"Shhh ... I didn't mean to do this. I lay there half the night fighting it. But I can't help myself."

"S'all right." Her words were slightly slurred. "I like it."

He chuckled. "I'm glad one of us approves." He bent down and lightly kissed one eyelid and then the other. The tempo of his thrusts escalated. She could hear the heaviness of his breathing above her and feel the tension building in him. She tried to help, but his hands were immediately at her hips, preventing her from moving. "No, I'm trying to hold on to what control I have left. Idon't want to hurt you. I shouldn't be doing this again tonight."

"You should be doing whatever you want to do," she whispered. "I'll always want you, Philip."

He went still. "Will you?" He bent forward to kiss the delicate blue tracery of veins at her temple. "I think the only thing you want right now is to go back to sleep." With a flurry of powerful thrusts, he gained a fiery release from the tension that had tormented him for the past hours. Then he was gone, shifting off, but not away from her this time. He pulled her close, cradling her against his shoulder so that her hair fell on his chest in a silken silver veil. Gradually his breathing grew steady and his heartbeat slowed.

"Did I help?" she asked sleepily.

"I didn't mean to do that to you." His words were stilted, his voice thick with disgust. "Pandora, I'm . . . sorry."

"Did it help?" she asked again.

"Yes. Oh, Lord, yes, it helped."

"Then that's all that's important." She gave his shoulder a drowsy kiss. "I like helping you. Good night, Philip."

He didn't answer for a moment, and when he did his voice was a little husky. "Good night, Pandora."

He wasn't sure she had heard him. She was asleep again.

He found it impossible to follow suit. He should have been pleasantly relaxed, but he found himself charged with a mysterious tension that had nothing to do with desire. Tenderness. Dear heaven, he had never felt such tenderness before.

It was like an immense tidal wave sweeping through him. He didn't want to feel like this. Not about anyone or anything. He wouldn't feel like this. He liked his life the way it was.

Pandora would belong to him, but it would be in the way he chose. What that way would be, he hadn't the wildest idea at the moment. But one thing was certain: Making love to her again any time soon would be a mistake. He wanted her too much. That desire would give her a power he wasn't willing to yield to anyone. He would just have to stay away from her until that fever cooled. It shouldn't take long. No woman had ever managed to hold his interest for more than a few weeks.

However, it wasn't desire that was putting his every nerve on edge. It was the tenderness. That emotion was far more dangerous than sexual arousal. He would have to take great care to guard himself against Pandora and that bewildering gentleness she inspired in him. He wasn't aware that even as the resolve was made, his arm tightened around her in protection.

* * *

He was still holding her in his arms when she opened her eyes the next morning. The gray light of predawn was filtering through the windows, showing her his face, so close to her own. She lay there in blissful contentment for a little while, just letting the wonderful intimacy of the moment seep into her. How many times in the last six years had she daydreamed about Philip holding her like this?

He looked so tired. Dark shadows were painted beneath his eyes, and his cheeks were hollow. At the moment he looked every day of his thirty-eight years. When he was awake he was so filled with energy and strength that she had never been aware he could be as vulnerable as this. She felt a rush of tenderness that flowed into every part of her. She had loved him for so long, yet she had never felt this maternal protectiveness before. She dropped a light kiss on his cheekbone and reluctantly slid out of his embrace.

She tucked the sheet carefully around his shoulders and moved swiftly to the door. She mustn't push too hard. She had given Philip enough to digest.

It was probably her fault that he looked as if he had slept very little the night before. Poor Philip. He wouldn't like the disruption that she was about to make in his life. Well, that was just too bad. It was all for his own good, and it was up to her to prove it to him. But, for now, she'd back off and give him breathing room.

* * *

The sun was beginning to streak across the sky in a burst of pink and lavender as she crossed the stableyard. She paused for a minute to breathe in the fresh scents of earth and grass. She could feel the coolness of the breeze against her cheeks and the joy rising up in her. Dear God, how good it was to be alive on a morning like this!

She was about to turn and go into the stables when she heard a soft neigh. She glanced casually toward the fenced pasture and then froze. Oedipus! The black stallion gleaming in the first light of dawn had to be Oedipus. She was over the high fence in seconds and running along the edge of the pasture. He was so beautiful, with his clean, powerful lines and a wild pride that was evident in every muscle and tendon. She slowed to a walk as she approached him. She mustn't startle him. Oedipus had always been only half tamed, and he was easily spooked.

"Hello, boy! Have you missed me?" Her voice was a soothing murmur as she approached him. "I've missed you. It's been a long time, hasn't it? I've been around a lot of horses since I've been gone, but there's never been one like you." He was looking straight at her, but she couldn't tell if he remembered her or not. With Oedipus, she might never know. He certainty wasn't sloppy about revealing his affections, she thought ruefully. Everything about his nature was difficult and challenging. In that way he reminded her of Philip. Perhaps that was why she had always been so crazy about Oedipus.

"What are you doing out here all by yourself, instead of lazing in your nice warm stall?" She was next to him now and reaching out a careful hand to stroke his nose. It was velvet beneath her palm. He looked at her as if he understood every word she was saying. "But then, you never did like to be inside, did you? Neither do I. It's always better to be out in the open, running with the wind in your hair." She moved slowly to his side, her hand shifting from his muzzle to his mane. "What do you say we do that now, boy?" Then, using the fence as a mounting block, she was on his back, gripping strongly with her knees. As she expected, he put up a fuss, but it was only a token protest. After she had ridden it out he settled down beautifully. "You want it, too. you devil." She laughed softly. "You just wanted to give me a hard time. Now let's go."

She started out at an easy canter, graduated into a gallop, and then they ran flat out, circling the large pasture as if it were a racetrack. She bent low over his mane, talking, urging him on. Oedipus was silk and fire beneath her, and the wind was tearing at her hair with cool, careless fingers. It was glorious!

"Pandora!"

She flinched. Oh dear, Philip. She cast him a glance. He looked just as grim as he sounded. He was dressed in riding clothes, and his hair was slightly rumpled. That was unusual in a man as meticulously groomed as Philip and boded no good. He must have guessed what she was up to as soon as he had awakened and dashed down here to catch her in the act. Drat it, Philip always seemed to know when she was doing something that wouldn't meet with his approval. She slowed Oedipus and headed him toward the fence. "Good morning, Philip. Didn't Oedipus look beautiful? He runs like he's still a two-year-old."