His hand went to her throat, holding there firmly enough for her to feel the strength and the fury behind it. She kept her eyes level, though emotion burned hot and dark in his. “Don’t ever say that. How can you even think it?”

“What do I have to make me think differently?”

His fingers tightened on her throat, making her eyes widen in shock before his mouth came down, hard and furious, on hers. She struggled, wanting words, whatever words he would give her, but his hands were quick and desperate. Ruthless, he took them over her, exploiting every weakness he had discovered in more gentle ways.

Her body was a mass of throbbing, pulsing nerves. Any and all coherent thought had fled, to be replaced by sensation after rioting sensation. Her arms locked tight around him, she accepted what he would give. Her body answered his with the same fire and fury.

The edge of temper met the edge of passion. They scraped, grated, then with a merger that was anything but placid, became one.

* * *

He lay looking up at the ceiling. She was curled beside him, but they no longer touched. The sun was burning off the mist.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

She let out a shaky breath, but her voice was strong and clear when she spoke. “I’m not easily hurt, Alexander.”

“Aren’t you?” He wanted to reach out, to take her hand in his, but wasn’t sure she would accept it. “We need to find a time, a place to talk. It isn’t now.”

“No, it isn’t now.”

When he got out of bed, she stayed where she was. She heard him dress, and waited for the sound of the door opening and closing again. Instead she felt a hand light on her shoulder.

“I feel many things for you, but not shame. Will you wait for me at the theater? I’ll find a way to be there by six.”

She didn’t look at him, knowing that if she did she’d beg him to stay, and perhaps beg for a great deal more than he could give. “Yes, I’ll wait.”

“Sleep awhile longer.”

She said nothing. The door opened and closed.

Eve squeezed her eyes tight, fighting a sense of despair and loss. He’d given her passion, but no answers. Once she’d promised herself his passion would be enough. It was a hard blow to learn now that it couldn’t be. She wanted his heart, without the restrictions he placed on it. She wanted to be loved, cherished, accepted. What she wanted was more than she could have, and she couldn’t live with less.

Understanding this, Eve rose. It was time to begin her life again. There would be no regrets for the dream that had flickered briefly into life.

* * *