She started to protest again, but then her face softened, and she looked up at him with her heart in her eyes. “Good.”

“Do you think it’s ready now?”

“What’s ready?” Elaine felt a smile spread across her face. It simply would not go away. It was as though she had been born this way and would live the rest of her life this way.

“The coffee.”

“I think it must be. I started it over an hour ago.”

He rolled to one side, offering a tantalizing glimpse of all of him, and grabbed the clock from the bedside table. “Oh, man.”

“What’s the matter?”

“I’m supposed to be at my folks.”

She deflated a little but hid her disappointment by looking away, shaking her hair across her face. Just because everything had changed for her didn’t mean it had for the rest of humanity. One of the painful discoveries she’d made as an adult was that the world did not revolve around her. And, this morning, reality lay in wait, ready to spring like a predator on her happiness.

“You’d better head for the shower,” she said, being practical. “I’ll phone for a taxi.”

“It’s walking distance.”

“For you. I’ve got to get going.”

He turned back to her, pulling her against him. “Going where?”

She hesitated. Her family usually slept late on Christmas, exchanged tasteful gifts, had a champagne brunch and then took off on vacation, to ski or sun themselves somewhere exotic. They liked to travel on Christmas Day, because it was less crowded than just before or just after the holiday. This logical program did not appeal to her in the least and hadn’t for a long time. She simply went along with it because there was nothing else to do.

“To my parents’ apartment, I suppose,” she felt obliged to say.

“Call them and say you can’t make it.”

“Why can’t I make it?” she asked, eyeing Tony.

“You’re coming with me,” he announced. “You’re going to love my family. They’re going to love you.” His face, shadowed by the night’s growth of beard, wore a lopsided smile that took all her willpower to resist.

“No way,” she said, getting up from the bed. One by one, she retrieved articles of clothing, feeling tingles of remembered pleasure as she picked up each discarded piece.

“Remember what I said.” He stood and pulled her against him. “I don’t do one-night stands.”

“I remember.” She shuddered in his arms, now feeling the burden of her decision to change her life. She was different. She was brand-new, she reminded herself.

“So,” said Tony, “that’s what it’ll turn into if you leave now.”