"I'll survive," he said gently. "Some people are born with something missing, Pandora. It's like being blind or crippled. It's not your fault that he doesn't have the capability of responding to affection."

"I think I know that now." Her words were muffled against his chest. "It took me a long time to work it out. There were always just the two of us, moving from place to place. I guess I was lonely. I couldn't understand why he wouldn't love me." Her voice was suddenly fierce with passion. "I loved him so much. It wouldn't have hurt him to love me just a little. I got so tired of being pushed away."

Philip felt a strange tightening in his chest. How incredibly painful that rejection must have been for the wild, passionate child Pandora had been.

"But I got over it." She laughed shakily. "I suppose you won't believe that after the way I fell apart so badly just now. It was the shock, I guess. He was very polite to me. He said it was silly to pretend an attachment that didn't exist, but that we could talk again." Her hand clenched on his shirtfront. "Perhaps I should ask him over for a spot of tea. He tells me that he doesn't mind my being your mistress as long as I don't come running to him when you tell me to hit the road."

Philip muttered a violent curse beneath his breath and his arms tightened around her. "How broad-minded of him." He pushed her away, then his hands came up to frame her face as he looked down at her. "You really know how to pick the men in your life, don't you? You'd think that after

growing up with an iceman like Madchen, you'd learn to discriminate between the people who are willing to give love and those who aren't."

"I didn't have any choice with you, Philip. It was just"—she made a helpless little motion with one hand—"there."

He closed his eyes. "Oh, dear God. I don't want this. I won't have it. You can't do this to me." He opened his eyes, and they contained the fierce rebellion of a caged hawk. "I'm not going to love you, Pandora. No matter how long you stay, you'll never be more to me than a body to warm my bed. Why don't you go away and save yourself a lot of grief? You're not meant to live like that."

"I can't go away," she whispered. Her eyes were glittering with unshed tears. "I have to try."

"And put us both through hell," he said flatly. "I hurt you tonight. I'll hurt you again. Give up."

"No," she said. She was almost numb with weariness. "There's no use your trying to talk me out of it, Philip. I'd like to go to sleep now, if you don't mind. I'm very tired." She had a sudden thought. "Unless you've changed your mind about wanting to make love to me?"

His lips twisted in a smile that held pain rather than humor. "Such a willing little Khadim." His hand brushed her cheek gently. "Go to sleep. I don't want you tonight." It was a lie. His body was as aroused and ready as it had been the night before. He was finding it impossible to be near her without such a reaction taking place. One finger traced the shadows beneath her eyes. "Maybe I'm getting old."

Her lips curved in a smile that caused his heart to jerk. "Oh no, not you, Philip." She turned her head and her lips were soft as they touched his palm. "Not you."

"Pandora. . ."He stopped. When he spoke again his words were halting. "It's not that you're not worthy of love. In spite of what you've experienced with your father, you mustn't think that. You have more value than any woman I've ever known. You have intelligence and drive and heart. It could be that I'm like your father. Perhaps there's something missing."

"I won't believe that." She nestled her cheek in his palm. "I want to tell you something. When I was a little girl I was always reading myths. I guess it was a natural interest, considering my name. I never liked the one about Pandora, but something about the tale of Persephone fascinated me. She was the daughter of Demeter, the earth mother, and was stolen by Pluto, the god of the underworld. Her mother refused to allow one grain of wheat to grow on earth until she was returned. Man would have perished from starvation if Zeus hadn't persuaded Pluto to let her go. They made a deal: Persephone was to spend three seasons on earth, during which time the earth would bloom and bear fruit. The other season she would return to Pluto in the underworld and the earth would be plunged into winter." Her gaze was pensive, far away. "I always felt a little sorry for Pluto. Perhaps all he wanted was his share of the blooming. I always hoped that Persephone brought it with her when she came to stay with him in the underworld. We all need our own time for blossoming." She kissed his palm again. "When I first met you, you reminded me a little of Pluto, imprisoned forever in a barren world. I've always wanted to bring you spring. I know how empty a winter world can be." Her voice was suddenly wistful. "I can do that, Philip. You're not like my father. Please, let me come in and try."

He was silent for a long moment. "Pandora, I can't." The words were torn from him. "Don't you see that?"

"No, I don't see that," she said with a weary sigh. She closed her eyes. "I think I'll sleep now."

Oh Lord, the stubbornness of her. He felt exasperation mixed with an aching tenderness wash over him. His hands pulled her head to rest on his shoulder. He kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose. "Yes, you go to sleep. Hostilities are definitely ended for tonight."

"I'm not hostile toward you." She didn't open her eyes. "I couldn't be. You're the only one who's fighting, Philip." She cuddled closer, and then stiffened. "I forgot. You don't like to sleep with anyone. It's all right to leave me. I'll be perfectly fine now."

"I'm sure you will." His arms tightened protectively around her. "I just don't happen to want to let you go at the moment." His lips touched her forehead. "Merely a whim, you understand. Pluto and I have been known to have them."

She laughed softly. "Yes, you have." She relaxed against him. "Well, whenever you want to leave, just go."

"I will," he promised. "Go to sleep."

She nestled deeper into his embrace. "Good night, Philip. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night, Pandora."

He would get up soon and undress and put out the lights, but he knew he wouldn't leave her tonight. She was too vulnerable, in too much pain that, he, himself, had inflicted. Strange, after all these years of living for himself, that he would want to soothe another's pain. Strange . . . and threatening.

Yet he knew, even if there was danger in it, that there was no question he was going to do it. But only because he wanted to. It was a whim, just as he had told her. Tomorrow, when they were both on an even keel, would be soon enough to lift his guard again.

Six

Raoul was waiting for him in the stableyard. It was the fourth time in the last two weeks that the servant had felt compelled to meet him as soon as Philip rode in from the irrigation project. There was a worried expression on Raoul's face. Philip felt a sudden tension grip him and forced himself to relax. Pandora. It had to be Pandora, but it was probably nothing more than one of her usual brouhahas.

He swung down from the saddle and threw the reins to the waiting groom. "Well?" he asked tersely. "What now?"