast could a woman Lois's age move? She had to get out there before Robin decided that he wasn't coming!

Robin sat down on the bench and glanced at her watch. Jeff was late. He wasn't going to be there at all! Yes, he was. Maybe he'd gotten tied up on the phone or had a client in his office. He'd be there. Wouldn't he? Who was that lady coming across the courtyard? Didn't she know it was a private bench? "Hello," Lois said. "May I present you with this can of soda, compliments of Mr. Jeffrey Webster, Attorney-at-Law?" "Thank you," Robin said. "Jeff sent you out here?" "I'm Lois Chambers, his secretary. He got held up in court and just phoned. My instructions were to bring you that soda and tell you hell talk to you later." "How sweet of him," Robin said. "You wouldn't by any chance be Robin Kent of Kent's Temps., would you?" "Yes, I am." "Oh, Magnum would be proud of me. I've put all the facts together like a pro." "Pardon me?" "Well, don't you worry, Miss Kent. I won't schedule a thing on Mr. Webster's calendar for ten o'clock from now on. And I thought he needed a vacation. Silly me. I must get back to the phone. It was marvelous meeting you. Absolutely marvelous." "It was a pleasure. Thanks for the drink," Robin said, smiling slightly. Magnum? What did he have to do with anything? But, oh, my, look at that

can of soda! Jeff had called all the way from downtown to send Lois out there so she wouldn't be upset when he didn't appear. How thoughtful, and dear, and considerate. Yes, Jeffrey Webster was a very, very nice person. "Well?" Jeff said as he walked into the office an hour later. "Did you get out to the courtyard on time?" "I certainly did. Your Miss Kent is a lovely girl." "She's not exactly mine." "I had a figure like hers once, before I had five children. Honestly, that Miss Kent is the prettiest little thing. No wonder you dash out of here every morning at ten." "Yeah, well..." "A rendezvous under a shady tree. Oh, it's so romantic!" "Good Lord," Jeff said, and went into his office, leaving a beaming Lois behind. All he had done was give Robin a can of soda, he thought, and Lois was acting as though it had been a dozen long- stemmed red roses! Did Robin like flowers? Yes, he imagined she did. He could have some delivered to her. He didn't usually do things like that, but why not? No, you had to have a reason to send someone flowers, like a birthday or something. Tomorrow was just Thursday. Well, he could send a "Have a nice Thursday" bouquet. Corny, but clever. Oh, what the hell, why not?

Robin decided to give her stomach a reprieve and ate lunch at McDonald's, returning to the office just as a call came in. "Robin Kent," she said, picking up the phone on her desk. "Hi, it's Jeff. I'm sorry I couldn't make it this morning."

"I got your message from your secretary. It was very thoughtful of you, Jeff." "I didn't want you to think I was a no show. Listen, suppose I cook you dinner at my place tonight and we go for a swim? The air's a little chilly, but the pool is heated." "Sounds lovely." He was going to cook? That gourmet garbage? May the Lord have mercy on her stomach! "Ill pick you up at your apartment at six-thirty. Okay?" "Okay." " 'Bye." "Good-bye, Jeff." At her apartment after work, Robin changed into designer jeans and a red terry-cloth top and packed her blue bikini and matching jacket in a tote bag. She did not want to go swimming. She did, however, want to see Jeff Webster, and she apparently wasn't going to get one without the other. He could swim and she'd jog around the edge of the pool. Silly. But then again, imagine Jeff Webster in a bathing suit. Now, there was an inspiring thought. But Robin Kent in a bikini? Well, she had a nice figure, could hold her own. So why did she suddenly wish her suit weren't so. . . skimpy? Oh, for heaven's sake! She was doing her prude number again. At precisely six-thirty she opened the door to Jeff, who was dressed in faded jeans and a yellow knit shirt that made his tan seem three shades darker. She returned with pleasure his welcoming kiss, and they left the apartment smiling. Jeff told her about the harebrained artist during the drive to his house, and Robin laughed in delight, declaring that lawyers had the inside track on meeting the most interesting people in Tucson. "Oh, my, it's enormous," she said, once inside Jeffs living room. "And really . . . lovely." Modern furniture, she thought. Definitely not her favorite. It

was too cold, sterile, didn't have the warmth of her cozy, earth-toned apartment. "Thank you," Jeff said. "The house is really too big for me, but I was sick of apartments and needed the tax break. I chose it more for the pool than anything else." "Did you decorate it yourself?""My sister did it. I just turned her loose. It took a little getting used to, but I'm not that particular. Ill put our dinner in the oven and then well swim. Why don't you change in the first bedroom down the hall? I'll meet you by the pool." "Fine." The bedroom was white. From the thick carpeting on the floor to the frilly eyelet curtains and bedspread and the straight-lined furniture it was simply white. Robin mentally assembled a vast array of cheerfully colored throw pillows on the bed as she stripped off her clothes and pulled on her bikini, ignoring how her full breasts pushed above the scrap of material that made up the top of the suit. She immediately drew on the terry-cloth jacket and tugged the sash tightly around her waist. She was nervous. She knew it, and was very angry with herself for her lack of sophistication. She was only going for a swim and joining a man for dinner. At his house. With no one else around. And the host was Jeff Webster, who did funny things to her mind and stranger things to her body. She wouldn't stay long, because, after all, they both had to go to work tomorrow. A dip in the pool, a fast meal, and home she'd go, safe and sound. Right! There wasn't a thing to worry about. She made her way back down the corridor, across the living room, and through a large, cheerful kitchen that was filled with an unusual aroma. She refused to think about the concoction Jeff had prepared and moved on to the patio beyond the arcaded doors. Jeff was by the pool, clad in his white trunks, and Robin stumbled slightly as she drank in the sight of his beautifully proportioned body.

A mass of curly tawny hair covered his broad chest and narrowed to a strip that disappeared below the waistband of his suit. His wide shoulders tapered to trim hips. His thighs were corded with muscles and boasted a fine layer of the light hair that extended to his well-shaped calves and ankles. The smooth muscles in his back rippled as he picked up a raft and tossed it into the water. Robin took a deep breath as she approached, feeling the erratic beating of her heart and the warm flush on her cheeks. Every inch of Jeff Webster was an announcement of masculinity, a vivid virile example of the splendid differences between man and woman. "Hi!" she said brightly. "This pool is gigantic. I suppose you can swim from one end to the other without any effort?" Jeff chuckled. "I manage. Coming in?" "Only at the shallow end. I really can't swim." "Maybe I should teach you, so you could enjoy it more. It isn't that tough to learn." "No, thanks." "You'd better take off that jacket or you'll sink to the bottom for sure," he said, then dove into the deep end so smoothly that the surface of the water was barely disturbed. He surfaced and turned, treading water as he watched Robin drop the jacket onto a lounge chair and step tentatively onto the top concrete step at the shallow end of the pool. He drew in his breath sharply at the sight of her slender figure in the bikini, her breasts full and lush above the blue material. Oh, man, he thought. He was in trouble! A person was allotted just so much willpower in a given set of hours, and his was rapidly running out. Maybe this hadn't been such a hot idea. Bad choice of words. It could get hot, all right. Robin was the most feminine, most delectable creature he had ever

seen. He'd never survive a long, leisurely evening at this rate. He'd hustle her home just as soon as they had eaten. He sank below the surface and swam under water, emerging by the steps, where Robin was standing. She stared at him as he rose, his hair wet and plastered down, the glistening water sheeting off his bronzed body, and decided he looked like a perfectly sculpted statue rising from the sea. "You're in all the way to your ankles," he said, smiling and extending his hand. "Live dangerously and try for your knees." She placed her hand in his and cautiously eased herself down to the next step. The instant her foot hit the concrete slab she slipped, a shriek escaping from her lips as she toppled forward. She landed squarely in Jeff's arms, and he held her tightly against his chest. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I've never been too graceful at this, because it scares me to death." "I won't drop you," he said, his mouth only inches from hers. "You're safe with me. I'm going to back up a little and" "No!" Robin yelled, throwing her arms around his neck. "It's too deep!" "It's not even three feet here. I. . . Oh, damn." He bent his head and claimed her mouth in a long, powerful kiss. Robin somehow managed to bring her feet to the bottom of the pool. She was instantly pulled up against the hard length of Jeff's body as he continued to kiss her with growing intensity. She leaned into him, relishing the feel of the wet, matted hair of his chest on her soft skin as she returned the kiss with total abandonment. The night air was cool, but where Jeff's hands rested on her bare back there was an intense warmth that was heavenly. "Oh, Robin," he said softly as he gripped her shoulders and moved her slightly away from him. "You feel so good. Your skin is like velvet. Do you have any idea how desirable you are? No, I really don't think you do."

"Well, I" "Listen, why don't you climb up on that raft, and I'll take you for a ride? I guarantee that you won't fall off." "What if I do?" she asked warily, her heartbeat finally quieting after Jeff's passionate kiss. "You can hire me as your lawyer and we'll sue me. "How am I going to get on that thing? IOh!" She gasped as she was suddenly lifted into Jeff's arms and plunked on the raft. "Oh, dear!" she said, shutting her eyes. "I don't know about this." "Relax," he said, pushing on her shoulders. "Just lie back and enjoy." Robin did as she was instructed, clutching her hands tightly together on her bare stomach as Jeff slowly swam forward, one hand on the raft. "How are you doing?" he asked. "Not bad at all," she said, starting to relax. "No wonder people rave about water beds. This is really quite comfy. Hardly seems fair, though. You're doing all the work." "My pleasure, madam," Jeff said, his gaze sweeping over Robin's scantily clad form. For the next fifteen minutes he propelled his human cargo from one end of the pool to the other, a constant smile on his face. Robin's eyes were closed, and she looked so relaxed he wondered if she had fallen asleep. Considering her fear of water, he thought it was terrific that she trusted him enough to allow him to be responsible for her safety. How far did her faith in him go? he wondered. Did she feel secure in the knowledge that he wouldn't seduce her, raise her desires to such a level that she'd be unable to deny her body what it ached to have? Each kiss they shared was more intense than the one before. Robin was giving more and

more of herself to him each time he pulled her into his embrace. Did she realize it was happening or was he running roughshod over her senses? He wanted her badly, but it had to be right for her. But, dammit, how was he going to know what she was thinking? "Good heavens," Robin said suddenly."I think I dozed off." "Which is a compliment to the way I sail my boat," Jeff said. "Can you stay put a minute while I go check on dinner?" "Sure. I've really got the hang of this now," she said dreamily. Jeff swam to the edge of the pool and hoisted himself up, smiling again at Robin before grabbing a towel and heading into the house. Robin floated merrily on her way, but in a few minutes her pleasant journey was suddenly disturbed by a fly that landed on the top of her big toe. She wiggled her foot, but the pesty visitor refused to budge, and she lifted her head to glare at it. As she shook her leg vigorously the raft tilted, and she gripped the sides in a wave of panic. The motion was her final undoing, and the raft capsized, sending her sprawling into the water. She popped up sputtering and coughing, flaying her arms in search of something to hold on to. "Jeff!" she screamed. "Jeff, help me!" Just before she submerged again she saw a blur flying through the air and then large hands roughly gripped her waist, shooting her out of the water like a rocket. In an instant she was lifted up onto the edge of the pool, Jeff immediately swinging up next to her and pulling her close to him. "Robin, are you all right?" he asked. "I should never have left you. I'm so sorry, babe. Robin, talk to me!" "IBlak! That water tasted terrible!" "You scared me to death!"

"What, about me? I was the one who was drowning!" "And I'm so sorry. I'll never leave you alone out here again. Forgive me?" "Well, yes, I guess so," she said, smiling up at him. "After all, you did save my life." "You mean I'm a hero?" "I don't think so. I wasn't going down for the third time, so it doesn't count." "Well, damn." He grinned. "I don't get any reward at all?" "I didn't say that." She wrapped her arms around his neck. "I shall give you a little peck on the cheek in gratitude." Her lips missed their target. Either that or they were sabotaged on the way to their destination, Jeff's tanned cheek. His mouth claimed hers in a sensuous, chlorine-flavored kiss that went on and on. His hands moved upward from her tiny waist to her full breasts, his thumbs trailing over the nipples until they grew taut, pressing against the wet material. A soft, purring sound escaped from Robin's throat as he trailed his lips down her slender neck and across the tops of her throbbing breasts. His breathing was ragged, and she could feel his hands trembling as they slid slowly back to her waist. In a swift, smooth motion Jeff swung his legs out of the pool and lifted Robin into his arms as he rose, his mouth once more seeking and finding hers. He carried her to a lounge chair, laying her down and stretching out next to her. He planted fluttering kisses over her eyes, her tweaky upturned nose, her cheeks, which were flushed and warm. Robin was acutely aware that he was carefully keeping his long, hard body from touching hers, and she yearned for the feel of his weight and heat on her cooling skin. He lifted his head and stared down at her, and she saw the desire radiating from the fathomless depths of his dark brown eyes.

"Robin, I ..." He cleared his throat roughly. "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. We'd better go get dressed." "Yes, all right," she said, her voice a hushed whisper. He pushed himself to his feet and extended his hand to her, pulling her up next to him. He drew a shuddering breath and rested his fingertips lightly on her cheek as their eyes met in a timeless gaze. With a quiet, almost inaudible sigh, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her to where she had dropped her jacket. "You can take a shower if you like," he said. "Ill see you in the kitchen in a few minutes." "Yes, fine," she said, not looking at him again before she went into the house. Her legs were still trembling as she stood beneath the shower and rinsed the chlorine from her hair. The reality of the situation hit her like a staggering blow, and she blinked away unwelcomed tears. Jeff was mustering every ounce of restraint and self-control when she was in his arms. He had to be suffering immense physical discomfort time and again as the caresses and kisses were called to a screeching halt. She was acting like a nincompoop, she decided fiercely as she toweled her wet hair. She wanted Jeff to make love to her! She did! She wanted to throw all her old-fashioned, outdated standards and beliefs in the Gila River and emerge a modern, carefree woman of the world. She would have the affair of the decade with the most fantastic man she had ever met and be better off for having done it. And when it was over she'dOver? Done? Zapped? Oh, Lord, then what? If she gave herself totally to Jeff, a part of her might be lost forever, never to be reclaimed as her own. Because she knew, oh, yes, she knew, that with the giving of her body would go a portion of her heart and soul and mind. When Jeff walked away, how could she ever be the same again? She didn't know how to separate the physical from the emotional. Her feelings for Jeff

were growing steadily, and she was sure she was closer to knowing what being in love might be like than she had ever been. But how long would Jeff want to continue seeing a woman who was set on automatic no? What a rotten, crummy, stinky mess, she thought as she pulled on her jeans. What fool had invented this new set of rules of social conduct? A man, probably. It sure wasn't a straitlaced, commitments-are-forever, romantic dimwit like Robin Kent. Oh, why couldn't she be more like Margie and simply go with the flow and have a grand time? Robin was a tangle of contradictions. She ached for Jeff, fantasized about the lovemaking they could share, and melted against him at every opportunity. Then her mind took over and made her remember who and what she was, the bubble burst, and she was sent to the showers. Literally, this time. "Dammit," she said, tugging a comb through her hair. "Just. . . dammit!"Jeff emerged from his shower, dried quickly, and redressed in the jeans and knit shirt. He sat down heavily on the edge of his bed, rested his elbows on his knees, and formed a steeple with his fingers. There was a deep frown on his face, and he shook his head. What in the hell was he going to do? Being close to Robin, holding, kissing, caressing her, was driving him out of his mind. He ached for her, and it wasn't just a physical pain. He needed, needed this woman to come to him willingly, totally, and with the trusting knowledge that he would treat reverently what she was offering to him. He wanted Robin Kent with an intensity he could neither understand nor cope with. Some nefarious force was tugging at his emotions as well as his sexual desires, and it was confusing as hell. Should he just seduce her and be done with it, rid himself of the turmoil surging in his body and mind? No! He should not! Would not! Could not! But how was he going to stop himself? Each time he held her it was harder to pull away, more difficult to be noble and gallant. So there he was, back to the original unanswered question. What in the hell was he going to do?

"Go serve dinner," he growled, pushing himself to his feet. "And keep my hands in my pockets and off Robin Kent!" Robin hesitated before entering the kitchen and breathed a sigh of relief as Jeff grinned at her and said in a veiy British accent that they would dine in the formal area reserved for that purpose. She followed him into the dining room, where he seated her with a flourish and then returned to the kitchen. Minutes later he produced a large platter that held stuffed Cornish hens nestled on a bed of rice. A huge salad and a chilled bottle of wine were also on the menu. Robin raved about the food and purposely avoided asking what had gone into making the strong-flavored stuffing in the hens. It wasn't too bad, she decided. At least little chickens didn't have eyeballs staring up at her. As they nibbled on fruit and cheese for dessert and drank cups of steaming coffee, an uncomfortable silence fell over the room. "Jeff?" Robin finally said softly. "Yes?" "I, uh, I think it would be best if we didn't see each other anymore."

CHAPTER FIVE "What?" Jeff roared, slamming his cup onto the saucer. "Why the hell not?" "I. . . Well, we ... Urn ... You see . . ." "Good explanation. Now I understand," he said, glaring at her. "Oh, Jeff, it just isn't going to work! We operate on different wavelengths. What you want, need, deserve to have is something I'm just not prepared to give." "We're back to the sex thing again, aren't we? Dammit, Robin, have I pushed you or" "No! But can you honestly say it's very far from your mind when we're together?" "I . . . No," he said, slouching back in his chair. "No, it isn't. I want to make love to you more them I can begin to tell you. I'm getting messed up in my head, Robin, because I don't know what to do." "Neither do I. Jeff, I want you. That must be clear to you whenever you touch me. But I can't seem to win the battle that's raging in my mind. I can't change who I really am." "Are you saying you're a virgin, Robin?" he asked quietly. "No. I had a one-night stand in college when I was showing off my independence. But, yes, in a way I am. I guess that doesn't make sense." "Yes, it does. Do you know how incredibly rare and beautiful you are? Do you know what it would mean to a man, to me, to be the one to show you how wonderful" "Jeff, please don't say that. I'm acting like a naive child, and it's ridiculous. I'm living in the wrong decade. Maybe even the wrong century! There's a

tension growing between us that's going to destroy everything we're building together, and it's my fault. You don't have to put up with my nonsense." "Isn't that my choice to make?" "What are you, a cold-shower freak?" "I swim off my frustrations." He smiled. "They may recruit me for the next Olympics." "This isn't funny!" "No, it's not." "That's why I think it would be best if we" "Robin, there's more to our relationship than sex, or the lack of it. We laugh and talk and share. We enjoy each other's company. Look, this is a brand new ballgame for me. In the circles I've moved in, sex is a forgone conclusion." "Nice group," she said, frowning. "That's just the way it is." He shrugged. "But I know you don't live that way. I understand. It's driving me nuts, but I do understand." "Jeff, we can't go on like this. It's there all the time, lurking in the shadows. I'm almost afraid to reach out and touch you for fear it'll look like I'm promising something I can't give. I've never felt this way before. This has never been a major issue in my life." "Doesn't that tell you something?" "Yes, I'd make a terrific nun." "No way. You're a passionate woman, who's just beginning to discover the intensity of her own desires."

"At twenty-six? I'm a little late, wouldn't you say?" she snapped. "Of course not! There's no timetable on this stuff. Different strokes for different folks." "Cute." "The point is, you are only now having a struggle over your basic beliefs because you've come in contact with a man you want to make love with. Me." "Well, la-di-da. You're conceited, Jeffrey Webster." "Can you deny it?" "No," she said miserably. "However, that does not solve the problem." "True." "I can't believe we're having this conversation." She moaned. "It's sick." "No, it is not! It's great, wonderful, fantastic. How many people today can communicate like this, be so honest and up front?" "Beats me." "Not very many." "So give us each a medal. We're still back where we started. Why don't you get me drunk, drag me into bed, and be done with it?" "Nope. It will happen when you're ready, and not before." "And in the meantime?" He grinned. "Ill swim a lot." "Oh, Jeff, this is crazy."

"You're probably right, but let's give it a rest for now. Ill take you home, and we'll declare the evening a complete success." "Was it?" "Sure. We had a good time, I saved you from drowning, and you sampled my excellent cooking. What more could we ask for?" "Do you want me to answer that?" "No, the subject is temporarily closed." "I'm picking up on the word temporarily." "Yeah, I know." He frowned. "But we'll wing it for now. I don't have all the answers, Robin. I wish I did. I'm a man and you're a very desirable woman. The combination is lethal. Or it's beautiful, depending on the outcome." "What about the tomorrows, Jeff?" "They'll come. One at a time, and we'll deal with them as they do. Fair enough?" "Fair enough. And Jeff? Thank you." "Don't sell yourself short, Robin. I consider myself very fortunate to have met you. I didn't think anyone like you existed anymore." "I think I'm a freak." "I think you're a nifty lady. Come on. My chariot awaits." Much later Robin lay in her bed and stared up at a ceiling she couldn't see. Well, she had made the magnanimous gesture. She had offered to bow out politely, fade into the sunset, disappear from the face of the earth and the grassy courtyard, and Jeff had refused to take her up on her offer.

When she had told Jeff that they should no longer see each other, icy misery had washed over her. Even as she said the words she had missed him. No more shared sodas in the morning, no more of Jeffs laughter and sunshiny smile, his kiss and touch. How could she have gotten through any given day without focusing on the time when she would see him? He had become the most important element of her waking hours, because . . . because . . . "Oh, good heavens!" Robin yelled, sitting bolt up in bed. "I love him! I am in love with Jeff Webster!" She turned on the light and bounded out of bed, pacing the floor in nervous, jerky steps. It was terrible! Asinine! Stupid! Not only was she too unsophisticated to enter into a short-term affair, she had lost control of her emotions and fallen in love with a man who only indulged in those kind of relationships. Lord, she was an idiot! A total social dropout. So now what did she do? Waltz up to Jeff and announce she was prepared to sleep with him, because, after all, she loved him, so what the heck, why not? No! Everything was worse than it had been before! She loved him, dunderhead that she was, and if she gave her body to him after already having lost her heart, she'd never recover from the pain their parting would bring. As it was, she didn't see how she could handle the inevitable good-bye. If she went to bed with Jeff, could she hold on to him longer? Keep his physical needs satisfied so he wouldn't wander on to the next woman who offered her favors? Disgusting. No, she had come this far holding tightly to her principles, antiquated as they were, and she would not compromise her values now. She could not make love with a man who didn't love her in return, not even when said person was Jeffrey Webster, Attorney-at-Law. "Oh, forget it!" she said, flopping onto the bed. "I just want this day to be over with. Why did I have to fall in love with you, Jeff? You are really getting on my nerves!"

Jeff pulled himself out of the pool and wondered if he should check to see if he was sprouting fins. Someone would think he was a physical-fitness nut, considering the amount of time he'd spent swimming lately. He sank onto the lounge chair and stared up at the star-studded sky. A slight shiver ran through his body as he relived that moment when Robin had said they should no longer see each other. He had felt as though a knife had been stuck in his gut and then slowly twisted as he heard her whisper-soft voice and saw the flicker of sadness in her eyes. What an incredible woman, he thought. She had been willing to walk away from him because she considered herself incapable of meeting his needs. Well, dammit, it wasn't going to happen. He'd found her when she had been the lady in the window, and had brought her into his world. No, sir, he was not letting her go. But why in the hell not? He had pleaded his case like a frantic lawyer, talked fast and furious, and convinced her to stay put and take one day at a time and see what happened. Why? What was he getting out of this except sleepless nights and a strung-out libido? Robin, that was what. Robin, with her lilting laughter and adorable nose. Robin, who made him so glad he was a man and who evoked protective instincts in him he didn't know he possessed. She had screamed his name when she'd fallen off the raft, and he had nearly gone crazy. If anything ever happened to her . . . Seeing her, caressing and kissing her, was the high point of his day. She made him want to get up in the morning and get things moving so it would be ten o'clock and time to meet on the bench. He was even going to suffer through a football game because he couldn't handle the thought of her being with anyone else. No man was going to touch his Robin, because . . ."Sweet heaven," Jeff said, pushing himself up in the chair. "Is this it? Have I gone and done it? Am I in love with Robin Kent? Good Lord, yes!" Oh, no, he thought, sinking back onto the lounger, it really hadn't happened to him, had it? A man couldn't be in love with a woman he'd never even made love to, could he? Yeah, he could, and he was, and it was the worst mess he had ever been in in his entire life. He couldn't tell Robin he loved her. It would sound like the oldest hustle in the book. Declare your love and

carry the woman to bed. Robin wouldn't buy it, not for a minute. She'd look up at him with those great big smoky gray eyes and tell him he was lying through his teeth. And then she'd be hurt, feel betrayed because she'd think he was trying to con her, and she'd drop him like a hot potato. So now what in blazes was he going to do? Sit tight and wait. But how much more could his body take? He was dying! He'd just have to keep on moving slowly, watching for any sign, a flicker of hope that she was falling in love with him too. Would she tell him if she did? Yes? No? Maybe? He didn't know. He had a trained legal eye. He'd observe her carefully and stay right on top of the situation. Bad choice of words. There would be no sexual innuendos. Did he want to be in love with Robin? What difference did it make? It was too late now. To quote that damn Ryan, he was a goner!

Robin stared at her reflection in the mirror the next morning and decided she didn't look a bit different. How disappointing. When someone fell in love for the first time in her life, shouldn't she sparkle and glow, or something? Guess not. What was even worse was the fact that she was slightly depressed. Not jump off the roof gloomy, just rather blue. But that was understandable, she supposed. Her love was not reciprocated, which was the pits. At the office, she shuffled papers around on her desk in an attempt to look busy, but finally gave up the effort and glared at a spot on the wall. She nearly fell out of her chair when Denise came charging into the office, scaring her out of her wits. "Look!" Denise said, plunking down a huge bouquet of flowers in the middle of Robin's desk. "Aren't they lovely? Oh, they smell so good." "What are you celebrating?" "They're not mine. They're yours! The delivery boy just brought them. Question is, what are you celebrating?"

"I have no idea," Robin said, pulling loose the small white envelope and extracting the card. "Oh, my, how sweet." "Well? What's the occasion?" "It's Thursday." Robin smiled. "That's all. It's just Thursday." "That is the most romantic, awesome thing I have ever heard." Denise sighed. "Oh, I'm going to cry. Where did you find such a dear, sensitive man?" "They're from my mother." "Ha! I saw the look on your face. It's a man, all right. An old-fashioned, dashing, storybook hero, a romantic man." "Well, he is rather . . . special," Robin said. "Oh! What time is it?" "Just before ten." "I have to go out." She jumped up from her chair. "Again?" "Yes, it has to do with the ozone layer. The air is at its best at ten in the morning. I go outside to, uh, cleanse my lungs. It's all very scientific, Denise." "You're kidding." " 'Bye," Robin said, dashing out the door. "The ozone layer?" Denise yelled. Robin hurried across the courtyard, and before Jeff could speak she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. He appeared rather confused but obviously delighted.

"Thank you for the flowers," she said when they finally sat down. "They're beautiful, and Thursday has just become my favorite day of the week." "I'm glad you like them." "Oh, Jeff, I do!" "Good. Here's your soda." Look at her eyes! he thought. They were sparkling! And he'd thought the flowers had been a cornball thing to do. They chatted comfortably as they drank their sodas, and then Jeff said he had a ten-thirty appointment and had to get back to the office. He pulled Robin into his arms and kissed her deeply. "I hope no other tenants have taken up gazing out of their windows in the morning," she said breathlessly. "Let them look. Ill be the envy of every man in the building. Oh, I won't be able to talk to you later. I have a civic-group meeting tonight, but I'll see you in the morning." "All right, Jeff. Thank you again for the flowers." " 'Bye, babe." Jeff walked slowly back to his office, not quite able to determine his frame of mind. He was in love with that woman and didn't dare tell her! He'd waited all his life for this to happen and now had to guard it like a national secret. That was not how these things were supposed to work. "Is all well in the courtyard?" Lois asked. "Yep," Jeff said. "Well, sort of. No, everything is fine, but. . . not exactly." "I'm sorry I asked," Lois said, shaking her head. "And here I thought you were such an articulate lawyer."

"I am! It's just that ... I can't explain it, Lois, because I'm not sure I understand it myself." "Sounds serious." "It's grim," Jeff said, going into his office. "Definitely grim."

Robin spent the majority of the day poking her nose into her beautiful bouquet and smiling. Her early-morning doom-and-gloom attitude had dissipated into thin air, and she was glowing with happiness. Denise had said that the man who sent the flowers was romantic. What a fun, frilly, old-fashioned word. Robin loved it. And, oh, goodness, how she loved Jeffrey Webster. With every passing hour, minute, second, she loved him more. It still remained a hopeless, dead-end situation, but today, on this glorious Thursday, nothing could dampen her exuberant spirits. Once at home, she jogged up the hill, purposely prancing through the parking lot at St. Phillip's with a wide smile on her face, then headed for the French bakery, where she consumed two whipped- cream-filled pastries. Her telephone was ringing when she sprinted into her apartment, and she answered it with a breezy greeting. "Ms. Kent?" "The same." "This is Sara Geary, in San Diego. I just wanted to let you know that a car will be picking you up at the airport Monday." "Airport?" The airport? Of course, yes, of course, the airport. "That's very considerate of you." "One of our people will be holding up a sign at your arrival gate.""Fine." "I'm looking forward to meeting you, Ms. Kent. Good-bye."

"What? Oh, good-bye." Good grief! She had been so busy falling in love with Jeff she'd forgotten she was leaving town! She was one of the speakers at a Women in Business conference, having been invited by a special board of directors of some- thing-or-other. At the time, she had been thrilled to think she had been recognized as an enterprising young businesswoman. But now? Go to California for three days? Three days! Without Jeff? "Well, pooh!" she said, stomping into the shower. The next morning, on the bench, Robin watched Jeff's smile change to a frown and then into a deep scowl as she told him about her pending trip. "That's not the best news I've heard today," he said, "but I imagine this is quite an honor for you." "Yes, it is." "I'll miss you, Robin." "I really wish I weren't going." "You can bring me a seashell from the beach." She smiled. "I will." "I have a dinner meeting with a client tonight, Robin. I guess I won't see you until I pick you up for the football game tomorrow night." "It should be an exciting one. The two teams are very evenly matched. I'm really looking forward to it." "Yeah, it ought to be a . . . beaut. Damn, I've got to get back to the office. Kiss me good-bye, lovely Robin." "Good-bye?" "Only a figure of speech," he said, and pulled her into his arms and claimed her mouth in a searing kiss.

Saturday was a clear, crisp Arizona day, and Robin tended to her usual chores, cleaning her apartment, shopping for groceries, and doing her laundry. She knew her mother would be expecting a letter, but she was still toying with the idea of telling Elizabeth Kent about Jeff. Being in love was so new to Robin, and she wasn't sure she could express in words how she felt. And besides, why share the precarious state of her emotions when there was no guaranteed happy ending? Her mother read romance novels by the bucketful, always sighing and staring off into space with a smile on her face when the heroine found true love at last. She wanted the same rosy bliss for her daughter, and Robin had picked the wrong hero! No, better to just keep quiet on the subject. She would write to her mother tomorrow, tell her about the football game, and promise to follow up with a detailed report on her trip to San Diego. The day, though busy, stretched on, seeming endless. Robin wanted to see Jeff, hear him laugh, receive his hello kiss, which he no longer warned her he was going to deliver. She ate an early dinner of bacon and eggs and then indulged in a leisurely, lemon-scented bubble bath. Dressed in brown corduroy slacks, a brown-and-tan-striped sweater, and boots, Robin was giddy with excitement over the prospect of the evening ahead when she opened the door to Jeff. "Ah, Mr. Webster, do come in," she said, with a sweep of her arm. "I will indeed," he said, pulling her close after she shut the door. "You smell good." "So do bakery shops," she replied, deciding he was beautiful, in black pants and a red V-neck sweater over an open-neck white shirt. "That's true, but you have other attributes." He lowered his head to take possession of her mouth. Jeff kissed her with practiced ease, his lips traveling down her throat and back again to her lips, which parted to receive his questing tongue.

Robin leaned into the hard contours of his body and received the pleasure-giving sensations that swept through her. Oh, how she wanted to gaze into his chocolate-chip eyes and announce with no hesitation that she loved him, always would, forever and ever. What that would get her was a view of his broad back as he hightailed it out the door, so she remained silent. "I suppose," Jeff said, clearing his throat, "we had better go." What would happen if he told her he loved her? he wondered. What if he opened his mouth and let the words pop right out? No, the evening would be shot. She'd worry the whole time about what his declaration meant, what strings were attached, and what he might demand from her in return. Who said silence was golden? It was torture! They had to park six blocks from the stadium, and followed the crowds heading toward the bright lights and the distant sound of the university's marching band, which was performing its pre- game show. They made their way up the wide concrete ramp and settled into their seats in the second tier, at about the forty-yard line. Robin buried her nose in her program, reading the statistics on the visiting team, as Jeff's eyes swept over the rapidly filling stands and the grassy playing field below. It had been so many years since he had been in a football stadium, and a frown creased his brow as the unwelcome memories assaulted him. Excitement was crackling in the air, but Jeff felt only uneasiness as he recalled his days at Stanford and the multitude of hours he had spent involved in grueling workouts and bruising battle. Nothing had changed. He hated football. "Would you look at the size of their tackles?" Robin said as the teams came onto the field accompanied by a roar from the crowd. "Yeah." The throng rose to its feet for the kickoff and then settled back down to enjoy the spectacle. Jeff stole a glance sideways at Robin and saw the anticipation on her face. How could such a delicate little creature like watching a massacre? Those weren't robots with interchangeable parts

down there! They were flesh and bloodoh, Lord, blood young men who were laying their lives on the line. From where they sat they could hear the grunts and groans, the clash of helmets. "Come on, Wildcats," Robin yelled. "Cream the bums!" Jeff cringed. Those bums were somebody's sons! They wanted to live to see tomorrow, to be husbands and fathers someday. He had to get a grip on himself. He'd never survive three hours of this if he didn't relax. He'd detach himself, think about something else, mentally recite the Gettysburg Address. "Aw right!" Robin said, clapping her hands. "Way to go! See that, Jeff? Our Wildcats are hitting hard tonight. This is great." "Yeah." On the next series of downs the home team's offensive unit came onto the field, and Jeff's eyes were riveted on the split end, the position he had played at Stanford. Oh, Lord! he thought. The guy was wearing the same number Jeff had worn for four years! It was deja vu, a rerun, a sick twist of fate and coincidence. Jeff squinted and concentrated on the quarterback, sending him silent signals not to pass the ball to the end. Call a keeper play, he silently begged, a straight up the middle, anything but a pass to the split end! The quarterback moved away, cocked his arm, and did it! Thud! The end caught the ball and was immediately buried beneath a pile of humanity. "Oooph," Jeff moaned, his hand flying to his stomach. "What?" "Nothing." He did it again! The fool kid ran the same pattern, and crunch! The end went down in a blur of jerseys.

"Lord," Jeff muttered, taking a deep breath. Robin glanced at Jeff and frowned as he wiped a line of perspiration off his forehead with his thumb. What was wrong with him? she thought. He suddenly appeared pale beneath his tan, and his jaw was set in a tight, hard line. Was he ill? He had seemed perfectly fine a few minutes ago. Something definitely wasn't right. She followed his gaze as the next play was called and realized he wasn't watching the movement of the ball but was instead concentrating on one player . . . the split end, the position Jeff had had at Stanford. Was he reliving the glory, the thrill of being a part of an exciting, rough-and-tumble game? she wondered. No, there was no exhilaration on Jeffs face. He was literally turning green before her eyes! She felt him shudder as the play came to a close in a pileup of the good guys and the bad, and watched as he ran his hand over his face. He was going to pass out! "Jeff, come on," she said, getting up and grabbing his arm. "What?" "I have to go to the bathroom." "Huh?" Robin hauled a frowning Jeff out of the aisle and down the stairs to a corridor above the exit ramps. She turned to face him, concern in her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?" she said softly. "Tell you what?" "Oh, Jeff, you didn't want to be here tonight. Every time that end gets hit it's as though it were you." "Robin, I"

"How could I have been so selfish? I heard you the night you told me you had washed your hands of football when you didn't have to play anymore. I just wasn't thinking. It never occurred to me that it had been such a terrible experience, a nightmare, for you. I'm so sorry, Jeff." "Oh, Robin," he said, pulling her close to his chest, "I'm acting like an idiot. I didn't realize it would be this hard to handle. I just know how much you enjoy this sport. I wanted to be with you, share your excitement. I feel like a fool. It all happened years ago, and what's going on out there has nothing to do with me anymore. It just all came rushing back to me and" "Let's get out of here," she said quietly. "No! We're staying! We came to see a football game, and that's what" "I'm not." She stepped out of his arms and headed down the ramp. "Dammit, Robin, wait a minute," Jeff said, hurrying after her and grabbing her elbow. "We're going back to our seats!" "Nope," she said, yanking her arm free and running down the ramp. "Robin!" "This fella bothering you, ma'am?" a security guard at the entrance asked her. "Not at all," she said primly. "We are simply going home." Jeff smiled weakly at the skeptical guard and then took off after Robin, who was jogging down the sidewalk at a good clip. "Would you hold it a damn minute," he roared when he caught up with her. "Hell, I've got a cramp in my calf." "Oh, dear," Robin said, coming to a complete stop. "Sit down on the grass."

He lowered himself onto the lawn of a small frame house and began to massage the aching muscle, swearing continually under his breath as Robin sat beside him. At last he unknotted the painful area and flopped back onto the ground. "I'm sorry," he said. "I really am. I might as well tell you the truth. I haven't been to a football game, or even watched one on television, since I quit playing. I can't stand it. This means trouble for us, Robin. It's a big part of your life, and I want nothing to do with it. Oh, hell!" "Jeff," she said, stretching out next to him and leaning on her arm, "do you think a game means more to me than you do? Ill certainly survive without it. I can read the recap in the paper or listen to the play-by-play on the radio oror take up needlepoint." "Wonderful," he muttered. "Quit being so hard on yourself. So you don't like football. Big deal. It's not the end of the world, you know." "Oh, yeah? What do you plan to do? Go to the games with someone else?" "Of course not! I told you I'll follow the scores in the paper." "This isn't fair to you, Robin. You're sacrificing something you really enjoy. Relationships are built on compromise, give and take." "Would you feel better if I ask you to excuse me from something that's a biggy to you, Jeff?" "Maybe. Like what?" "Well, you see, I. . . That is . . ." "Spit it out. Robin." "Jeff, I hate gourmet food."

"What?" he asked, sitting straight up and staring at her with wide eyes. "I do. I'm sony." "You don't like my cooking? The restaurant I took you to? Why didn't you say so?" "Because you do like it! I tried, believe me I did, but when that fish looked at me with that eyeball I nearly died on the spot! The little chickens weren't so bad." "Cornish hens." "Whatever. I like plain old meat and potatoes and fast food. Now how much trouble are we in?" "Hey, you people," a man yelled, "get off of my lawn!" "We're not hurting your crummy lawn," Jeff shouted back. "Move your butts!" the man said. "Stuff it," Jeff retorted, none too quietly. "I'm callin' the cops!" the owner of the grass announced. "Be my guest!" Jeff bellowed. "Jeff, let's get out of here," Robin said, getting to her feet. "Well end up in jail." "Fine," he growled, pushing himself up. "You'd love their food." "Oh, I see how this is going to go," she said, planting her hands on her hips. "You're getting all in a huff because I happen to like normal meals." "Normal? Are you saying I'm not normal because I"

"Get the hell out of my yard!" "Shut up, mister," Robin said. "We're having a meaningful argument here, and you're interrupting it." "Tell it to the cops, lady!" "Oh, for Pete's sake," she said, and stomped off down the sidewalk. Jeff followed her, and they walked in silence for several blocks, both frowning. "Were we?" Jeff finally asked quietly. "Were we what?" "Having our first argument?" "I guess so." "Is it over?" She shrugged. "I don't know." "We could work this out." "How?" "Well, I could read, or something, on Sundays while you're watching football on TV. It would be all right as long as we were in the same room. Then we'd make two separate dinners, but we'd eat together. Together, Robin. What do you think?" "It sound lovely," she said, smiling up at him. "No wonder you're so good at negotiating contracts. You work out very fair arrangements." "Then it's a deal?"

"It is." "And the argument is kaput?" "Yep." "Great," he said, stopping and cupping her face in his hands. "Now we kiss and make up." Her smile was covered by soft, sensuous lips. She wrapped her arms around Jeff's waist and returned the kiss enthusiastically. "Get off the streets to do that," a woman's shrill voice said. "Have you no shame?" "For Pete's sake!" Jeff said. "What is it with people around here?" "Don't yell back at her," Robin said, laughing. "The police are probably already looking for us. Let's mosey on down the trail." "I'm hungry. Why don't we go get someYou pick it. It's your turn." "Pizza and beer!" "Okay. I wonder if there's someplace that serves pizza with hollandaise sauce." "Oh, Jeff, I love . . . pizza." Lord, she had almost said it! She had nearly told Jeff she loved him! She was going to have to be more careful! But it had all been so incredibly beautiful. He had gone to that game for her. And now he knew she had eaten weird food for him. They'd had their first argument, reached a compromise, and made up. They'd been honest and open and placed another firm brick in the foundation of their relationship. Oh, how she truly loved Jeffrey Webster.

A throaty chuckle escaped from Jeff's lips as they reached the car, then he erupted in roaring laughter as he leaned against the door. "Whatever is your problem?" Robin asked. "I. . . Oh, Lord . . ."he said, dissolving again. "Jeff!" "It's what you said about the fish with the eyeball. That's hysterical." "I didn't like the way it looked at me," she said, sticking her tumed-up nose in the air. "You're so funny, pretty Robin, and I . . . think it's time to get some pizza." Close call, he thought. Very close. He had almost said he loved her. But, dammit, he wanted her to know. Still, it was too soon. He would have to wait. She'd been so understanding about the football fiasco and cute as a button about his crazy eating habits. Oh, yes, he loved Robin Kent, and when the time was right he'd tell her, and the whole world!

CHAPTER SIX "Coffee?" Robin asked as they entered her apartment. "No, thanks. I'm full." "You didn't eat much pizza." "I don't like it." "Oh. We're not going to argue about it, are we?" she asked, sitting down next to him on the sofa. "Sure. Then we can make up." "You're crazy," she said, snuggling closer as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "You could be right. Why don't we put some records on your stereo?" "I don't think that's a good idea." "Why not?" "Because all I have is country-western." "No classical?" "None. Oh, Jeff, here we go again!" "No way. Haven't you ever heard of earphones? We just plug into our own sound, my sweet. Very simple." "You're so smart." "I know."

"We don't have an awfully lot in common, do we, Jeff?" she said. "We're individuals with separate tastes, likes, and dislikes, but nothing that is earth-shattering, Robin. Don't start looking for trouble again." She nodded and rested her head on his shoulder. What did they have in common, for heaven's sake? The more she thought about it, the worse it got. The football bit, food, music, decorating tastes. Nothing matched up. She couldn't even swim, and Jeff was a close descendant of a dolphin. This was terrible! Not only had she fallen in love with a man whom Margie insisted was a charter member of the short-term-affair club, but they had very little going for them in the interim. Damn. She had just been beginning to think that maybe, maybe Jeff was becoming more than a little fond of her. He was so attentive, warm, caring. But where was their safe ground? Inane discussions about the weather? All she knew about law was that if you broke one you got arrested, so she couldn't ask him one intelligent question about his work. They were to listen to separate music, have separate leisure-time activities, eat separate food, sleep inNo, she wouldn't start thinking about that. But, darn it, this was getting scary. What could they share? "Where are you?" Jeff asked softly. "Daydreaming." "May I interrupt?" He tilted her chin up with one long finger. "Anytime," she said, shifting slightly to circle his neck with her arms as their lips met. Now, that was sharing! she decided when Jeff finally lifted his head and took a ragged breath. As he took possession of her mouth again, Robin felt his large hands spreading out on her back, crushing her breasts against his hard chest. She relished the fiery desire that surged through her, welcomed it as though it were a traveler finding its home at long last. It seemed almost ubiquitous, from her toes to her fingertips, which had sunk into Jeff's thick hair, urging him closer.

His hands slid upward, coming to rest at the sides of her breasts, which fit perfectly into his palms. With a soft moan he swung her around onto his lap, the heat from his thighs seeming to burn her through their clothes. Tongues sought and found each other, flickering back and forth as shock waves of rapture rocketed across Robin's senses. She felt herself go limp and be caught by Jeff's strong arms as his fingers crept under the hem of her sweater and danced across the velvet- smooth skin of her stomach. Their breathing was labored, and magnified in the quiet room. She returned Jeff's kisses with an abandonment she had never before known. Passions too long denied surfaced and staked a claim on her mind and body. She loved this man, wanted and needed him to possess her. She had waited so long, and now he was here. In the deepest recesses of her soul, she knew the time had come to reach out and claim for herself what she so desperately craved. As her mouth continued to move feverishly over his and her body molded to his of its own volition, she felt a new inner peace, as if she had crossed over that lifelong line of doubt into a place that wrapped her in a benevolent cloak. "Oh, Jeff," she murmured. "Robin," he said, pulling back from her, his voice harsh and raspy. "Jeff, I want you. I do want you so very much," she whispered. "I didn't mean to take advantage of you, Robin," he said, turning her around and setting her on the sofa cushion. "I'm sorry. I think I'd better get out of here." "No, Jeff! You don't understand! I" "I'll call you tomorrow," he said, striding to the door and jerking it open. "Why won't you listen to me?" she yelled. "Dammit, Jeff Webster. I love you!" Oh, no! Oh, no! She had said it! "What?" he said, his eyes widening.

"I. . . love you." "You're not thinking clearly. I got you all" "Hot and bothered? You'd better believe it. That, however, does not change the fact that I love you with my whole heart. I didn't mean to tell you, but since I did, well, now you know. I also want you to make love to me, in case you're interested," she added, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over onto her cheeks. "You ... I ... No!" Jeff said, raking his hand through his hair. "No, not like this. Not after IYou need to calm down and realize exactly what you're saying." "Dammit! Quit treating me like a child." "You are a child! No, I didn't mean that exactly like it sounded. Robin, I don't want to hurt you. Not physically, because I would never do that. I'm going to leave now, and you are going to get in touch with yourself and make absolutely certain you know what you're doing." "Who are you? My father?" she shrieked. "No, dammit, I'm about to become your lover. Maybe. Hell, I don't know." He stomped out and slammed the door behind him. "Well! Isn't this just peachy keen," Robin said, and then promptly burst into tears. Jeff Webster was a louse! An insensitive, cold-hearted cad! He heard the word love and ran for the hills. Well, good riddance. So what if she never saw him again? Let him go seduce the hell out of someone else. There were plenty of women out there dumb enough to eat his weird food and drown in his pool. They could have him! She'd be fine, just dandy, without him. She'dshe'd love him forever and ache inside at the very thought of him. She'd have a lifelong headache because her sinus cavities would be constantly clogged with her tears. Oh, heavens, she thought, she missed him already. She was lonely and miserable and

"Oh, God!" she screamed as Jeff suddenly came barreling back into the room. "Are you sure?" he asked, standing above her as she huddled on the sofa. "Really, really sure?" "That I love you? Yes. That I want you to make love to me? Yes. Now, go away and leave me alone," she said, burying her face in a throw pillow. "Robin Kent, you are the only woman I have ever loved." "Pardon me?" she said, peeking over the top of the pillow. "I don't know how it happened, but it did. I do love you, Robin. I didn't tell you because I wasn't sure you'd believe me. You're on my mind day and night. I desire you more than I have any other woman before. Your tears are ripping me apart because I caused them. Please, Robin, say it again. Let me hear the words." "I love you, Jeff Webster," she whispered. "I love you." "Oh, my Robin." He reached down and pulled her up against him, claiming her mouth in a long, passionate kiss. "Robin," he said when he finally lifted his head, "I love you so much. You changed my life from the moment I saw you in that window." "And I saw you on the bench under the tree." "Uh, I don't want to sound like I'm treating you like a child again, but we didn't exactly plan this and. . ." "Are you asking me if I'm on the pill or something, Jeff?" "Or something, yeah." "I am. Silly, huh? At times I've envisioned myself as this worldly, sophisticated woman, who had to be prepared for anything. What a joke."

"You're wonderful, but more than that, you're mine," Jeff said, swinging her up into his arms. "Just like in the movies," she said. He carried her into the bedroom and stood her on her feet. She snapped on the lamp on the nightstand, sending a rosy hue over the room, then pulled back the blankets on the bed. Only then did she realize that Jeff had not moved, was simply standing there watching her with a slight frown on his face. "Jeff?" "Lord, Robin, I feel like a kid who's about to do this for the first time. I want it to be so beautiful for you. You've waited so long, and I can hardly believe that I'm the one you've chosen to love. I want this to be the most" She interrupted him with a laugh. "Lawyers sure talk a lot," she said, sitting down on the bed and tugging off her boots. "I understand that you're probably nervous," he said, his breath catching in his throat as she pulled her sweater over her head and dropped it on the floor. "You've a very kind, sensitive man," she said, and the bra followed. "I appreciate your concern," she added as she unzipped her slacks and removed them, along with her bikini panties. Unashamed of her nakedness, she looked at him steadily, then smiled as she slowly lifted her arms to welcome him into her embrace. With a throaty moan, he closed the distance between them and cupped her face in his hands, his dark eyes cloudy with desire as he looked at her. "You are the loveliest woman I've ever seen. I love you, Robin." He stepped back and began to remove his clothes, Robin watching as his beautiful body was revealed to her. He turned to face her again, standing perfectly still as she drank in the sight of him.

"And you are lovely too," she said softly. "I'm so glad I waited for you, Jeff." They lay down together on the bed, side by side. His hand rested lightly on her stomach, then slid up to stroke one full breast. His thumb trailed over the nipple, which grew taut under the tantalizing motion. He lowered his head to draw it into his mouth, and a shaft of desire shot through Robin's body. The other ivory breast received the same loving attention, and Robin closed her eyes as ecstacy swirled through her. In a languorous journey, Jeffs hands and lips roamed over every inch of her body, bringing soft moans from her throat. She trailed her fingertips over his back, feeling the muscles tremble under her feathery touch. She moved on to his tight buttocks, seeing the small strip of paler skin against his tanned physique. As his hand slid to the inner warmth of her thighs, she gasped, her back arching toward the source of the exquisite sensation. "Oh, Jeff," she whispered, "I want you so much. Please..." "Yes, Robin," he said, his mouth once more finding her breasts and bringing each to a throbbing, aching need. She could bear no more and with an instinct born of desire, she slid her hand along the flat plane of his stomach to find his aroused manhood. "Robin," he gasped. "Please, Jeff." He moved over her, hesitating for a moment as he gazed down at her passion-flushed face. When she smiled he came to her. He moved slowly at first, but as her hands pressed against his back he increased the tempo, feeling her respond in a rhythm that matched his perfectly. A roaring noise echoed in her ears as she felt herself being lifted away from reality, above time and space and reason, as they soared above the clouds together. Suddenly, in a burst of indescribable ecstasy, she exploded into a kaleidoscope of colors. She called to Jeff as she tightly gripped his shoulders, and he shuddered above her, joining her. His voice caressed her

name over and over as they drifted back, Robin clinging to him until she was safely returned to the here and now. Jeff rested on his arms and gazed down at her. Robin saw the question in his eyes, and her heart filled with love. She placed her hands on his cheeks and smiled. "Oh, Jeff," she whispered, "that was wonderful. I never dreamed it would be like that." "Yes, Robin. It was beautiful. You gave of yourself totally. Thank you, my love. I'll never forget this moment. You are truly mine now, and I love you." "And I love you, Jeffrey Webster, Attorney-at- Law." She tangled her fingers in the curly tawny hair on his chest, feeling him stiffen as she discovered his tiny nipples. He claimed her mouth in a long kiss, and she felt his manhood stir within her as desire grew from a smoldering ember to a raging fire. Again they soared away to a place known only to themselves, reaching the summit of their climbtogether, lingering there in a suspension of time until floating gently back. Jeff lifted himself off her and pulled her close to his side. Without speaking, they fell asleep, arms and legs entwined.

Jeff awoke as the first rays of dawn streaked across the quiet room. He gazed down at Robin, who lay nestled close to his chest. How he loved this woman, he thought. The intensity, the magnitude of the emotions he felt caused him to swallow a lump in his throat. He wanted to keep Robin safely within the circle of his arms, protect her from anyone or anything that might harm her. Tomorrow she was going to California for three days. He hated it. Maybe he'd go with her andNo, he was up to his elbows in work. There was no way he could just walk out right now. But she would be alone on the Coast, sleeping in some hotel, where he couldn't watch over her. Lord, he thought,

listen to him. He sounded like a frantic father. Father? Hardly. He was her lover, her man, and he would take care of her. He, Jeffrey Webster, was in love. Unbelievable. So now what? He didn't know how to be in love. That sounded stupid, but it was true. Were they accountable to each other for the time they spent apart? Did they explain what they had done and where they had gone, or were their lives still lived separately until they were together? What were the rules for this stuff? Did he have to formally invite her out on dates or could he assume she was available whenever he was free to see her? Hell, he didn't know. What if he blew it? Asked too much or gave too little? Obviously, being in love was very complicated. Very complicated indeed. Jeff edged himself off the bed, feeling suddenly restless and edgy. Glancing once more at Robin he headed into the bathroom, where he found a clean towel under the sink, then stepped into the shower. A few minutes later Robin stirred and opened her eyes. The sound of running water did not fit into the lovely dream of Jeff she was having. Jeff. Goodness, she certainly hoped that was who was presently in her shower, or she was in a lot of trouble. So! she thought. This was the morning after, the time for the tears and wails of remorse for irrational actions. She laughed softly. She felt marvelous mentally and physically. She was in love, and loved in return by the most magnificent man in the world, in the universe! Their lovemaking had been a celebration, a symphony. There weren't words yet invented to describe it. What would she and Jeff do with this lazy Sunday? she wondered. There it was again. The glaring fact that they had, in actuality, so veiy little in common. She didn't want to watch football on television while Jeff read a book! She wanted them to be really together. Well, they'd just have to spend the day in bed. Delicious thought, but not veiy realistic. This was getting rather silly, Robin decided. She and Jeff were in love with each other. They didn't have to map out their activities like a summer camp. They'd simply do whatever they wanted to do and have a splendid time. Right?

The bathroom door opened and Jeff stepped into the bedroom, clad only in a towel that hung low on his narrow hips. Robin's gaze raked over his perfectly proportioned body and she shifted slightly under the blankets as desire surged through her. "Good morning," he said, coming to sit down on the edge of the bed. "I'm soriy if I woke you." "You're nice to wake up to." "Robin, are you all right?" "Are you asking me if I'm sorry about last night?" "Yes." "No, I certainly am not! I feel marvelous and I love you." She smiled. "How's that?" "Perfect." "And in case you're worried, I still respect you this morning, Mr. Webster." Jeff laughed, and the worry line on his forehead disappeared as he leaned over and kissed her very thoroughly. He mumbled something about being hungry for a big breakfast, and she said she would get up immediately and fix him one. As he drew away the blankets and trailed his fingers over her breasts, she asked how he wanted his eggs cooked. When she pulled the towel loose from his hips he said an omelet would be nice, and then food was forgotten. It was much later when they finally sat down at the table to eat. Robin had a good-sized portion of plain old scrambled eggs and toast, while Jeff consumed a fancy omelet he had concocted from leftovers he'd discovered in the refrigerator. No, Robin said firmly, she did not want a bite to see how it tasted. "You don't know what you're missing, kid," Jeff said.

"What would you like to do today?" she asked. "I assumed you were watching football on the tube." "Not necessarily." "Well, in that case, how would you like to drive up to Mount Lemmon and tromp around in the leaves?" "That sounds like fun!" "Then finish your dull, drab breakfast and we'll go-" They stopped at Jeff's long enough for him to change into fresh clothes and collect a heavy jacket before heading to the edge of town and the road leading up into the Catalina Mountains. The steep, winding drive up Mount Lemmon did not do much for the dull, drab breakfast in Robin's stomach. She was extremely relieved when the trip was over and they stepped out of the car to fill their lungs with the cold, clear air. They walked and talked, collected pretty multicolored leaves, gave different names to every squirrel they saw and drank mugs of hot chocolate at a rustic inn. Hours later they were snuggled on the sofa at Jeff's, enjoying the warmth and hypnotic beauty of the roaring fire in the hearth. "What time does your plane leave tomorrow morning?" he asked. "Eight." "I'll drive you to the airport." "I'd like that. I really should be getting home. I haven't even packed." "This trip is not making me a happy man," he said gruffly. "When they invited me to speak I was so excited, but now I really wish I weren't going. Ill probably stand up there and blurt out that being an independent businesswoman is fine, but nothing is better than the love of a gorgeous man."

"Am I gorgeous?" "You know you are, Jeff Webster. Now, sir, take me home so I can get organized for this junket I am undertaking." "Yes, ma'am, Miss Kent. Your wish is my command." "Then I wish you were going to San Diego with me." "Me, too, my sweet. Me too."Later, Robin lay alone in her bed, hugging the pillow that held the lingering aroma of Jeff. He had stretched out on the bedspread and watched her pack, passing judgment on the dresses she selected and declaring them all too sexy to be worn by a woman alone in the big city. She had finally rolled her eyes and told him to close his mouth. He had promptly pulled her into his arms and made sweet love to her. Much later, with one last searing kiss, he had said good night and quietly left the apartment. It had been a lovely day, she thought now. A fun day. A sharing day. She and Jeff had been together constantly, which was how it was supposed to be. Wasn't it? She had dreaded the thought of doing anything separate from Jeff during the long, lazy Sunday. She wanted them to find new interests that would involve them both. Was that wrong? Did it hint at possessiveness? A clinging-vine type whom Jeff would find suffocating? But didn't people in love spend every possible moment in each other's company? How should she know? She'd never been in love before! What if she made terrible mistakes and Jeff threw up his hands and said forget the whole thing? Maybe she should talk it over with him. Perish the thought. She'd had quite enough of appearing like a naive adolescent. But, darn it, how did two people who had practically nothing in common spend time together, and just how much of that precious commodity was the relationship allotted? Love was definitely confusing and far more complex than she had anticipated. Well, when all else failed, she thought, ask your mother. And just as soon as she got back from California, she would. The next morning Robin dressed in a kelly green wool dress and packed the last-minute items in her suitcase. She had not slept well, and had a headache

to show for her restless night. After two aspirin and a lengthy kiss from Jeff when he arrived, she felt slightly better. They beat the rush- hour traffic and had ample time before Robin's flight, so they headed for the coffee shop in the airport. "Will you call me and let me know where you're staying?" Jeff asked. "Yes. All the information is in a packet I'll pick up when I get there. I hope you'll think about me at ten, when you're on the bench drinking your soda." "I'm not going out there today. I'd miss you too much." "What a sweet thing to say, Jeff!" "It's true! I will also swim my little heart out the entire time you're gone." "Good. That will keep you off the streets and away from the bars." She laughed. "Yeah," he growled, draining his cup. "You know I don't want to go," she said softly. "Ignore me, Robin. I'm acting ridiculous. You'd think you were going to the moon. I just. . . Well, I love you, and that gives me license to worry about you and wish you were beside me." "It does?" "Of course." "Do you know a lot about this being in love business, Jeff?" "Not really. This is my first shot at it, you know." "Darn." "Why?"

"Because parts of it are rather confusing." "I thoroughly agree." He nodded. "However, how tough can it be? You and I communicate extremely well, and well just talk over anything that gets muddled up." That sure sounded good, he thought, but would It work? "Okay." Bad plan, she thought. Very bad. He'd know what a dope she was about all of this. "Want six more cups of coffee?" "No, thanks." "Damn. I was hoping I'd get you to miss your plane." Apparently, Robin mused as the plane taxied down the runway, it was socially acceptable for prominent Tucson attorneys to kiss the living daylights out of their lovers in crowded airports. Either that or Jeffrey Webster didn't give a damn what people thought. Her legs were still trembling from the passionate embrace, and a delicious shiver swept over her as she pictured the reunion she would have with Jeff upon her return. San Diego was overcast and chilly, and Robin sneezed a half dozen times during the ride from the airport to the convention center. Her escort was an attractive woman in her thirties, who ran a successful boutique as well as managing a home, husband, and four children. Her speech would be on the successful working mother, she informed Robin. "I don't see how you handle it," Robin said. "Do you have time for your husband?" "It's quality, not quantity, that matters." "But what do you do together?" "Besides sex?" "Well, yes."

"We go off on a fabulous two-week trip every summer," the woman said. "That's it?" "Just about. We're both very busy, and there are four kids to tend to, remember. But we're happy, so. . ." "Oh." Robin nodded, and sneezed again. No, thank you! she thought. It's a wonder the woman could recall her husband's name. Quality, not quantity? Blah! At the hotel she was shown to a sterile but adequate room, and was glad to learn that all the conference meetings would be held in the hotel. The opening speech was at one, and Robin used the time available to unpack and eat lunch. Her nose was now running like a faucet, and she bought severed packets of cutesy little purse-sized tissues to get her through the afternoon. Her speech was scheduled for two the next day, and she was positive she would look like a descendant of Rudolph's by then. The next hours were interesting, and Robin met a multitude of enterprising businesswomen from across the country. She joined a woman named Connie in the coffee shop during a break in the program. Connie traveled a great deal, giving speeches on time management, and Robin jumped right in and asked her The Question, as she now referred to it in her mind. "What do my husband and I do together?" Connie repeated. "Right." "Play chess." "Pardon me?" "We have an ongoing game. Whenever I'm out of town I call him with my next move. It makes us feel closer together. Nice, huh?" "Lovely," Robin muttered. She didn't know how to play chess! So much for Connie's great idea.

Two other women who joined them at the table were divorced, and added nothing to Robin's empty mental notebook on togetherness. By now she had developed a roaring headache and her throat hurt, in addition to her nonstop runnynose. The conference was rapidly losing its stimulating sparkle. At last the order of business was concluded for the day, and Robin returned to her room with a grateful sigh. She felt lousy. She also wanted to talk to Jeff, but decided it was too early to find him at home. She assumed he had meant she should phone him at the house, not at the office, where he'd be too busy to talk to her. After a quick dinner of soup and crackers, she took a warm bath, swallowed two more aspirin, and crawled between the bed sheets, willing the time to pass quickly so she could hear the sound of Jeff's voice. The screaming siren of a police car brought her out of a deep sleep, and she sat straight up in bed, blinking in confusion as she looked at her travel alarm. "Oh. no!" she said. "Eight o'clock!" Snatching up the telephone she quickly dialed Jeff's number, waiting breathlessly for him to answer. "Hello." "Jeff?" "Where the hell have you been?" he roared. "Huh? Oh, I fell asleep. I'm sorry, I" "Since nine this morning? I've been a wreck all day, Robin!" "But I figured you wanted me to call you after work!" "Did I say that?" "No, but"

"I thought the plane had crashed, or you'd been mugged or something. What's wrong with your voice? You sound funny." "My throat hurts." "You're sick?" "Jeff, please stop yelling. I have a terrible headache and" "You are sick! That's just terrific. You're a million miles from home and you've caught a dread disease!" "Jeff, for heaven's sake! I have a little cold, that's all. I really wish you'd quit hollering at me." "I'm sorry, babe," he said quietly. "I've been worried about you since this morning. How do you really feel?" "Medium." "What?" "Not dying, but not wonderful. Just medium." "Come home. I'll fix you chicken soup and orange juice." "With hollandaise sauce?" "Of course." "I miss you, Jeff." "Don't get me started on how much I miss you, pretty Robin. Give me your phone number there. I want to call in the morning and see if you're any better." They chatted for several more minutes, during which Robin sneezed three times. Jeff groaned. She apologized, and he said to take the next plane

home. After several softly spoken declarations of their love they said good night. Robin hung up the receiver, slid down the pillow, and promptly fell asleep. Jeffrey Webster, however, did not. At midnight he was pacing his living room floor with a deep scowl on his face. Being in love, he had decided at approximately 10:00 P.M., was not fun. By eleven it was the pits. And now, at the stroke of twelve, he was the fool of the year for having succumbed to the emotionally depleting state. He had never in his entire life been so frustrated. Robin was sick! Sick, for Pete's sake, and he couldn't even go hold her hand. She was all alone in a strange town andHad she felt so terrible she'd forgotten to lock her door? There were weirdos in this world! He was getting an ulcer, he was sure of it. He'd waited all day to hear from Robin to know she had arrived safely. He had barked at Lois once too often, and the dear woman had burst into tears. He was a rat. Well, he'd given her the rest of the day off to make up for it. For thirty-six years Jeff had been responsible only for himself, except for punching out a few guys in his youth when they insulted Carol. But now? It was as if he had been torn in two and half of him was lying sick in bed in a sleazy hotel in San Diego. Well, it probably wasn't sleazy. But, dammit, was love supposed to be this upsetting? What had happened to rose petals and dreamy smiles? He wanted Robin right there next to him. Now. This minute. Oh, hell, he thought, he was going to bed!

When the telephone rang the next morning, Robin opened one eye and shut off her alarm. When that action didn't quell the shrill noise she sat up and frowned, finally realizing what the source of the disturbing summons was, and snatched up the receiver. " 'Lo," she croaked, her hand immediately flying to her throat. "Robin?"

"Yes, Jeff. How are you?" "Robin?" "Yes!" "You sound like a gravelly-voiced . . . man." "I do? You're right. My voice is weird. Oh, my, how am I going to give my speech?" "Tell them you had a sex change. Do you feel rotten?" "I don't know. I haven't been awake long enough to ask myself. Let's see. Still medium, I guess." "Robin, I'm going crazy over here worrying about you!" "Are you going to start yelling at me again? I'm really not in the mood, Jeff Webster!" "No. No, I'm not, and I'm sorry. Besides, with that voice you sound like someone who could deck me, so I'll mind my manners." "I should hope so. Want to come eat breakfast with me?" "There's lots of things I'd like to come do with you. Miss Kent." "My, my." "Well, knock 'em dead today. I'll call you tonight. And, Robin?" "Yes?" "Please take care of yourself. For me. I love you, you know." "Yes, I know, and I'm so glad you do. I love you too. Oh, by the way, do you play chess?"

"Yes, why?" "Figures." She frowned. True to form. He did it, so she didn't. This had definitely gotten out of hand. "Are we having an in-depth discussion about chess, Robin?" "Don't be silly. I don't even know how to play." "Then why ... Do you have a fever?" "I don't know. Jeff, I think it would be really terrific if we got a hobby. You know, something we could do together." "We have one. First we take off our clothes. Then we" "Oh, for Pete's sake!" "I'm late for work, sexy voice. Have a good day and stay out of drafts." "Yes, sir." " 'Bye, babe." "Good-bye, Jeff." Sex was not a hobby! she thought as she hung up. Was it?

CHAPTER SEVEN Robin's voice was almost entirely gone by the time she gave her speech, and she decided she had given a fine impersonation of a heavy breather as she gasped into the microphone. She received a polite round of applause as she sank wearily back onto her chair. She was immediately descended upon by a plump older woman named Mrs. Vanderworp, who was in charge of the entire conference. "You poor child," Mrs. Vanderworp clucked. "You're ill." "I'm sorry about my speech," Robin whispered, and then sneezed. "Oh, it was marvelous! What we could hear of it." "Mrs. Vanderworp, I really think I should go home. I'm liable to contaminate everyone here." "Of course, dear. I know when I'm sick the only place I want to be is in my own little bed. We do appreciate your coming all this way. You're a real inspiration to the young women of today." Robin mumbled her thanks and staggered out into the hall, making her way dizzily up to her room. Once there, she flopped across the bed and slept for an hour without moving. When she awoke, she decided she'd have to die to feel better. After a warm bath and a change of clothes she telephoned the airport and whispered that she desperately needed to change her reservation. The clerk on duty automatically whispered back. She was, however, granted her wish, and then called Jeff. "Mr. Webster," Lois said, rushing into his office. "Hmmm?"

"There's a woman on the phone who's whispering at me." "Why would she do that?" "I don't know. I can hardly hear her, but I could swear she said she was Robin Kent." "What?" He snatched up the receiver. "Robin? Is that you?" "Yes." "What?" "Yes!" "Where's your voice?" "I lost it. Jeff, I'm coming home. Can you meet me at the airport at six-twelve?" "Of course! Oh, babe, you sound awful." " 'Bye." "Yeah, okay. I'll see you soon," he said, hanging up the receiver. "Dammit!" "That really was Miss Kent?" Lois said. "Yes, and she's in California and sick as a dog. I'm picking her up at the airport. I wonder if I should take her straight to a doctor?" "What's wrong with her?" "She caught a cold and now she can't even talk." "She doesn't need a doctor. All it takes is TLC." "Huh?"

"Tender, loving care," Lois said. "Write this down." "Huh?" "Pencil and paper!" "Yes, all right. Go ahead." "Okay, listen up. Put her to bed and keep her warm. Aspirin every four hours and plenty of liquids. Hot tea and warm lemonade are great for a sore throat. Light broth and dry toast comes later. Got that?" "Yes. Anything else?" "Throw in a lot of sympathy, some pretty flowers, and she'll be good as new in no time at all." "Are you sure, Lois?" "Trust me. I raised five kids without killing one of them." "You're a peach," Jeff said, getting up and kissing her on the cheek. "Cancel my appointments. I've got to go buy this stuff and then get to the airport. Oh, and clear my calendar for tomorrow. I won't be in." "Didn't think you would be." Lois smiled. "Off you go, Dr. Webster." "I'm gone," he said, sprinting out the door. "Ain't love grand?" she chortled merrily.

Jeff didn't arrive at the airport at six-twelve. He was there at five-thirteen. He then proceeded to pace restlessly in the waiting area by the gate, glancing at his watch every few seconds and frowning. When the plane was ten minutes late, he was a total wreck.

"Robin!" he shouted when at last she appeared. "Oh, Jeff," she whispered, nearly collapsing into his arms. "I have never felt so rotten in my life." "Shhh, don't talk, it's bad for your throat. Let's get out of here." She offered no objection when he circled her shoulders with his arm and led her away. He placed her carefully in a chair while he collected her suitcase from the luggage-claim ramp, and the next thing she knew she was seated in his car and they were driving back into town. Leaning her head on the top of the seat, she closed her eyes and fell asleep. Jeff sent mental messages to every police officer in Tucson to go on a coffee break as he drove above the speed limit all the way to his house in the foothills. Robin looked terrible, he thought frantically. She was gray, except for a very red nose and two bright spots of color on her much-too-warm cheeks. But now he was in charge, and he would fix her up, by heaven. He knew he shouldn't have let her go to California alone. It was damp and chilly out there, and, sure enough, she'd gotten sick. Well, she wouldn't go again, that was certain. She belonged to him now, and there would be no more of that kind of nonsense! She'd stay home, where he could watch over her. Wouldn't she? They were in love with each other, so she'd refuse to leave him again. Wouldn't she? Yes, dammit, she would! Jeff pulled up in front of the house and quickly ran around the car to open the door on the passenger side. "Robin?" he said, gently shaking her shoulder. "Wake up, babe, we're home." "What? Oh, thank goodness. Jeff, I don't live here!" "For now you do. I'm not leaving you alone until you're better. I'm taking you in the house and putting you to bed." "How lovely," she whispered, a crooked smile on her face.It was all a vague blur to Robin. She was soon clad in her nightie and tucked beneath the blankets on Jeff's big bed. He had, she supposed, removed her clothes to accomplish the task, but she really didn't remember. Jeff had seemed to

carry on a nonstop conversation with her that sounded like bumblebees buzzing in her ears. But now, ecstasy that it was, she was flat on her back, and she never intended to move again. She had swallowed the aspirin he had given her and dutifully drunk the orange juice. Just before she fell asleep she had the comforting thought that she was with Jeff, where she belonged, and everything was going to be fine. Provided, of course, she didn't croak before morning. Hours later she opened her eyes and wondered where in the heck she was. A soft glow lit the large room, and when she turned her head she saw Jeff propped up next to her on the bed, fully clothed, his nose buried in a thick novel. "Hi," she said, sounding remarkably like a frog. "Hey, look who's here." He smiled. "Complete with sexy voice." "What time is it?" "It's eleven twenty-two," he said, glancing at his watch. "I slept all those hours?" "Yep. Best thing for you. I'll go get you something to drink and your dose of aspirin." "Jeff, you're being so wonderful, and I'm such a nuisance..." "Yes, I am, and no, you're not," he said, as he left the room. A few minutes later Robin was sipping some warm lemonade, which felt marvelous sliding down her raw throat. Jeff sat next to her on the edge of the bed and stared at her intently. "Don't look at me," she said. "I'm a mess." "You're beautiful. You're also never going on another trip alone ... are you?"

"Not that I know of. It was not the high point of my life. At least my voice is coming back, even though it's weird. Jeff, thank you for taking care of me. The flowers are lovely." "Hey, I love you, remember? That's not just for the good times. It also includes such crises as runny noses and pink cheeks." "Will you get sick some time so I can watch over you?" "Nope." "Bull." "True, but I am very healthy." "Probably comes from swimming so much." "Could be. Okay, back to sleep. I'm the doctor in charge here." "Aren't you going to, um, check me over?" "From head to toe, as soon as you're well," he said, kissing her quickly. Robin was asleep within minutes, and Jeff thought rather smugly that she looked better. He was doing a helluva good job taking care of her. She was so cute, with her red turned-up nose. Yep, she was coming along fine. Tomorrow he'd fix her some soup and toast and . . . take her home? No! Not yet. She needed more TLC, as Lois called it. Satisfied with his reasoning, he pulled off his shoes and stretched out on his side of the bed. He'd decided to sleep in his clothes and on top of the spread, which would mean he'd be rather uncomfortable and only doze on and off. He'd hear Robin if she awoke in the night and called for him. Great plan. Yes, sir, he was doing a helluva job.

Robin slept until nearly nine the next morning and yawned leisurely when she awoke. She figured Jeff was at work and decided to make herself some tea and toast. After a trip to the bathroom she padded down the hallway, and entered the living room just as Jeff came in the other way, from the kitchen. "Aaak!" she screamed. "Ow!" she added, her hand flying to her throat. "Why are you up?" Jeff yelled. "Why are you here?" "I live here! Go back to bed!" "I was going to get some breakfast. I thought you had gone to work." "I took the day off so I could take care of you." "Really?" she said, smiling brightly. He chuckled. "Really. Now, you get your cute tush back in bed and I'll bring you something to eat." "I'll sit in the kitchen." "No!" "Okay!" she said, and marched back down the hall. Jeff produced a tray containing toast, tea, warm lemonade, a bowl of chicken broth, a spoon, and a blue linen napkin. He sat on the edge of the bed and urged Robin to eat as much as possible. "Enough, and thank you," she said finally. "You did pretty well," he said, setting the tray on the floor. "How about a nap?"

"I'm not tired now. Jeff, won't it mess up your schedule if you don't go in to work?" "Don't worry about it. I am now the resident physician. " "And doing a splendid job. I haven't been so pampered since I was a little girl." "It's called TLC." "Ah, tender, loving care." He frowned. "How did you know that?" "I grew up on it. I think my voice is really getting better, don't you?" "You sound like E.T." "Oh, thanks a bunch!" "You're welcome." "Jeff, remember when we were talking on the phone and I said that maybe we should get a hobby that we could do together?" "Yep," he said, a deep, throaty chuckle rumbling up from his chest. He was rewarded with a punch on the arm from Robin. "Would you get serious?" she said. "Oh. Yes, of course," he said, his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. "Speak." "Well, you see, I do understand that our interests don't match up very well. You know, football, food, music. You swim and golf and I jog and play tennis, stuff like that. We are individuals with separate likes and dislikes, which is all very well and good. I guess. However! It does occur to me that it would be advantageous to our relationship if we had a mutual interest and

therefore could spend more time together rather than going our separate ways to engage in individual activities." "Oh." "That's all you have to say?" "I'm digesting your dissertation, counselor. I get so caught up with your sexy voice it's hard for me to concentrate." "Jeff!" "Yes! Well! Let's see, here. This is important to you, isn't it?" "It just worries me a little that we don't have an awfully lot in common." "It does?" "Yes." "But we love each other, Robin. We want to be together""Doing what? And don't say making love, because that's already on the agenda." "That's good. I like the way your mind works. Okay, a hobby. Like basket-weaving?" "That doesn't sound too wonderful." She frowned. "Maybe we'd better give this some thought. Basket-weaving? No, that's definitely not it." "I'll think about it, I promise. Now you take a nap, pretty Robin." "All right. Thank you for the breakfast." "My pleasure," he said, kissing her tweaky red nose. Robin was asleep within minutes, and Jeff picked up the tray and returned to the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of coffee and wandered out onto the patio.

A hobby, he thought. A hobby? What a crazy idea. But he could tell that Robin was very serious about this. She was sincerely concerned about their tastes being so far apart. If they loved each other, what difference did it make? The football, food, and music were insignificant details, but if it was important to her he'd go along with it. They'd find a hobby. Women's minds sure worked in funny ways sometimes. When two people were in love, that was all that mattered. Right? Right. When Robin awoke an hour later she stretched and smiled. She and Jeff were going to have a hobby they could do together, she thought. Super. He hadn't seemed overly excited about the idea, but he hadn't refused. Goodness, didn't he see the potential danger in their really having nothing to share? Being in love was wonderful, fantastic, excellent, but they couldn't spend all their time making love and gazing into each other's eyes. Maybe men had tunnel vision about love. They simply saw it as a nice place to be and went merrily on their way. Well, she knew people had to work at a relationship, and the hobby would help her and Jeff do that. Yes, it was going to be great. Robin convinced a scowling Jeff that she would not die of pneumonia if she took a bath. When she was clad once more in her nightie they watched an old Charlie Chaplin movie on television. "Do you think you could handle scrambled eggs for dinner?" Jeff asked. "Plain?" "I thought I'd add some salt." "You're on. Then I must go home." "No!" "Jeff, I have to go to work tomorrow." "Absolutely not. No way."

"Jeff, I'm not sick anymore." "You're weak, run-down, susceptible to germs, and need your rest." "I only have a cold, and it's almost gone!" "One more day." "No." "Robin, please, do this my way. Stay here tonight and tomorrow. Ill have to go to the office but I'll call you every chance I get. If you push yourself you might have a relapse. Twenty-four more hours, okay?" "I guess so." "Good. I'll make dinner." Robin consumed every bite of her eggs and did not ask Jeff what the strange lump of stuff on his plate was. Later they read the evening paper, then Robin picked up a magazine from the coffee table and started leafing through it. "Here we go!" she said suddenly, pointing to a page. "Where are we going?" Jeff asked absently. He was reading the stock-market report. "Photography! Our hobby! Look at this camera. Nifty, huh?" "Big bucks." "We don't buy it, we rent it. Well?" "Huh? Oh, sure, if that's what you want to do, we'll do it. Well take pictures." "Oh, Jeff, we're going to have such fun!"

"If you say so." "Can we start this weekend?" "Depends on how you're feeling." "I'll be fine. Oh, I can hardly wait!" Jeff smiled and returned his attention to the newspaper, then looked again at Robin, who was busily reading all the fine print in the camera advertisement. Photography? he thought. Oh, well, why not? Anything would be better than football games. They watched a documentary on television about the spawning habits of salmon which reminded Robin of the fish with the eyeball. When it was over Jeff insisted she go to bed and get a good night's sleep. "I'm not tired," she said, knowing she sounded like a pouting child but not particularly caring. "March!" "Pooh!" "I'll come tuck you in. Now. go!" "I'm going, but I'm not happy about it!" she said, stomping down the hall to the accompaniment of Jeff's throaty chuckle. Robin washed her face and brushed her teeth, then stood in the middle of the bedroom, staring at the door. Jeff had been wonderful while she was sick, but enough was enough. She was fine now, and didn't even sound like E.T. anymore. Jeff's TLC had done the trick, and she felt pampered and loved . . . and lonely. Well, she'd just have to remedy the situation. Tuck her in indeed! She'd see about that!

Robin quickly pulled off her nightie and stuffed it in her suitcase, then crawled into bed and pulled the blankets up to her chin. In a few minutes, Jeff came into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. "All set?" he asked. "Oh, yes, I'm quite prepared to ... go to bed." "Well, I'll say good night, then." "You can give me a kiss," she said, sitting up and letting the blankets slide down. "I'm sure I'm not contagious anymore." Jeff gasped, his gaze roaming over her bare breasts. "Robin, II don't think ..." "Yes? What is it?" she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You need to rest." "I will. Later," she said, her tongue drawing a lazy circle around his mouth as her fingers inched into his thick hair. "Robin!" he said, his voice strained. "Hmmm?" she said, placing a ribbon of kisses over his face and down the strong column of his neck. That did it. Jeff groaned and in one motion flattened Robin against the bed and covered her body with his. "Hello," she said, a bubble of laughter escaping from her lips. "You're evil and wicked and I love you," he said huskily. "They'll revoke my doctor's license." "But I feel fine."

"You feel more than fine," he said, his hands caressing her breasts. "Heavenly is a better word." "Come to bed. You need your rest." It was ecstasy. Jeff quickly shed his clothes and stretched out next to her. He moved tentatively as if afraid he would break her, as though she were a piece of delicate china, until she took matters into her own hands. She kissed and touched, and pressed her body against his, until he was trembling and his breathing was raspy and labored. Then, with a vehemence that delighted her, he moved over her and consumed her with a bold thrust that took her breath away. Forgotten were the red nose, sore throat, and TLC. There was only that moment, the soaring away from reality and reason, the climb to their place above the stars. Robin called to Jeff as the world exploded about her, and she felt his massive frame shudder above her. In a mindless daze of bliss they drifted back to earth, and Jeff rolled onto his side and pulled Robin close. "Shame on you," he said. "I know. I'm awful." "You're wonderful, and I love you." "I love you, too, Jeff. So much." "Go to sleep, pretty Robin."

When Robin awoke the next morning she was all alone except for a note on Jeff's pillow telling her to have a nice day and not overdo it. In an act of defiance she stuck her tongue out at the note, then headed for the shower, where she sang at the top of her lungs. She felt terrific except for a slight stuffiness in her head, and relished the feel of her breasts, which were still

sensitive from her love- making with Jeff. For someone who had been a reluctant participant in the event, he had sure caught up in a hurry! Wishing she had comfortable jeans along, Robin settled for a royal-blue pants suit she had packed for her trip and, after making the bed, headed for the kitchen to make some breakfast. She busied herself cleaning up after her meal and then decided she was bored. Her glance fell on the magazine that held the advertisement for the camera, and a few minutes later she was searching through the telephone book for a store that rented the equipment. Her project was interrupted by a call from Jeff, and she assured him she was fit as a fiddle. An hour later, Robin was bubbling with excitement. All arrangements were made to pick up a camera, complete with operating instructions, on Saturday morning. It was going to be a great hobby, she thought, and she and Jeff would spend hours together perfecting the intricate techniques. With a gasp, she realized she hadn't contacted Denise and quickly called her secretary, informing her she'd be in the next morning. All was well at Kent's Temps., Denise said, and Robin was not to worry about a thing. Robin managed to while away the day by becoming engrossed in a mystery novel she discovered on Jeff's bookshelf. She defrosted pork chops she found in the freezer and planned a dull, drab meat- and-potato dinner which was ready to be put on the table when Jeff arrived home. "Hello," he said, pulling her into his arms and kissing her. "Something smells good." "Me and your supper," she said, her heart racing at the sight, the feel, the aroma of the man who held her tightly. "It's very ordinary, but nourishing. Lie to me and say it's delicious and you enjoyed every bite." He chuckled. "Got it. I'll change my clothes and we'll dig in." Jeff raved on about the meal with such nonstop exuberance that Robin finally laughed and told him to knock it off. She then explained that they were to pick up the rented camera on Saturday morning.

"Okay," he said. "What are we going to take pictures of?" "I don't know. Flowers, trees, the mountains, stuff like that." "We could do nude shots. There's a great market for those." "Jeff!" "No, huh? Robin, why do we want a picture of the mountains, when we can look out the window and see them?" "Because it's our hobby." "Oh." Later Robin sat in a lounge chair and watched Jeff swim. His muscles were tight, he said, from a grueling day, which had kept him glued to his chair. She marveled at his stamina and the smooth, fluid motion of his perfectly proportioned body as it cut through the water. He wasn't even breathing heavily when he emerged an hour later and said he was headed for a hot shower. The air was chilly, and Robin assured him that if he caught a cold she'd fix him up with TLC. The fact that she followed him right into the shower brought a whoop of surprised delight from Jeff, and they spent a great deal of time soaping each other's glistening bodies. They then carefully dried each other with soft, fluffy towels, which resulted in their tumbling onto the bed and urgently making love. They were both subdued, however, as they dressed and Robin gathered her belongings and packed them in her suitcase. They glanced often at each other, but did not speak. "I liked having you in my home, my bed, Robin," Jeff said finally as he drove them to her apartment. "Yes, it was lovely," she said softly. "Very special."

"Will you meet me on the bench at ten tomorrow?" "Of course." At her apartment, he kissed her until she could hardly breathe, then told her to go to bed early and he'd see her in the morning. He turned at the door and gazed at her for a long moment, then left, quietly shutting the door behind him. Robin stood perfectly still in the silent room, acutely aware that she missed Jeff already. She wanted him there with her, wanted to fall asleep in his arms and wake up next to him in the morning. How intense love was, she thought, how quickly one became an extension of the other. She sighed and, picking up her suitcase, walked into the bedroom to unpack. Once finished, she suddenly remembered she had not written to her mother, and dialed the familiar number in Prescott. "Hello." "Hi, Mom." "Oh, Robin, how good to hear from you. My mailbox has been sadly bare." "I know, and I'm sorry. I had that conference in San Diego." "How was it?" "Awful. I caught a cold. Mom, II've met the most wonderful man and . . . well..." "What's his name?" "Jeff Webster. He's an attorney. Oh, Mom, he's" Robin laughed. "Do you have an hour? Ill just rave on and on." "You're in love."

"Yes. Yes, I am." "I'm so happy for you, dear." "This will probably sound dumb, Mom, but thereare things about being in love that are rather confusing." "Such as?" "I want to be with Jeff every possible minute but I'm afraid I might come across as aa clinging vine." "That will fall into place, Robin. Your relationship with Jeff is new, and it will take awhile to establish some comfortable patterns. I would guess hell want to be with you, too, and I don't see its becoming a problem." "You make It sound so simple." "It is!" "There's something else too." "Oh?" "Jeff and I have very different interests. He hates football, he's a gourmet cook, only listens to classical music, and he swims like a fish." "I see." "Well?" "Well what?" "It's terrible! We have nothing in common! We're going to get a hobby we can do together." "Was that your idea, silly girl?"

"Yes! I think it's important that we have something to share, don't you?" "No comment. Do keep me posted on this." "Aren't you going to give me some motherly advice?" "Mercy, no! You're all grown up now, Robin. You need to work these things out with Jeff without my poking my old nose in your business." "Well, darn." "Be happy, my darling. I'll talk to you soon." "Good night. Mom." Well, for Pete's sake, Robin thought as she hung up the receiver. Had her mother retired from motherhood? Her only daughter was in love for the first time and Elizabeth was leaving her entirely on her own, possibly to make terrible mistakes. That was not kind! And what was the vague little hint that the marvelous hobby plan was silly? It was not silly! It was an extremely intelligent, well-thought- out endeavor. And furthermore The ringing of the telephone brought Robin out of her reverie, and she answered it halfway through the first ring. "I miss you," Jeff said, omitting the usual greeting. "That makes me feel better, because I miss you, too, and misery loves company." "Why aren't you in bed?" "Because this strange man is talking my ear off. No, actually, I called my mother." "Uh-oh, am I in trouble?"

"No, you're not. She's quite delighted that her baby daughter is madly in love." "Good for her baby daughter. Mrs. Kent's kid has excellent taste in men." "You're being conceited again, Jeff," she said, laughing. "Facts are facts. Well, I'd better let you get some sleep. Don't give one thought to me wandering around this big, empty house all alone. And don't think about me tossing and turning through the endless hours of the night because you're not next to me. Do not dwell on my loneliness and this body that aches for you. Okay?" "Okay," she said merrily. "Dammit, Robin, have you no heart?" "Good night, Jeff. I love you." "I can take a hint. Ill see you in the morning. I love you, pretty Robin." Jeff slowly replaced the receiver and leaned his head back on the top of the sofa. He did miss Robin. He missed her so much it was almost frightening. It had been so good to come home and find her here. He'd liked seeing her toothbrush in the bathroom, which had smelled lemony and fresh from her washing her hair. The house had seemed happy and alive, echoing with her lilting laughter. Now it was cold and empty. The night ahead in that bed was going to be long and lonely. Whew! he thought. He was in bad shape. When he fell in love he didn't mess around. He really went off the deep end! Wait until Carol and Ryan heard about this. They'd roll on the floor laughing.

Robin was extremely busy the next morning from the minute she arrived at the office. She began contacting the business establishments that had used Kent's Temps, for extra help during the Christmas season the previous year. She got firm orders from everyone, and at ten rushed outside to meet Jeff. He kissed her before she could speak.

"Feeling all right?" he asked when they were seated on the bench with their sodas. "Fine, and it's a good thing, because I have tons to do. I'm securing spots for my people as sales- clerks for Christmas." "Already?" "Oh, yes. They'll go in in a few weeks and stay on through January, for the returning and exchanging of gifts. I'm hoping to get some more clients too. There are new stores in the Foothills Mall, and I'll pay them personal visits. It makes it convenient for the merchants, because they don't have to fuss with interviewing and all that. My troops just show up and get to work." "It sounds as though you'll be busy," Jeff said. "Very. I have to meet with the managers at their convenience and some work odd hours. I won't just disappear on you, Jeff. I'll let you know if I can't meet you out here or if I have to go in the evening." "At night?" "Sometimes it's necessary in order to catch up with the person in charge." "But why are you hustling more business?" he asked, frowning. "I thought you were doing quite well." "Oh, I am! But I can't sit back and totally relax. It's a competitive area, and I have to keep the Kent's Temps, name in the front of people's minds. I'm constantly running ads for competent workers, too, since I'm always losing those who take permanent positions someplace." "I guess I think of you as my Robin," Jeff said thoughtfully, "and forget that you're an independent businesswoman who's quite capable of taking care of herself." "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. When you were sick and I watched over you it made me feel terrific, important. I lost track of the fact that you functioned perfectly fine before I came into your life." "But it was wonderful having you pamper me, Jeff. I felt very special and very loved." "Yeah, but I feel protective about you whether you're sick or well. I don't like the idea of your meeting some joker in his office at night!" "They're reputable businessmen!" "I don't care! I love you and you're my lady. That gives me the right to worry about you!" "Yes, it does, I suppose," she said, her voice rising slightly. "But it does not automatically hand you a permit to hassle me over the way I run my company! I don't try to tell you how to be a lawyer! I seem to recall that you even had dinner with one of your clients." "That's different!""Why?" "Because I'm a man and" "I can't believe you said that!" she yelled, jumping to her feet. "Jeffrey Webster, you are aa male chauvinist!" "I am?" he said, his eyes widening. "I didn't know that. No, I certainly am not!" "Then what would you call it?" "I'm the man who loves you and" "So?" "So, dammit," he said, standing up and waggling a long finger at her, "that gives me some say about what you do and where you go!"

"The hell it does!" she hollered, turning and marching away. "Where are you going?" "None of your damn business!" she said over her shoulder. "Robin!" he bellowed, then in frustration crushed the soda cans in his large hands. He hurled them into the trash barrel and strode back into the building. "Mr. Webster," Lois said, "I" "Not now," he growled, stalking into his office. "There's trouble in romance land," Lois muttered.

Robin sat slouched in her chair and willed herself not to cry. Jeff was infuriating! she thought. The nerve of the man, to tell her she had no business making calls on those managers at night. Who did Jeff Webster think he was? Her keeper? Just because he loved her didn't give him the right to control her life, especially when it came to Kent's Temps. He was being so damn pushy! He was a chauvinist, the rat. She refused to cry. Oh, hell, who was she kidding? She hurried into the bathroom and shut the door, turning on the water to drown the sound of her tears.

Dammit, Jeff fumed, hitting the top of his desk with his fist. Robin was not being reasonable. Did she expect him to sit idly by while she went traipsing all over town at some god-awful hour to see men in back rooms? And she'd let him know when she could fit him into her schedule? Ha! He absolutely, positively was not a chauvinist! He was simply a man who intended to take care of his woman, and, by heaven, that was what he'd do. Robin was just

going to have to understand that things were different now. He'd give her time to calm down, and then they were going to have a talk about this. He pushed himself to his feet and walked to the other end of the office for a cup of coffee, a deep scowl on his face. Robin had been terribly upset, really angry, he thought. Well, they'd work this out. Wouldn't they? Yes, of course. It was only a simple misunderstanding. Wasn't it? "Damn," he muttered. "What if I made her cry?"

CHAPTER EIGHT Robin explained away her swollen eyes and blotchy face by telling Denise that the awful cold had resurfaced and she was going home to bed. Denise clucked her sympathies, and Robin rushed out the door, faking a sneeze as she went. In actuality, she had no intention of going to her apartment and facing the empty rooms. She ended up in Reid Park, sitting on a grassy slope overlooking a pond that contained a multitude of squawking ducks. She had never been so miserable in her life. Having a wing-ding argument with the man you loved was definitely not a barrel of laughs. But Jeff had made her so mad! What did he want her to be? Some starry-eyed creature who melted when he walked into the room? Well, her heart did do a funny little dance every time she saw him, but that was beside the point. She was a successful businesswoman, independent, self-sufficient, and no stuffed-shirt lawyer was going to tell her when she could or couldn't call on prospective clients! "So there!" she said to a duck that had waddled out of the water and wandered up to where she sat. "I ask you, duck, was Jeff being fair? He said he would worry if I saw men at night and . . . Well, that was rather dear, I guess. I mean, I'd feel terrible if he didn't care about what I did. And then I did just come barreling out there and tell him how busy I was going to be, with no warning. Gosh, duck, do you think I overreacted a little? Not a lot, just a little?" The duck quacked. "You do? I was wrong?" She jumped to her feet. "Lord, why am I talking to a stupid duck?" She gave the duck an icy glare and headed for her car. Now where would she go? She suddenly felt like a child who had stormed out the front door to find herself standing alone in the yard, unable to figure out a gracious way to get back inside without losing face. She had to talk to Jeff. The fact that they were upset with each other was giving her a stomachache. Damn, this being in love stuff was exhausting! One second everything was wonderful and then, whammo! Her life was in the blender!

Robin drove slowly to her apartment. She stepped out of the elevator on her floor with a defeated sigh. Then she gasped when she saw a tall figure leaning against her door. "Jeff!" she said, hurrying to his side. "What are you doing here?" "Looking for you," he said gruffly. "Your secretary said you went home sick, and I came right over. You, however, were not here!" "Oh, I. . . Well, I. . ." "Could we get out of the hall?" "Of course." She opened the door quickly, after glancing once more at Jeff's stony expression. "Do I dare ask where you've been?" he questioned as they entered the living room. "I went to the park, because I was upset." "Diddid you cry, Robin?" he asked quietly. "Buckets," she said, flopping down on the sofa. "I couldn't help it. I mean, one minute we were chatting and then World War III broke out." "It was my fault." "No, it was mine." "Want to fight about it?" He grinned and sat down next to her. "No!" "I guess I came on too strong, Robin. I had no right to throw a fit about the way you conduct yourself for Kent's Temps. It was just the thought of your wandering around at night and meeting with those guys. That, plus the fact that I was suddenly feeling like I was playing second fiddle. I'm sorry. I was

way out of line. I'm not saying I like the idea of those evening appointments, but I'll keep my mouth shut." "Oh, Jeff, I shouldn't have dumped it on you like that. I could have explained that this is a very busy time for me, before I made it sound like you could like it or lump it. As for the men I see, I've never had a problem with them. They're all very professional. What happened to us, Jeff? We were suddenly at each other's throats. It frightens me to think we became so angry so quickly. We're in love, for heaven's sake! Does that include screaming at each other?" "I don't know. Yeah, I guess so. No two people are going to see eye-to-eye all the time. We're going to have our rocky moments." "The whole thing gave me a stomachache." "I'm sorry, babe." "So am I." "Come here," he said, pulling her into his arms. "I need to kiss you. Lord, I hate knowing I made you cry. I swore I would never do that." He kissed her sweetly, tenderly, then simply held her, stroking her hair. Neither moved or spoke for several minutes, then Jeff sighed and tilted her chin up with his finger. "I have to get back to the office," he said. "I really don't want to. What are you going to do?" "I'll stay here. I'm just not in the mood to spend the afternoon on the phone." "Want to go out to dinner?" "Yes, all right." "Smile, please? We're okay, Robin. We made a mistake, that's all. We're not perfect, and you must remember we're very new, sort of fragile. We're going

to gum things up once in a while. We just can't lose track of how much we love each other." "And I do love you, Jeff. More than I can even say." "Oh, babe," he said, and claimed her mouth once again in a kiss that went on and on. A very reluctant Jeff finally left the apartment with the promise to pick Robin up for dinner the moment he was finished at the office for the day. Robin felt drained, tired to the bone, and went into the bedroom for a nap. When she awoke two hours later she showered and dressed in fresh clothes, a gray wool skirt and soft yellow sweater. Her spirits were somewhat improved, but the memory of the scene in the courtyard kept drifting to the front of her mind, causing her to frown. She had somehow never envisioned love as being so complicated and unpredictable. It had never occurred to her that there might be difficulties over mundane things like one's work procedures or mode of conduct. She was frantically trying to find a hobby for her and Jeff to share, and now all these other problems were cropping up. Was this really normal? Whatever happened to rosy bliss? Jeff had said they were new, fragile. And when did they get old and tough, so they could just relax and enjoy? Tomorrow? Next week? Never? Were they kidding themselves about their relationship, their compatibility? Did love really conquer all? Why were they continually running into obstacles? Robin didn't know, but thinking about it was giving her another stomachache.

The afternoon moved slowly for Jeff, and it seemed like an eternity before he said good night to Lois and headed for Robin's apartment. What a helluva day, he thought as he drove along. He had made Robin cry, and the very thought of it made him cringe. He'd blown it, no doubt about it. But how did he shut off his desire to protect her, care for her? How did a man suppress those instincts?

He respected Robin for what she had accomplished with Kent's Temps. He wouldn't look twice at a bubble-head who couldn't cross the street without help. But it was that same drive and independence of hers that was threatening his role in her life. Would she only lean on him when she had a cold? It was all so damn confusing, and he didn't know where to find the answers. "Hi, babe," he said when Robin opened her door. She looked better, he thought. Not so tight and pale. They'd have a nice dinner and "Hi, yourself," she said. "Come in." Jeff was watching her closely, she could tell. They needed to have a pleasant evening together and Her thoughts were cut off by Jeff, pulling her hard against his chest and kissing her wildly. She willingly leaned against him, feeling his strength, relishing his aroma. He felt so good, and she loved him so much. Everything would be fine. It just had to be! She needed this man to love her, to share her days and nights, to see her through the good times and the bad. They had both waited so long to find the other, and nothing would destroy what they had. Nothing. "Oh, Robin," Jeff said softly, "this has not been a great day." "I know," she said, leaning her head on his chest. "How about Mexican food for dinner?" "You like it?" "Pancho's makes a great enchilada with sour cream." "Order me a plateful of tacos and you've got a deal." "You're on," he said, smiling warmly at her. "Dull, drab tacos." The meal was delicious, and they chatted and laughed as the tensions of the long day slowly dissipated, leaving them carefree and lighthearted. They both sensed the importance of putting all things aside for now and

concentrating only on each other. They basked in warm visual embraces, reached out often to touch each other, and lost track of conversations as they gazed into each other's eyes. It was serene, lovely, and fun, and they were still smiling when they returned to Robin's apartment. Their lovemaking began with soft, fluttering kisses and gently roaming hands, until the tempo increased and they came together in a burst of passion. They called to each other, declared their love time and again, and returned at last from ecstasy. Sleepy and contented, Robin smiled as Jeff kissed her, then cuddled her close to him. "We're supposed to pick up the camera in the morning," she said sleepily. "You bet. I'm going to take a picture of my house. Then, if someone steals it, I'll be able to remember what it looked like." She laughed. "You're crazy." "You're right about that, kid," he said, kissing her quickly. " 'Night." "Good night, Jeff."

The camera came with a book of instructions, and Robin had read the first three pages out loud by the time they got to Jeff's house the next morning. "Did any of that make sense?" she asked as they sat down on the sofa. "Nope. Let me see this thing. Good Lord!" he yelled as the flash suddenly went off. "Very good. You just took a picture of your knee." "All I did wasHey!" "Now we have two pictures of your knee," she said, laughing. "This isn't going so well." "Forget the flash gismo. We'll go outside," he said. "Come on."

On the back patio, he pointed out a nicely placed group of cacti and handed the camera to Robin. "There you go," he said. "A terrific nature shot." "I'm too far away," she said, holding the camera up to her eye. "They're just little specks." "Move closer." "Okay," she said, cautiously working her way forward as she continued to peer through the viewer. "Robin, hold it!" Jeff suddenly yelled. "Ow! Oh, ow!" "You bumped right into the cactus! Lord, your leg is full of stickers." "Ow! Ow!" Jeff scooped her up into his arms and carried her into the house, where he deposited her on the kitchen table. "Didn't you watch where you were going?" he asked. "They still looked far away through the camera. Ow! I'm a porcupine!" "I'll get some tweezers." The thorny intruders removed at last, Jeff said they should take a break from the disastrous endeavor. "No, not yet," Robin said, sliding off the table. "I'll take your picture by the pool." "Oh, okay," he muttered, following her outside. "Stand on the diving board, Jeff. Then I can get the mountains in the background. This is going to be great. If you smile, that is." "I'll grin from ear to ear," he said, walking onto the board. "How's this?"

"More this way," she said, waving as she looked through the tiny window in the camera. "A little bit farther, so you're centered." "Here?" "Just a tad toward theOh, no!" The water that sprayed in all directions when Jeff toppled into the pool drenched both Robin and the camera. He swam to the edge and pulled himself out, and she began backing up when she saw the murderous expression on his face. He advanced toward her with slowly measured steps, his shoes squishing, water running off his hair and clothes. "Little tactical error there," she said, smiling weakly. "You are a dead person, Robin Kent," he said, his jaw clenched tightly. "Now, don't get excited, Jeff. I mean, um, it could have happened to anyone, andI'm getting out of here!" She took off, running, for the house, and made it all the way into the living room before two large hands grabbed her around the waist and halted her flight. She dissolved in a fit of laughter and went limp, causing Jeff to lose his balance, and they both toppled into a soggy heap on the carpet. He flipped her over and pinned her down with his long body as the camera rolled under the coffee table. "This is not funny!" he bellowed. "I know! I'm sorry!" she said, unable to curb her merriment. "There will be no more pictures, understand?" "Yes, oh, yes," she gasped. "Bad hobby. Terrible. Oh, Lord, it was hysterical!" "I'm warning you, Robin!"

"There! I'm serious. See my face?" she said, a bubbly giggle escaping from her lips. "I guess there's only one way to shut you up." "Uh-oh." He lowered his head and took possession of her mouth in a fierce kiss that made her forget their cold, clammy clothes and the hard floor beneath her. She circled his neck with her arms and returned the kiss in total abandonment, thrilling at the feel of the evidence of his arousal pressing against her. "Well," he said, after drawing a ragged breath, "part of me is freezing, but another part is definitely warming up." "Oh?" "Let's take a shower." "Good idea. Oh, Jeff, the camera!" "I think I just bought a very wet piece of expensive, useless equipment." "Come on. You'll feel better when you're in dry clothes," she said, ever so sweetly. "No, I won't. I definitely will not!" It was amazing, Robin decided much later, what a nice, warm shower could do for a crabby man's disposition. Of course, the fact that she had lovingly and languorously soaped Jeff's body hadn't hurt any. Nor had the careful attention she had given him with the fluffy towel. She had suddenly found herself airborne and deposited in the middle of the big bed. A now very happy Jeffrey Webster had come to her in a surge of desire that took her breath away. Making love, he had said, was his kind of hobby.

Dressed in one of Jeff's shirts while her clothes dried, she trailed behind him into the kitchen. They each made their own lunch and sat down at the table. "Well, so much for photography," she said, sighing. "You'd better believe it." "Now what are we going to do?" "Oh, I'm sure you'll come up with something," he said, shaking his head and frowning. "I'll give it very serious thought," she said, squinting up at the ceiling. "Robin, we do not need a hobby!" "Yes, we do!" "Okay, well take up the snowmobile." "This is Tucson, Arizona, remember?" "Which means we'll never have the snow to do it! Best kind of hobby there is. All talk, no action. Unless, of course, we're dealing with making love. Now, that's a different ballgame." "Webster, you have a one-track mind." "Yeah, and you love it." "True, but that's not the issue here. I'll let you know when I come up with another idea.""Spare me." "You're not cooperating!" "Okay, I'll tell you what. Tomorrow I'll take you out and teach you how to golf. Then we'll be able to play together."

"Really? Oh, Jeff, that's wonderful!" "I know. I'm a terrific guy." "You are! Golf. It's perfect!"

The doctor who treated Jeff at the emergency room at Tucson Medical Center the next afternoon said his shin bone was not broken, only badly bruised. "Weren't you paying attention?" the doctor asked. "When your golf partner is swinging the" "Doc, the club was a guided missile! It flew out of her hands, and I never had a chance." "I recommend that you urge her to take up knitting. The woman is dangerous." "Tell me about it," Jeff muttered, hobbling out of the room. "No more golf, huh?" Robin said as they drove home. "Forget I asked." "Good idea. I do not wish to discuss it!" Jeff was walking with a noticeable limp when he entered the office Monday morning, and the expression on his face told Lois in no uncertain terms not to make any reference to the infirmity. She managed to suppress her amused smile until he was safely in his office. Robin grimaced when she saw him walk slowly and painfully across the courtyard at ten. She hurried to his side, looking up at him anxiously. "Oh, dear, it's still sore, isn't it?" she said. "Jeff, I am so sorry I hit you with that club. I thought I had a firm grip on"

"Could we talk about something else?" he asked, sinking onto the bench. "Yes, of course. I want to fully explain my schedule for this week, so we don't have any misunderstandings. Rather than drag it out forever, I jammed all the appointments in at once, to get it over with." "Oh." "Good idea, right? Wrong. You're mad again." "No, . I'm not. I'm going to be very calm and patient about this. When will you be free?" "Yes! Well!" "Robin?" "Friday?" "You're busy every night until then?" he asked, his voice rising. "I thought it would be better this way." "What am I supposed to do in the meantime?" "What did you do before you met me? Oh, heavens, don't answer that. I bet they were gorgeous." He looked at her in surprise, then whooped with laughter. "Okay, my Robin," he said, pulling her close. "I'll survive. It's back to the swimming pool, broken leg and all." "I didn't break your leg!" "You sure tried. Say, did I mention that I love you today?" "Do you love me today?"

"And yesterday and tomorrow." "How lovely." "Oh, one other thing. If any of those jerks you're making your famous night visits to even flickers an eyebrow at you, they're dead meat. Got it?" "Got it." "Okay, Ms. Executive, go knock 'em dead." "I love you, Jeffrey Webster." *** By Thursday night Robin was numb with fatigue, and after a semicoherent telephone conversation with Jeff she fell into bed. The week had been a frantic series of closely scheduled appointments and ten-minute snatches with Jeff on the bench in the morning. She had no idea how he was handling the situation, since there was never time to find out. He had insisted she phone him every night when she returned from visiting the store managers, to assure him she was safely home. The conversations were brief, since Robin was tired, and Jeff would simply tell her he loved her and instruct her to get a good night's rest. He had been fairly quiet during their soda breaks, but pleasant enough. She could only hope he had taken the whole thing in stride, as he'd said he would. He was probably relieved she had been too busy to dream up a new hobby for them!

When Jeff hung up after talking to a foggy Robin on Thursday night, he quickly called his sister. "Hello." "Carol? Jeff. Are you busy?" "Nope. Ryan's out of town, and I'm bored out of my mind."

"I'm coming over." "Now?" "Now." "Well, sure, fine." "Pour me a stiff drink and have it ready for me." "Trouble?" "Like you wouldn't believe, Carol." Carol shoved the hefty serving of liquor into Jeff's hand as he sank onto her sofa. "Lord, Jeff," she said, looking at him anxiously. "You look like you haven't slept in days. What's wrong, honey?" "I'm in love, Carol," he said quietly, staring into his drink. "I see," she said, sitting down next to him. "That sounds like wonderful news, but you're obviously upset. Doesn't she feel the same about you?" "Oh, yes, she loves me." "Is she married?" "No! I don't mess with other men's wives!" "Sorry. I'm just trying to find out what's wrong. What is the problem, Jeff?" "The whole damn thing," he said, getting to his feet and pacing the floor. "Carol, I don't think I was meant to be in love. I'm too . . . intense about it, nearly fanatical." "What do you mean?"

"Robinher name is Robinis an intelligent business person. She's also a warm, caring, thoughtful, loving woman. She's everything a man could want. I want to protect her, take care of her the way our father took care of our mother. I need to know where Robin is, what she's doing when she's not with me. Last week she was sick with a cold, and I took care of her. Me! I felt like a million bucks because I was the one who watched over her." "Jeff, this is a different era from Mom and Dad. Women are more self-sufficient and" "Yeah! Who's idea was this liberation crap, anyway?" "You're not being reasonable. Can't you and Robin reach a compromise on this?" "No! Maybe! I don't know. Hell, I haven't seen her one night this week because she's been with men." "What?" "Business contacts for her temporary-placement service." "Oh, you had me worried there for a minute. What is it you really want, Jeff? I've seen some of the dingdongs you've dated. You're bored in ten minutes. You need a woman with brains." "I know that." "But you want her at your feet with your pipe and slippers when you come home?" "I didn't say that. I know Robin loves her work, and I'm very proud of her for what she's accomplished. I could have dealt with her sudden work rush, but I haven't even seen her except for a few minutes in the morning. She's been so tired when I've talked to her each night, it's nearly killed me. I've just wanted to rush over to her place and hold her until she fell asleep. I could have let her rest and made her breakfast so she wouldn't have to get up so early. As it was, I just stood by and watched her work herself to death."

"So what you're saying, Jeff, is that you would have been willing to work out these rough few days if you could have felt you were a part of it, shared it with Robin." "Yes, but that's impossible, and the whole thing is driving me right up the wall." "For a smart man, you sure are stupid," Carol said, shaking her head. "Thanks a helluva lot!" "Jeff, wake up! Don't you see? The role you would have played in Robin's life this week isn't feasible for a lover who lives across town. There's only one person who could have been there to welcome her home and make things a little easier for her. Her husband!" "Who?" "Do you admit you would have felt just fine if you'd tucked your tired Robin in and known you were there if she needed you?" "Yes, but" "Ryan does that for me. When he gets home from this trip he's going to be wiped out, and I'll do the same for him. Oh, honey, you're not doing anything wrong! It's just that your love for Robin has grown past the affair stage and you're ready for more. I'd bet you five bucks that big house of yours seems empty when she's not there, right?" "Right, but" "It's wedding time, baby brother, and I'm so happy for you." "Marriage? Me? I mean, I love Robin more than I can even say, but marriage?" "Why not?"

"Well, I" "Would Robin consent to just living together?" "Lord, no." "Okay, then you can sit in your home on the hill and worry about her." "That's what has me over here drinking up your expensive Scotch!" "I rest my case." "And I'm leaving!" "Think about what I said, Jeff." "Okay, big sister," he said, kissing her on the cheek. "Sony I'm such a pain." "No, you're not. You're a man facing a turning point in his life. Trust yourself, Jeff." "Good night, Carol." "Ta-ta, sweetheart." Jeff refused to think as he drove home, as he swam for an hour, as he tossed and turned in his bed for half the night. He just blanked his mind except for one image that he couldn't erasethe pretty, smiling face of Robin Kent.

Robin poured herself a cup of coffee and took it back to bed, sipping it while propped up against the pillows. Friday morning, she thought. At last the grueling week was over. She had told Denise she'd be late arriving at the office, and planned to get there just in time to meet Jeff in the courtyard. What a week. But it had been worth it. The temporary Christmas employees were under firm contracts, and she had secured six new clients from her mad-dash appointments.

But never again. She had worked herself to a frazzle. The previous year she had spread out the Christmas stampede over a reasonable length of time, but that was B.J.Before Jeff. She had wanted it out of the way so she could go back to devoting her energies to the man she loved. One very definite fact had come to light during the days she had been separated from her Jeff. They did not need a hobby. To quote her mother, it had been a silly idea. She had been trying to organize her and Jeffs life like a cruise director, and it really had been a dopey thing to do. Somewhere in the blur of activity this past week, she had suddenly known that people in love didn't need that type of thing. Being in the same room together was sharing, even if they were engaged in separate activities. She had recalled the comfortable silences that had fallen while she and Jeff read the paper, the simple pleasure of watching an old movie together on television, the give-and-take stories of what had happened during their business day. They had eaten different meals but had cooked them together, and she had been perfectly content to stretch out on the lounger and watch him swim. Being together, or knowing they would be together soon, was enough. Jeff would no doubt be thrilled to learn that the hazardous hobbies were at an end, Robin thought. She would explain that she had simply perceived things wrong and now knew they had everything in the world going for them. Their noisy chatter and the golden silences were all a splendid part of a relationship that was strong and sure. They had weathered misunderstandings and learned from their mistakes. They could turn their future together into anything they wished it to be. She drained her coffee cup and set it on the nightstand, then snuggled down under the blankets. The future. With Jeff. What did it hold? Where were they headed? It had been wonderful staying at Jeff's while she was recovering from her cold. It had felt right and good to sleep in his bed, walk through his home, fix his dinner in the sparkling kitchen. She had felt like a . . . wife. Goodness, a wife? That was a heavy-duty title. Mrs. Jeffrey Webster? Robin Kent Webster?

"Mr. and Mrs. Jeffrey Webster cordially invite you to attend a dinner at their home," she said aloud, then smiled. Married to Jeff? Spend the rest of their lives together? Oh, it sounded glorious. How did Jeff feel about babies? she wondered. That subject had never come up. But neither had wedding bells. Margie was wrong to say that Jeff only had affairs, because this time it was different. Jeff loved her, and he had never loved before. But what were Jeff's thoughts about the blissful state of matrimony? She couldn't exactly drag him down to the courthouse and stick a ring on his finger in front of a judge. Margie would probably say that all things were equal, so why didn't she propose to the big lug? Heavens, Robin thought. How awful. She would die on the spot. "Hey, Jeff, if you're not too busy today, wanna get married?" Forget it. She had made great steps forward by making love with the man. She'd run the course of her newfound liberation, though. The ball was in Jeff's court now, and that was that. In the meantime it was Friday, the awful week was at an end, and all was well. Maybe she'd push Jeff into the pool with his clothes on so they'd have an excuse to take one of those delicious showers together. Somehow, though, she knew it would take no prompting to convince Jeff they needed to make up for lost time. It was very definitely going to be a splendid night.

Jeff stood as Robin walked across the courtyard, returning her wave and her bright smile. But marriage? he thought. Until-death-do-us-part stuff? Forever and ever? It was a staggering thought. It had just never entered his mind. He'd been so overwhelmed by the fact that he was actually in love for the first time in his life that he had simply not projected that far into the future. Carol said he sounded like a husband already. A husband? Father? Good Lord, a baby! Did Robin like babies? They'd never talked about it. Oh, man, this was all too much! He had to calm down. "Hello, Jeff," Robin said. "Hi," he said, kissing her quickly and sitting down.

She frowned for a second, then joined him on the bench. Nice little peck, she thought, but she'd rather expected a long, passionate number, considering how few and far between they had been all week. Oh, well. "I am finished. Done," she said cheerfully. "I'm footloose and fancy-free, and I appreciate your patience during this gruesome week." "Was it successful?" "Very. Business is booming, and it's time to celebrate. I even slept late this morning, so I'm all rested up." "What would you like to do?" "You decide, Jeff. After all, it was a long week for you too." "You're right about that. Dinner and dancing?" "Marvelous." "Okay." He nodded, then drained his soda can in four swallows and tossed it in the trash barrel. "Is anything wrong?" Robin asked. "You seem awfully quiet." "No. No, I'm fine. I just have a lot on my mind." "About your work?" "I have some complicated things brewing." "Another Perry Mason," she said, smiling. "Yeah, that's me," he replied, frowning. "Do you want to talk about it?" "Not right now."

"All right." "I'd better get back, Robin. I'll pick you up at about seven tonight," he said, getting to his feet. "Fine." " 'Bye, babe." He kissed her lightly and strode away. Robin sank back onto the bench. Her trembling legs refused to hold her. She knew something was wrong. Only two little kisses, and that last one had seemed like an afterthought. Jeff was terribly preoccupied, almost sullen. What had happened? she wondered. Had the week apart had an adverse effect on him? Had he decided the freedom he'd experienced again was more to his liking? He'd said it was his work, but he'd had difficult deals before and had always given her some idea of what he was facing. No, it was something else. Just an hour earlier she had been daydreaming about being his wife, the mother of his children. Was she instead about to become his ex-lover? There had been a tension emanating from him, a tightness she had never felt before. She stood up slowly and stared in the direction Jeff had gone. A wave of misery, of impending doom, swept over her, and she turned and walked back to her office with a dull ache in her heart.

Jeff rested his elbows on his desk and leaned his head in his hands. He had frozen up. He'd looked at Robin in an entirely new light, envisioned her as his partner for life . . . and everything had seemed to stop. He had hardly been able to breathe, to think properly. Hell, he'd nearly forgotten to kiss her good-bye! What was he afraid of? That she'd reject the idea? Or that she'd accept it? He didn't know. Did he want to be a married man, bounce babies on his knees, be responsible for so many lives?

The magnitude of the scenario was hitting him like a ton of bricks, crushing him to a point where he couldn't sort out his feelings objectively. He had missed Robin all week with an indescribable intensity, and his only thought had been to be with her again. And now this! He didn't want to deal with the future yet. Everything was fine just as it was. No, that wasn't true. Carol had shown him that his emotions had grown past the stage of lover, had taken on the depths possessed by a husband. Was that who he really wanted to be? Robin Kent's husband? Where in the hell was he going to find the answer to this one?

CHAPTER NINE Robin gave Denise the afternoon off in appreciation for the marvelous job the young secretary had done running Kent's Temps, while Robin had been so busy. For the rest of the day she tried desperately to push the disturbing scene with Jeff in the courtyard from her mind, but she was unsuccessful. She attempted to think only of the evening ahead, but the vision of Jeff's tightly clenched jaw, his rigid, tense body, kept flashing before her eyes. He was not thinking about his work. It was something that had to do with her, and she knew it. And whatever it was, she had the dread thought that she didn't want to hear it. Once at home, she changed into a simple black wool dresswhich seemed rather fitting, considering the precarious state of thingsand added a gold locket as her only jewelry. She prayed that she had read more into Jeff's behavior than had been there, that she'd let her imagination get the best of her. He'd enter her living room, gather her into his strong embrace, and kiss away all her fears. If only she could forget that that morning Jeff had not said he loved her. That fact had registered at some point during the day and had hovered like a nefarious shadow ever since. She needed him there. Now. With each passing minute she became more anxious, afraid of what he might say or do when he arrived. As seven o'clock approached she became increasingly nervous, and when he hadn't arrived by seven-fifteen, she was pacing the floor and wringing her hands. The shrill summons of the telephone brought her spinning around, and she snatched the receiver with a trembling hand. "Hello?" "Robin, it's Jeff. One of my clients has had an emergency, a death in the family. The estate is very complicated, and I have to fly out to San Francisco immediately." "I see," she said quietly.

"I'm sorry it's such short notice, but it can't be helped. I'll, um, call you first chance I get." "Yes, all right." "I really have to run. Take care, babe." "Good-bye, Jeff." She replaced the receiver, then slowly walked into the bedroom to change her clothes. There was no client's estate in San Francisco. She didn't know how she knew that, but she did. Jeff had lied. Maybe it had been his tone of voice, or that once again he had not said he loved her. One thing was certain. The man she loved had lied to her. So, she thought, this was how affairs ended. Just a fast, lethal blow. Pow, you're dead. No dramatic scenes or lengthy explanations, but a quick exit, stage left. Interesting. Certainly saved a lot of fuss and bother. "Oh, Jeff," she whispered, "Why? Why? I thought we had it all. I love you, Jeff." Frantically fighting back the tears that continually blurred her vision, Robin grabbed her suitcase and began to toss in jeans, sweaters, anything that was within reach. If she stayed in the apartment all weekend she'd cry from dawn to dusk. She'd go to Prescott to see her mother, even though all the TLC in the world couldn't mend a broken heart. She was soon driving along Interstate 10 toward Phoenix, quickly passing through the farm community of Marana and heading north. It would take her four hours to reach her destination. Four hours in which to think of only the man she loved, Jeffrey Webster, Attorney-at-Law.

Jeff threw his suitcase into the trunk of the Corvette and within moments roared the powerful vehicle out of the driveway. He had already mentally

called himself every rotten name he could think of and then invented a few more for good measure. He had lied to Robin! He still couldn't quite believe it. Oh, but he had done it, all right. He'd made up the biggest bunch of bull he had ever heard and dumped it on her. San Francisco, hell! He'd borrowed a cabin on Mount Lemmon from a lawyer buddy. That was where he was really going. But, dammit, he had to think! The more he had pictured the evening ahead with Robin, the more edgy he'd become. He loved her, had missed her terribly, and was scared to death he'd rush in and say something he wasn't even sure he meant. Something like, "Hi, Robin. Your dress is lovely. Will you marry me?" It could have happened! His mind was so screwed up, there was no telling what might have come out of his mouth. So he had lied to her, and it made him sick. She had sounded funny on the phone. Kind of dull and sad, as if she knew he hadn't been telling the truth. No, that was impossible. It was a perfectly reasonable story. She was just disappointed because they weren't going out as planned. Right? Sure. She couldn't have known. Could she? Oh, Lord, if she did suspect, she was probably crying. Crying, for cripe's sake. No, she thought he was on his way to the Coast. Pure and simple.

Robin exited off the interstate on the far side of Phoenix and ate at a fast-food restaurant and filled the gas tank. She eased her way back into the heavy traffic on Black Canyon Highway and began the slow, steady climb that would take her among the tall pines of northern Arizona and to Prescott. She adored the quaint small town of Prescott, with its old buildings and marvelous museums that so faithfully preserved the old West. She had attended open-air concerts in the town square with her mother after Elizabeth had retired there, five years before. She'd had enough of the Tuscon heat, Elizabeth had said, and was taking her old bones to the cool country. But Robin knew she'd be in no mood for any socializing in the pleasant town on this trip. She would be trying to figure out a way to glue her shattered heart back together.

At last Prescott came into view, and she reduced her speed, weaving her way across town to the lush green mobile-home park where her mother lived. Bone-weary, she sighed as though she'd reached heaven itself as she parked in front of her mother's trailer. "Robin! My goodness, what a surprise!" Elizabeth said when she opened her door at Robin's knock. "Come in, darling." "Hi, Mom," Robin said, hugging her tightly. "Is the tea kettle on?" "Will be in two shakes. Sit down, relax, and tell me what's wrong." "Wrong?" "How's Jeff?" "Jeff?" "All right, Robin, well talk when you're ready." "Maybe tomorrow, when I'm not so tired and . . . Oh, Mom," Robin wailed, bursting into tears. "It's awful, terrible, absolutely stinky!" "My, my," Elizabeth said, sitting down by Robin. "All that?" "And more! Jeff lied to me. I know he did. He didn't go to San Francisco, the louse. We were going to celebrate because we'd hardly seen each other all week and then the rat called and canceled with a flimsy excuse, a bald-faced lie. It's over between us, and he didn't even have the decency to tell me. He just slithered away into the night." "Slithered?" "Like the snake he is!" "And you love him," Elizabeth said gently.

"More than I can even tell you. Mom. He became a part of my life, an extension of me." "Are you absolutely sure he lied about this trip he said he was going on?" "Yes, I could tell, Mom. Maybe people get a sixth sense about the person they love. But, yes, Jeff was making up the whole story." "Strange." "Why? Beats telling me to my face to get lost. What a chicken." "But you were so sure he loved you, Robin." "He does! Or did. Oh, I don't know. Maybe the whole thing was a con job. No, he did love me! We shared so much andWell, I... Is the tea ready?" "I'll get it," Elizabeth said, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "It will keep you from spilling the beans. So now what do you plan to do?" "Either shoot Jeff or run him down with my car. I haven't decided which yet." "At least you haven't lost your sense of humor, dear." "I'm falling apart by inches, Mom. I just don't know how I'm going to survive this." "You will, dear, even though it's terribly painful right now. Did Jeff ever say if he had loved someone before you?" "No, he hadn't. It was all brand-new to both of us." "And you told me you found it rather confusing and difficult at times." "Well, yes, I did, because I'd never experienced anything like it. But little by little it all fell into place."

"Did it ever occur to you that Jeff might have been just as overwhelmed by his emotions as you were?" "He said we would make some mistakes because we were fragile." "What a lovely way to put it," Elizabeth said. "I like your Jeff, Robin." "He's not mine anymore!" she cried. "Time will tell, dear. Drink your tea."

In spite of the turmoil in her mind and the ache in her heart, Robin slept soundly that night. The next morning her mother fed her a huge breakfast and then literally dragged her out the door to go shopping. The air was frosty and invigorating, and Robin found herself yawning shortly after dinner. Elizabeth had made no further reference to Jeff, and Robin had not mentioned his name. But he was there in her thoughts, and tears sprang to her eyes when she least expected them. As she drove back to Tucson Sunday afternoon, his lie about San Francisco screamed through her mind. If he needed to leave her, why hadn't he come to her and explained? Why hadn't he left in gentleness instead of with a harsh, brutal lie? He had robbed her of the chance to see him one last time, stolen her opportunity to try to understand why he must go, thereby perhaps lessening the pain. By the time she reached home, the ache to see Jeff, to be held in his embrace, had been replaced by a cold, bitter anger. In short, Robin Kent was now mad as hell! Her telephone was ringing as she entered her apartment, and she snatched the receiver. Her hello was brisk. "Robin? Margie. I've been trying to reach you all weekend." "I was out of town."

"Oh, thank heavens, then it was you. I was so afraid the rat was two-timing you. I've been a wreck. Cancel rat. I'll go back to calling him gorgeous." "Margie, what are you blabbering about?" "Jeff Webster, of course." "What about him?" Robin asked, sinking onto the sofa. "He came by the office Friday afternoon to see Pete, my boss, and get the key to Pete's cabin on 'The Lemon.' Anyway, they were talking and I couldn't catch much, dammit, but I did hear your Jeff say something about concentrating on a very special lady while he was up there." "My God," Robin whispered. "Well, I know you're bonkers for the guy, and I was ready to do murder because I thought he was stringing you, ya know? But since it was you he was with, there's no prob. I'm dying to know everything but I won't ask, because you'd never tell me. Anyway, good-bye, and I love ya. You're doing all right in the big leagues after all, kiddo." " 'Bye, Margie." Another woman? she thought, her blood starting to boil. Jeff had dumped her for another woman? While she had been killing herself with work so she could clear her schedule for him, he had been out renewing old friendships? Friendships, her big toe. Lovers, that was what they were. And then the crumb had lied to her and taken one of those freaky females to Mount Lemmon for the weekend! How could he do such a despicable thing? The man didn't have an honest bone in his body. Had everything been a lie? Was what they had shared been nothing more than Jeff's standard operating procedure for a short-term affair? The man must have minored in acting at Stanford. So why the declaration of love? "To get me into his bed!" she yelled, jumping to her feet. "Did I actually fall for the oldest line in the book? I did!"

She paced back and forth, her mind whirling from the impact of Margie's revelation about Jeff's love-nest weekend on The Lemon. She willed herself not to ciy, tried desperately to swallow the sob that caught in her throat. She had managed to replace the sorrow with anger during the trip back from Prescott, but now this? Visions of Jeff reaching out to another woman flashed before Robin's eyes. She saw his massive torso glistening in the firelight as he smiled that smile, his hair tousled and sun-streaked, the muscles in his back moving under the taut, tanned skin. Then he would "No!" she gasped. "Oh, Jeff, why did you do this to me?" She gave way to the tears then, no longer having the strength to win out over the sobs that wracked her body. She sank onto the sofa and cried until she was exhausted. At last she slept, a huddled form in the dark, lonely room.

Jeff Webster entered his living room close to midnight and dropped his suitcase onto the floor. He needed a shower and a shave, was bone-tired from lack of sleep, and starving. He also felt absolutely wonderful! He had spent the entire weekend trudging through the rough mountain terrain, stopping only for catnaps in the cabin and occasional peanut-butter sandwiches. He hated peanut butter, but it hadn't mattered, since he had paid little attention to the quickly consumed snacks. The pieces of the jumbled puzzle in his mind had slowly taken shape, and he had carefully analyzed each one. He had thought back over the life he had led before the fateful day he had met Robin, the lady in the window, and the changes that had occurred in his existence since then. He now knew that the strange emptiness, the void of which he had been vaguely aware, had disappeared the moment he came face-to-face with Robin Kent, saw her smile, and heard her lilting laughter. He wanted her, but more than that, he needed her, and the difference between the two was enormous. And he loved her with an intensity that was no longer frightening or confusing. It was a rare and beautiful gift, and he would cherish Robin and her love for eternity. He would marry her. He had

gone over it a thousand times, seeing her in his home, his bed, and could not imagine life without her. He had escaped to the mountains like a scared kid and emerged a man who understood his mind and heart. Now he would count the hours until he saw her and could humbly ask her to become his wife. They would be married, and together until death parted them. She would be his, he would be hers, forsaking all others, sharing the good times and the bad, the smiles and the tears. "I love you, Robin Kent," he said to the empty room, "and I will until the day I die." Lord, he suddenly thought, what if she refused to marry him? No, Robin loved him. He knew that. Maybe he'd propose to her on the bench where they had first met. Not an overly romantic setting, but it was sentimental. Tomorrow morning at ten o'clock he'd ask Robin Kent to become his wife. Fantastic!

When Robin awoke at dawn she lay perfectly still to see If she was going to start crying again. Apparently not, for again her first and foremost emotion was anger. Good old rip-roarin', mad-as-a-wet-hen stuff. She had been duped, conned, taken down the river. Jeff was a giant, economy-sized sleaze- ball. She would have liked to punch him in the nose, but since he had no scruples, he'd probably have hit her back and broken her face! Sometime during the night she had stumbled into the bedroom, changed into her nightie, and crawled into bed, though she had only the vaguest recollection of having done so. She showered, dressed in a gray corduroy pants suit, consumed four cups of coffee, then drove to the office. As she sank onto her chair behind her desk it suddenly occurred to her that she should have some sort of plan. She had assumed she would never hear from Jeff again, now that he had made his famous exit. But what if he thought he could see her and keep the other women stashed on the side? He wouldn't dare. Would he? Hey, anyone who invented a trip to San Francisco so he could have a slumber party on Mount Lemmon was capable of any underhanded action.

"Line one. Miss Kent," Denise said. "Thank you," She picked up the phone. "Robin Kent," she said cheerfully. "Hi, babe." "Hello, Jeff." Oh, Lord, it was him! That was his voice, and it sounded deep and rich andNo! He was not going to get to her. "How was San Francisco?" "What? Oh, fine." He'd explain the whole thing when he saw her, he told himself. It was too complicated, too personal, to discuss on the phone. "Was it chilly over there?" "A little. Robin, I just wanted to make sure you'd be on the bench at ten." "I wouldn't miss it, Jeff." You rotten, sorry son- of-a-gun. "Great. I love you, babe. 'Bye." "Good-bye." Now he loved her. The man was incredible. At ten o'clock Robin's legs were trembling as she walked slowly across the courtyard. Jeff was standing by the bench, looking tall and handsome in his dark slacks and pale blue shirt. Her heart did a flip- flop, and she swallowed heavily. Was it possible to love and hate someone at the same time? What if he kissed her? She would just have to keep telling herself he was a two-timing bum. "Oh, Robin, it's so good to see you," Jeff said, pulling her close and claiming her mouth in a searing kiss before she had an opportunity to protest. Damn, she thought. Her body was not her best friend. She just went limp like a rag doll and allowed herself to be molded to the rugged length of Jeff's body. But, oh my, it was heaven. He felt and tasted so wonderful andStop it!

"Well!" she said, wiggling out of his arms and plopping down on the bench. "So San Francisco was super, huh?" "Yeah, sure. Robin, I need to talk to you." "I just bet you do!" she said, jumping to her feet. "Damn you, Jeff Webster, you were never in San Francisco!" "What?" "You were in a cabin on The Lemon. It belongs to a lawyer named Pete." "How did you" "Pete's secretary is my best friend." "Oh, God," Jeff whispered. "The jig is up, hot shot. I despise you, Jeff. You lied about the weekend, and probably about everything else too." "Robin, no! You don't understand." "Oh, but I do. Dopey, unsophisticated me got taken in by your smooth charm. Good-bye, Jeff. It has not been a pleasure knowing you." She turned and hurried away. "Wait!" Jeff yelled, running after her and grabbing her arm. "You have to listen to me. You've got it all wrong." "Take your hand off me. I never, ever want to see you again." "Robin, please! Okay, I admit I wasn't on the Coast, but" "I don't want to hear about her!" "Her who?"

"The woman you took to the cabin." "I didn't" "No more lies, Jeff. In fact, there's no more anything." "Robin, don't do this to us." "Me! I am not the guilty party here. I'm walking away now, Jeff, and if you touch me, I swear I'll call the police." "Oh, Lord, Robin, I" "Good-bye!" Jeff just stood there. It was a nightmare, he thought. It had to be. He'd wake up, go to work, and propose to Robin at ten o'clock. Oh, man, it was real! She knew about Pete, the cabin, and What woman? What difference did it make? He'd been caught in the lie and looked guilty as sin. He was in deep trouble here. How was he going to convince Robin to listen to him, so he could explain everything that had happened? She was so angry. And she was hurt, too. He had seen it in her eyes, and he couldn't blame her. Well, he'd retreat, regroup, and plan a new attack. That woman was going to marry him!

"Denise," Robin said when she returned to the office, "please screen my calls. I am not in to a Mr. Jeffrey Webster." "Okay," Denise said, shrugging. "I'll tell him you died." "I did," Robin said miserably. An hour later Denise was standing in front of Robin's desk. She did not look happy. "Miss Kent, your Jeff Webster person is driving me crazy," she said.

"He calls every five minutes. He sure has a sexy voice. Anyway, what am I going to do?" "Tell him I went to San Francisco." "All ri-ight," Denise said, rolling her eyes and shuffling back to the outer office. The card attached to the flowers that were delivered at two read: "Robin, please let me explain. I love you. Jeff." "He's calling again!" Denise yelled at three o'clock. "No!" Robin said. "And take this bouquet home with you, Denise. I don't want it!" At four, Jeff sank into the chair opposite Lois's desk, crossed his arms over his chest, and scowled at the ceiling. "Should I ask?" Lois said. "Yes." "What's wrong?" "I've been unjustly accused of a crime I did not commit. Well, I sort of did it, but not like it seems. I sure as hell didn't have a woman up there. But how can I redeem myself if she won't speak to me?" "Did I understand any of that? Who isn't speaking to you?" "Robin." "Oh, no! What have you done to that pretty little thing?" "Nothing, Lois! It's a terrible misunderstanding, but I can't get near her to straighten it out. I've called every other second, sent her flowers . . . I'm telling you, that is one furious woman over there."

"Then, you'd better give her some breathing space to calm down." "No! I need to talk to her now! Maybe I'll camp on her doorstep." "Bad plan, Mr. Webster. Have a little patience. What awful thing did you do?" "I kind of lied to her." "Come, now, you either did or you didn't." "Well, I did, but'" "Shame on you!" "But I can explain!" he roared. "Tell it to the judge." "I'm trying to tell it to Robin, but she won't listen to me!" "I'd say you have a definite problem." Lois shook her head. "What am I going to do?" "Wait awhile." "No, dammit, I won't!" Jeff said, pushing himself to his feet and stomping into his office. "Now, this is going to be interesting," Lois said, laughing. "Goodness, I hope it has a happy ending."

Robin's evening was lonely and her night a series of hours spent tossing and turning. She wore a bright red wool dress to work the next morning in the hope that the vibrant color would improve her mood. It didn't.

At a quarter to ten, Denise came running into her office. "I've got to go check on something," she said. "I'll be right back." "Where are you going?" "Trust me!" Denise said, dashing from the room. Ten minutes later she returned, totally out of breath. "I thought so. Everyone in this wing got them," she said, gasping. "Got what?" "These." She handed Robin a piece of paper. Robin's eyes widened as she read the message. It said, "Please look out your window facing the courtyard at ten o'clock. I need all the help I can get.Jeff Webster, Attorney-at-Law." "What is he doing?" she shrieked, jumping to her feet. "We'll know in five minutes." Denise giggled. "I'm getting my spot now so I won't missYikes! Will you look at that?" Robin joined Denise at the window and grabbed the girl's arm for support. It was the most incredible sight she had ever seen! "Isn't that sweet?" Denise said dreamily. "Balloons," Robin whispered. "Hundreds of balloons all over that tree." "Every color in the rainbow. Man, it must have taken him all night to blow those things up." "He has plenty of hot air," Robin muttered. "Oh, here comes a guy. Is that Jeff Webster?" "I'm afraid so."

"Wow! Even from here he looks gorgeous." Jeff walked to the tree and placed what appeared to be a stack of large pieces of cardboard on the bench. Robin's hands flew to her cheeks as Jeff lifted one of the sheets and held it up high for all to see. It read, "I love you, Robin Kent!" "Oh, Lord." Robin moaned. "He's wonderful." Denise sighed. Sign two said, "I went to Pete's cabin alone to think, and I know ..." Number three said, ". . . that I'll love you forever!" "Oh, Jeff," Robin said, brushing a tear off her cheek. "I love you too." "You do?" Denise said. "Hey, this is awesome. Uh-oh, here comes another message." And number four was, "Will you marry me, Robin? Please?" Robin turned and ran from the office, her heart racing and a smile on her face. Miraculously, the elevator was on her floor, and she tapped her foot impatiently during the descent. Once outside, she virtually flew across the courtyard, flinging herself into Jeff's arms and finding herself held off the ground and tightly against his chest. "Oh, my Robin," he said, "I'm so sorry. I was terribly confused. Will you marry me? Will you, Robin?" "Yes! Oh, yes! I thought you had lied because you wanted to be with another woman. Oh, Jeff, I love you so much." He set her on her feet and cupped her face in his hands. As he lowered his head and kissed her, windows were thrown open along the entire wing of the building and a resounding cheer went up from the spectators. Jeff chuckled

and turned, sharply saluting the throng of witnesses. In the breezeway of the other section of offices, Lois sniffled into her handkerchief before hurrying back to her desk. "We'll have a wonderful life together, Robin," Jeff said solemnly. "I promise you that. We can still choose a hobby if you want to." "No, I've learned my lesson about that nonsense. We have enough to share, Jeff. We have each other." "And a baby? We've never discussed it, but" "A houseful of babies!" "Let's take the rest of the day off." "Oh?" "Hey, I'm tired. Do you know how much energy it took to blow up all those balloons? Then I had to climb the tree and" "You poor dear. Maybe I should take you home and tuck you into bed." "Good thinking. I love you. Future Mrs. Webster, my lady in the window." "And I love you, Jeffrey Webster, Attorney-at- Law. Forever."