There was no sense getting riled up about it. Marc filled his glass to the brim, took another gulp, and then headed for the game room. It was only natural to be jumpy after everything that had happened in the past few days. He needed some distraction or he’d go crazy, stuck up here in the condo with nothing but his anxiety for company.

Marc took off his shirt and flexed. Women still came on to him all the time and it wasn’t because of his money. His newest lady couldn’t seem to get enough of him. Myra wasn’t much in the brains department, but he didn’t go out with a woman to talk to her.

She was one crazy lady with an incredible body. He’d learned to spot silicone from a mile away and Myra was all natural. She was also a serious cokehead, but that didn’t bother him. Then there was Myra’s daughter. When he’d gone to pick Myra up last week, the little nymphet had waltzed out of her bedroom stark naked. At sixteen, she’d already developed a figure to rival her mother’s, and all that rosy young skin had nearly driven him crazy. Naturally, she’d acted all surprised, but Marc knew she’d heard him come in. If he’d guessed that damned avalanche was going to hit, he would have invited them both up here for lunch.

Ellen could still feel the imprint of his lips on hers when she pulled away. They were standing in the middle of the living room, still in their parkas and boots. “Look, Walker. I like you a lot, but this is impossible.”

“A kiss is impossible?” Walker raised his eyebrows as he shrugged out of his parka. “Could’ve fooled me. I thought we just did it. Take off your coat, Ellen, you’re going to get overheated.”

“I just mean that we shouldn’t get involved. It really won’t work.” Ellen unzipped her jacket and threw it on the couch.

“Because I’m black and you’re white?”

“That has nothing to do with it and you know it!” Ellen sat down to pull off her boots.

“Didn’t think so.” Walker flashed her a smile. “Then you’re not attracted to me?”

Ellen took a deep breath and threw her boots in the corner. “I just don’t want to get involved with any man.”

“But, Ellen, I’m not just any man.”

The color rose in Ellen’s face. She was beginning to get exasperated. “You’re being deliberately obtuse! What do I have to do, spell it out for you?”

Walker placed his boots next to Ellen’s, taking time to straighten both pairs, then came to sit next to her on the couch. “Spell it out for me, Ellen, the whole thing. I want to know exactly why you won’t let me love you.”

“Oh.” Ellen’s voice was very small. She hadn’t expected this. “All right, then. I had a bad experience. With a man.”

“But it wasn’t with me, was it, Ellen?”

“Look, Walker, it doesn’t really matter what happened. The point is, I’m bright enough to realize my limitations and stay away from the obvious pitfalls.”

Walker pulled her into his arms and kissed her again. Ellen felt herself falling again, swimming in a pool of pure sensation. She knew she couldn’t take much more of this. It was far too dangerous.

“You’re crazy, Ellen.” Walker released her at last. “And you’re so damned defensive you make me want to cry. But I’m crazy about you anyway.”

He was giving her that smile again, the smile she had to return. And then he was pushing her down on the couch. And kissing her again and again, the way she’d dreamed someone would kiss her. And this time their clothes did fall away like rain, perhaps because her head was whirling so hard she could barely think. And then he was carrying her into the bedroom, carrying her, Ellen Wingate, with her too-tall awkward body that seemed amazingly petite in his arms. And the light was on in the bedroom, and she wished he’d turn it off, but he seemed to want to look at her and touch her, running his hands over her skin with a feathery sweeping motion that made her breath catch in her throat. And then she was on top of her quilt, her face pressed against the smooth muscles of his chest and oh God! She knew she’d die if he didn’t kiss her again!

And he did, his lips painting a pattern of crimson pleasure that blossomed and rippled and ran through her in such a rushing torrent of desire that she wrapped her arms around his neck and cried out for him to love her. There was no hesitation, no painful shyness, no shame as she lifted her hips to meet him. And then she was whirling away in a glorious rainbow of pleasure that made her gasp. And sob. And laugh with delight at the incredible beauty of it all as he carried her with him to ecstasy.

EIGHTEEN

There was a little foil packet on her tray and Betty picked it up to examine it. Letters were on the top. S . . . T . . . R . . . and the rest were so smudged she couldn’t read them. She pulled off the top and stared at the contents. Red berries inside, to spread on the whole wheat toast Nurse had brought her for an afternoon snack. Now she missed Jack more than ever. He’d always brought her cookies with strawberry ice cream.

Strawberries! Betty held the packet to her nose and sniffed. There were strawberries inside the packet, but they didn’t smell as wonderful as the strawberries in Aunt Sophia’s garden. She remembered helping to pick them while Aunt Sophia held the basket. One for Betty, and one for the basket, over and over until she couldn’t eat any more. And then, in the middle of that warm, sticky summer, Aunt Sophia had given her a beautiful white ruffled dress and said to get ready, she was a birthday girl and they were having a party. The whole family was coming, even cousins from across the sea, and there would be music and games and clowns and balloons, everything to make the birthday girl happy, even her very favorite strawberry ice cream.

Car after car had pulled into the compound, people laughing and everyone hugging and kissing her. The big table in the dining room had been heaped with presents wrapped in gold and silver and pink and blue, all gifts for the birthday girl. She’d met all her cousins and tried not to get dirty as they’d played hide-and-seek in the yard. And then she’d sat in a folding chair next to Aunt Sophia and Daddy and her brother, Mario, to watch the clowns do their tricks.

One clown had a funny bicycle with only one wheel, and he’d ridden it around and around, swerving and swooping down the garden paths as all her cousins had laughed. Another clown had brought a little white dog who could prance on his back legs and jump through hoops. The clowns had been very funny in their polka-dot suits with too-big shoes and bright red hair. They had chased each other and turned cartwheels on the grass until there was a loud bang and Daddy had pushed her down so hard she’d cried.

Then the birthday party wasn’t fun anymore because Mario had a strawberry stain on his shirt and everyone was screaming. Aunt Sophia had taken her into the house when they came with the loud sirens and flashing red lights, and she’d heard them say that Daddy had been damn lucky he’d moved just then. But Mario was gone and he’d never come back, and opening her presents hadn’t been as much fun.

There were drops of wet on her dressing gown and Betty frowned. It was silk and the wet would leave a stain. Dishes rattled in the kitchen and Betty reached for a tissue to wipe her eyes. Soon Nurse would pick up her tray and she’d go for the needle if she suspected that Betty had been crying.

Betty sat up a little straighter and concentrated on the game show. A man in a yellow and green flowered shirt was trying to answer a question worth twenty thousand dollars. The host read the question out loud. What term do scientists use to describe the large boulders left by glaciers during the Ice Age?

The name popped into Betty’s mind like magic. The boulders were called erratics. She’d learned that a long time ago when they’d studied glaciers and she’d helped Charles make a mountain out of flour and salt and water. But the man in the yellow and green shirt didn’t know and he’d lost the game.