He could picture those nights, much as he would rather not. The anger. Her dread. No wonder she experienced arousal like a girl. Of course those first kisses in her library had confused her so much she abruptly ended them. For years she had been told she was so cold she made a man impotent. If the man were not already dead, he would thrash him senseless.

She caressed his face. “It is in the past. It may take me a while to appreciate just how thoroughly it is now. I assumed something about myself, and now I know I was wrong. That is a great gift.”

“No. You have it wrong. Backward. You gave me yourself. You gave your passion. That is the gift. You owe me nothing, least of all gratitude.” He kissed her deeply, then gathered her into his arms and a peaceful silence.

She fell asleep soon. He waited until she dozed soundly before leaving. He looked down at her before going to the door. No wonder she had changed her name.

* * *

She awoke in the earliest hours to find herself alone. His presence still drenched the chamber, however. And her bed. She felt him there as if he still embraced her.

She rose and pulled the drapes so she might watch the dawn. A new day would start soon, in so many ways. She looked out the window, waiting for it.

It was never you. It was him. At first she had regretted that they had allowed Algernon’s specter to shadow their night. However, when Chase said those words, so forcefully, with such certainty—it had crystalized her own thoughts and reactions, and given voice to something she had dared not claim. She had long ago realized that all the rest had been his fault too, but with her utter absence of passion or pleasure—she had no experience, and could not know. Her deadened responses said the blame had indeed been hers. That she was lacking in the most essential part of femininity. Inadequate. Deformed.

It had taken five years to even begin to wonder if maybe she had it wrong. Dreams at first. Then her attraction to Chase made her truly hopeful. Now she knew for certain. Algernon had robbed her of many things, but this had been the worst. This was the one repercussion of that bad marriage that she had not been able to escape on her own.

She had not lied. She would forever be grateful to Chase. But, as she watched the black of night change to the misty silver of dawn, and saw the trees begin to take form, she knew that while he had been the right man for tonight, he was not the right one for anything more. Not even another tonight.