He shrugged. “There aren't many true coincidences in this world.”

She hadn't known until this moment how desperately she'd wanted to be wrong. “Damn you. It was bad enough that you barged in where you had no business. You actually manipulated me. You said you wouldn't do that. You promised me. Why the hell did you break your word?”

“I couldn't think of any other way to do it. You were resisting me tooth and nail. I had to catch you when you were relaxed and your defenses were down.”

“And it didn't occur to you that you'd destroy any trust I had in you?”

“It occurred to me. I decided it was worth the chance. He was the monster who haunted you all your life. You needed to face him instead of hiding.”

“In your judgment.”

“In my judgment.”

“You arrogant son of a bitch.”

“Yes, I certainly am. I never denied that I'm a selfish bastard and that I probably ran the risk for my benefit too.” He added simply, “I couldn't stand you hurting. Every time I touched that part of you, it made me . . . ache. It had to end, Kerry.”

“And just what do you think you gained?”

“If you'd let yourself look beyond the anger, you might find out.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Blue eyes,” he said softly. “He had blue eyes. Why didn't you want to remember that, Kerry?”

“Maybe I didn't remember. Maybe you planted that thought when you were—”

“You don't believe that,” he interrupted. “Cut through the bullshit and tell me why you blocked out of your memory the man who killed your mother.”

“I didn't. I was in a coma, and when I woke I couldn't remember.”

“But you remembered last night. You remembered blue eyes. If I'd probed a little deeper, would you have been able to describe him?”

“No!”

“I think you would.”

“You're wrong.” Her hands clenched into fists. “You're completely wrong.”

“Why did the sight of his face drive you into shock?”

“I was scared.”

“Yes, you were.” He paused. “Who do you know with blue eyes?”

“That's an idiotic question. I know dozens of people with blue eyes.” She whirled on her heel and threw open the door. “I'm not going to listen to you anymore. Just stay away from me.”

“I will,” he said quietly, as he followed her down the steps. “You need to be alone to sort things out. If I can help, I'll be here for you.”

“I've had enough of your help.” She started down the driveway toward the trees bordering the gates. “And I have no intention of trying to sort anything out. I just don't want to be around you.”

“Intentional or not, you're not one who can bury her head in the sand.” He sat down on the steps. “You'll start asking yourself questions in spite of yourself. It's not going to be easy, but you have the courage to face it. When you stop running away, come back and we'll talk.”

“I don't want to talk.” She could feel his gaze on her back as she stalked into the trees. And she wasn't running away, dammit. She was angry and wanted to be alone. It was a natural reaction when someone you trusted betrayed you. And she wasn't burying her head in the sand. Perhaps he had been able to stir memories that the police and psychoanalysts had never been able to bring to the forefront. That didn't mean she'd intentionally hidden them from—

Blue eyes.

She skittered quickly away from the thought. She wouldn't think about it. She wouldn't think of anything Silver had said. He was wrong. There was nothing that—

Running away.

If she was too panic-stricken to think about his words, then there might be truth in what he said.

God, she didn't want there to be truth. She didn't want him to be right.

She could ignore it. She could ignore him.

The hell she could. It wasn't honest, and she always tried to be honest with herself.

Or maybe she hadn't been.

She stopped in the shadow of one of the giant oaks as the thought occurred to her. Maybe the honesty was only on the surface. Maybe she hadn't had the guts to delve deep.

But Silver had said she would have the courage, and he knew her better than anyone.

She leaned her cheek against the rough bark of the tree and closed her eyes.

Blue eyes . . .

The sun was going down when Kerry came back to the house. Silver was still sitting on the top step where she had left him hours before.

She braced herself. She'd hoped to have a little more time before she faced him. “Don't you have anything better to do than hang around here?”

“No.” He smiled. “Well, there were a few earth-shattering matters that might have required my attention, but I figured you were more important. When you turn up the heat, it's only right that you stick around to make sure the subject doesn't boil over.”

“I'm not one of your ‘subjects.'”

His smile faded. “Sorry. That was a stupid thing to say. But I believe you know that I don't regard you that impersonally. What's between us is definitely on a personal level.”

Yes, it was. So personal that sometimes she couldn't bear the intimacy. “And I wasn't about to shatter into pieces because you behaved like an asshole and broke your promise.” She sat down on the step beside him. “Though I'll never forgive you for doing it.”

He looked away from her. “I knew that was a possibility.”

“Of course you did. But you couldn't resist diving in and trying to fix things to suit yourself.”

“It's what I do.” He didn't speak for a moment. “And since you're not spitting fire and brimstone at me, I must have started you thinking.”

“I'm too tired to be angry right now. That may come later.”

“Soul-searching can be an exhausting process.”

“Don't be pretentious. I wasn't searching my soul. My soul is fine and dandy.” She paused. “But just maybe you were right about me hiding from what happened that night.”

His glance shifted back to her. “Hallelujah,” he said softly. “Breakthrough.”

“I said maybe.” She moistened her lips. “I can't think of any other reason why I didn't— If it was right there in my memory, why didn't it come to the surface in all these years?”

“You tell me.”

Her linked hands clenched together. “Blue eyes.”

He didn't speak.

“Dammit, don't just sit there like some kind of all-knowing sphinx.”

“What do you want me to say? Do you want me to ask the question again? Okay, who do you know with blue eyes?”

“I told you that—” She drew a deep breath. “My entire family has blue eyes. I have blue eyes. My aunt Marguerite had blue eyes. My brother, Jason, has blue eyes.”

“And?”

She couldn't speak for a moment. “My father has blue eyes,” she said jerkily. “There. Are you satisfied?”

“Are you?”

“Stop acting like a shrink. Answering a question with a question.” But she had to get it out. So just say it. “My father and mother were getting a divorce. I remember . . . ugliness. The fights were very bitter. They were fighting about everything. Me, Jason, the house we lived in. The brownstone was my father's family home, but my mother wanted it. When my father took Jason away on that trip to Canada, I was almost glad he wasn't there anymore.”

“A natural reaction.”

“I felt guilty about it.” Strange that she could remember that day her father left the house now when she hadn't all these years. The memory of watching Jason and him get in the yellow taxi that had pulled up in front of the brownstone and feeling only relief. “But I was hurt that he was taking Jason and not me. I thought he didn't love me anymore. I knew he didn't love my mother anymore. Why should he love me?”

“A child is different.”

“He took Jason. He never asked me to go. When my father and mother argued, it was always about whether he was going to get Jason. Mother said that Jason and I should stay together, but he wanted his son.”

“I believe I'm beginning to develop a dislike for both your parents. You shouldn't have been witness to any of those battles.”