“She’s crazy about me,” Fox said, deadpan, and Cindy suppressed a smile.

“You can hardly blame her,” Cindy said.

“You’re right about that. Since your arrival, our relationship, which wasn’t the best to begin with, has gone straight down the tubes.”

Cindy looked at him levelly. “Perhaps you’ll be good enough to tell me what all this is about?”

“You know what it’s about,” he answered tightly. “I saw you in the Golden Door tonight.”

‘‘Oh. I was hoping that you missed me.”

He nodded sourly. “I can understand why. You didn’t waste much time, did you?”

“I could say the same about you.”

“Who was that guy?” he demanded. “How do you know him?”

“You have no right to ask me these questions,” Cindy answered, turning away.

“I have every right,” he almost shouted, his eyes blazing.

She faced him again, her anger rising to meet his. “And just how do you figure that?” She shook her head incredulously. “You gave me the gate not one week ago, and now here you are grilling me like a suspicious husband. You wanted to stop seeing me; that whole scenario was your idea. Where do you get off pulling this interrogation number?”

“I did not give you the gate,” he enunciated clearly, his fists clenching and unclenching reflexively.

“Oh? What would you call it?”

“I did what I thought was best for both of us.”

“Fine. You should be happy. Then why are you here?”

“You know why I’m here. I didn’t like the looks of that guy.”

Cindy couldn’t help laughing. Richard might be mistaken for an earnest intern or a fledgling minister, but never a cloak-and-dagger type. Fox was really reaching.

“Don’t be absurd. That guy, as you call him, is my thesis advisor. He’s already on his way home to Pennsylvania.”

Fox looked mollified. “Oh. Then it wasn’t a date?”

“I had dinner with a friend. Can we leave it at that? Now unless you have something further to say, I suggest you get out of here before Paula’s remaining patience runs out.”

He remained motionless, staring at her stubbornly.

“Did you hear me?” Cindy asked.

He exhaled sharply and dropped his eyes. She waited as he shifted restlessly, obviously trying to say something that was difficult for him.

He looked up again, and she felt the impact of his eyes with an almost physical jolt.

“Look, can we start over again? I’ve been missing you, and I think I made a mistake last week, saying what I did. Maybe we should give it another try.”

Cindy’s pulses leaped, but she maintained the outward appearance of calm.

“I don’t know if that would be such a good idea, Drew,” she replied carefully.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t think you’ve really changed your mind about us. You just saw me tonight and you’re reacting emotionally. The basic problem remains.”

“Aren’t we the sensible little miss?” he said acidly. “As logical as a computer. And just as cold.”

“Logic is better than runaway romanticism.”

“Oh, come on, get off it. You’re just trying to punish me for last week. I hurt you and you want to hurt me back.”

“I don’t operate that way, Drew,” she answered quietly. “But I can’t help it if you think I do.”

“So your answer is no?”

She wanted to agree, but found that she couldn’t. She needed to be with him so badly that it overrode caution and reason.

“What did you have in mind?” she hedged.

Encouraged, he said eagerly, “I play on a semi-pro jai alai team in Ocala. We have a game Friday night. You could watch me play and then we could go out afterward. Does that sound okay?”

She couldn’t resist his childlike enthusiasm. He had missed her. He must have, to be so thrilled at her hint of acceptance.

“Okay,” she said, and he grinned.

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he said, heading for the door.

“Drew?” she called, as he reached for the knob.

He looked at her over his shoulder.

“What’s jai alai?”

He laughed.

“You’ll see,” he answered, and left.

* * * *

Watching jai alai proved to be an enlightening experience. A game invented by the Basques of Spain, it resembled handball, except that the players didn’t hit the ball with their hands. They caught it in a mitt called a cesta and then threw it back. Fox’s game was being played in an arena called a fronton and was the subject of mass betting among the spectators. Fox got Cindy a front row seat, and she didn’t care that she couldn’t understand a thing going on in the court. Her eyes glued to Fox, she watched his lightning moves throughout the game, leaping to her feet and screaming with the other fans every time it was clear that he had scored. His team won, and afterward they went out with a group of players and their dates, or wives, until Fox took her aside during a lull in the music.

“Let’s blow this joint,” he said. “The dining room set we ordered arrived. Do you want to go over to my place and see it?”

This was clearly a pretext to get her alone, but Cindy wanted that as much as he did. She nodded, and he made their excuses to the group.

They went to his apartment and looked at the new furniture. They looked at the view. They looked at the newly installed carpeting in the hall. They avoided looking at each other. Finally Fox came and stood next to Cindy at the window. He touched her arm and she jumped.

“Yeah,” he said huskily. “I know exactly how you feel.”

Cindy turned to look at him. His hair was still slightly damp from his post game shower, and it clung together at the ends in shiny tufts. He wore a green pullover that heightened the color of his eyes, and his tan deepened the dusky shade of his skin to sepia. He was beautiful, exotic, infinitely desirable to the woman who saw in him the culmination of centuries of struggle and endurance. Maybe he wasn’t perfect, maybe he wasn’t even right for her, as Paula said, but she loved him and that was all she knew.

Fox reached out and gently tucked her into his arms. “I can’t fight this anymore,” he murmured. “I want us to make love, Cindy. Do you still feel the same?”

Cindy’s throat tightened with unshed tears, and the right words would not come. He misinterpreted her silence and released her, his face shadowed with a disappointment so deep he was unable to conceal it.

“No, huh?” he said, making an attempt to dismiss it lightly. “I guess I blew it. You should have told me that it was a one-time-only offer.” He couldn’t quite pull it off, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’m sorry,” he added quietly. “I’ll take you home.”

Cindy stepped forward and slipped her arms around his lean waist. With a sigh of complete surrender, she put her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

He understood and enfolded her once again. “Oh, princess,” he said, in a voice that was not quite steady, “all those years in school and you still don’t know what to say at a moment like this.”

“I’ve never had a moment like this, Drew,” she whispered. “I want to share it with you. Only with you.”

“And you will,” he said fiercely, his grip tightening. “After I brought you home the last time you were here, I thought, if I’m not the first some other man will be. The idea drove me crazy. And then when I saw you with that guy in the restaurant…”

Cindy raised her head to look at him. “You have no rival in Richard, Drew. You have no rival in anyone.” She saw him draw a breath, and then he kissed her so urgently that she had to clutch his arms to keep from rocking back on her heels. He shifted position, clasping her with one arm and slipping the other under her knees. Cindy’s feet left the floor as he picked her up and strode with her into the bedroom.

Fox set her gently on the bed, kneeling before her on the floor. Cindy had picked out the spread, the curtains and the rug, but everything looked new, as if she were seeing it for the first time. When Fox reached up to undo the buttons of her blouse, she shivered. His hand fell away and he moved to sit next to her.