She flung back her head and laughed joyously. "Daniel, there's no one like you. You always speak the exact truth no matter how it may hurt your ego." There was a strange look on his face that caused the laughter to fade from hers. "What's wrong now?"

"I've never heard you laugh before," he said simply. "I like it."

She felt more breathless than when she had been running. "Then I'll try to do it more often. I didn't realize that I was being such a sad sack." She fell to her knees in the poppies. "Maybe you're right, my legs do feel a little weak."

He knelt down beside her and leaned back on his heels. "Mine too." His eyes were narrowed on her face. "You're never gloomy. You're always smiling and serene." He reached out and touched her cheek with a gentle finger. "And beautiful. Always beautiful, old friend."

Another memory. Old friend. This time it sounded like a lover's endearment again.

"Pandora wouldn't consider that a compliment," she said shakily. "She thinks beautiful women are good only for one purpose." Her lashes veiled her eyes as she reached out to pluck one of the poppies that surrounded them. She wished she hadn't said that. It brought too vivid an image to mind. Daniel, strong and naked, making love to her in the big bed in her room with its cool satin sheets. She had never really seen him loving her. There had been only the darkness and the passion. Yet it had been more than enough at the time. She hurriedly tried to blank out the thought. She mustn't ask too much. These past ten days had been beautiful, too, and they had to be enough. Daniel had been as kind and gentle as an older brother to a beloved little sister. A very fragile little sister, however, she thought wistfully. It was almost as if he were afraid to touch her even in the most platonic way. Couldn't he see that she was almost entirely well now? He might no longer desire her, but even casual friends exchanged a casual caress now and then.

They had grown close in so many ways. They had talked, played games, shared meals and experiences. She felt she knew him better than anyone in her entire life. He was part of her life now. How was she going to stand it when he considered her well enough to return to Zalandan and went about his own life? Would he visit her occasionally? Probably. He considered her a good friend, and Daniel was very loyal to his friends.

"You're not smiling anymore. What are you thinking about?"

"Zalandan." One finger smoothed the silky petals of the poppy on her lap. "I called my mother last night. David and Billie are home from New York. She said he was very upset that no one had told him about the hijacking. He wanted to know when I was coming home."

"Then he can keep on wondering," Daniel said harshly. "You're not well enough to travel yet. Dr. Madchen told you that yesterday, didn't he?"

"Yes, he told me that." The decision had brought a surge of pure joy. "But it's only a matter of time until he releases me. I feel so well now. David was surprised he hadn't done it already. He said he was going to call him and discuss the case with him."

"We've done fine without your precious David's interference so far. You can tell him to mind his own damn business." Then, when he saw the shock on her face, his lips twisted. "But you couldn't tell him that, could you? You owe him too much. He s your best friend."

She shook her head. "He's my good friend, she corrected him softly. "Not my best one. Not anymore. You're my best friend, Daniel."

He went still. Something flared in his face and was quickly masked. "How is Bradford going to take that? You've been his special property for a long time."

"David doesn't believe that caring should be some kind of competition. He's a very beautiful human being, Daniel. There are times when he reminds me of a high mountain lake, clean and deep and crystal-clear. I want you to know him."

"I'm not sure I want to," he said tersely. "Unlike Bradford, I'm intensely competitive, and I might find meeting such a paragon a little hard on my ego. You could never compare me to a blasted mountain lake." "It shouldn't bother you." She smiled gently. "You're something of a paragon yourself. It's true you're no clear mountain lake. You're more like the sea. Rough and powerful and yet capable of sustaining life, even giving life. I think you'd get along very well with David."

His expression was stunned. "I'll try," he said gruffly. "I know he means a lot to you. That's part of my problem. I've always been a jealous bastard." He grimaced. "I suppose it goes back to when I was a kid and had to grab what I wanted and hold on tight to keep it from being taken away from me. I guess I'm still grabbing."

"There's no need to grab what I'm willing to give," Zilah said. She reached out a hand to touch his arm. He tensed and she could feel the muscles bunch beneath*her fingertips. She felt an aching pain at that unconscious physical rejection but she tried to keep it from her voice. "I don't believe in half measures, Daniel. If you care for someone, you give everything they want or need."

His harsh laugh held a note of pain. "That's right. You told me you'd sleep with Bradford in a minute if he asked it of you. That it wasn't important. I take it I'm now being sheltered under that same umbrella of generosity with the same carte blanche?"

She froze, her eyes widening. "If that's what you want," she managed to get out.

"Well, it's not what I want." His hands were unconsciously clenched into fists. His blue eyes were blazing in his pale face. "And it is important, dammit. Your body has value just as your mind and spirit do. You shouldn't treat it as something to throw away on anyone who reaches out to take it."

She felt as if he'd struck her. "It's not like that," she said shakily. "I'm not like that. Not with just anyone, Daniel."

"Oh, God, I know that." The words were wrenched out of him. His hands reached out to cup her shoulders. They were trembling. "It just drives me crazy when you say something like that. You're so damn beautiful. Inside and out you're beautiful. Don't you know that? The world out there can be so dark and ugly, and you shine like a candle in that darkness. People like me need to know that there are little flickers of hope out there. So, dammit, shine proudly, Zilah."

She was staring at him with her mouth slightly open. She felt as if she'd received the Nobel Peace Prize. She closed her lips and smiled at him with a radiant warmth that lit her face. "Candles and lakes and seas. We both seem to be full of metaphors this morning." She glanced behind her at the field of poppies bending in the breeze. "It must be the surroundings. Poppies have to be one of the most beautiful flowers on earth." She shook her head in wonder. "And I used to hate them."

"Zilah..."

"It's strange, isn't it? But the fruit of the poppy is opium, you know."

"I know." Daniel's hands tightened on her shoulders. His expression was guarded and intent.

"Heroin. I couldn't stand the thought of that ugliness coming from such beauty. It took me a long time to come to terms with the idea. But I gradually began to be more objective about it." She looked down at the poppy clutched in her hand. "There is never just one side to anything. Opium can bring evil and yet it can stop agony as well. A poppy can beget horror, yet it can lift the heart with its beauty. Now I just try to embrace the beauty and live with the knowledge of the darker side." She moistened her lips nervously and looked up to meet his eyes. "I know I seem to be rambling on, but I'm trying to tell you something. I probably should have told you before, but it still hurts me to talk about it."