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No, sir. He'd had his hands all over her, and she hadn't uttered a single protest. But what stuck in his craw—what really stuck like a big old chunk of hard boiled egg— was the fact that he'd just had some of the best sex of his life, and he'd never felt more unsatisfied. Maybe it was his fault for getting cute. Why hadn't he just grabbed her right there in the house, carried her upstairs, and romanced her in his bed with all the lights on and that big mirror overhead? He could have done his best work there, not that he hadn't been pretty damn good tonight, but if they'd been in his bed, he would have seen everything he wanted to see. In duplicate. He reminded himself this was the third time the two of them had gone at it, but he wasn't any closer to seeing her naked now than he'd been that first night. It was getting to be an obsession. If only he hadn't turned off the dome light, he could have looked his fill, but despite that sassy mouth of hers, he'd known she was skittish, and he'd wanted her so much he hadn't been thinking straight. Now he had to face the consequences. He understood his nature well enough to know that the only reason he found himself thinking about her a few thousand times a day was because he still didn't feel as if he'd really made love to her. How could he when he didn't know what she looked like? Once he found out, it'd be over. Instead of growing stronger every day, this attraction he felt toward her would disappear, and he'd be his old self again, ready to roam the fertile fields of dewy young females with flawless faces and sweet temperaments, although he was giving serious consideration to raising his minimum age requirement to twenty four, since he was getting tired of everybody baiting him. His thoughts strayed back to the Professor. Damn, but she was one funny lady. Sharp as a tack, too. Over the years, he'd developed a certain smugness about the fact that he was smarter than most everybody else, but that razor sharp brain of hers made it hard to sneak much past her. Instead, she marched right alongside him, her brain cells clicking away, matching him step for step and move for move. He could almost feel her peering into 192 every dusty corner of his mind and making a generally accurate assessment of whatever it was she found there. "Reliving those three interceptions you threw against the Chiefs last year?" His head shot up, and he found himself looking into the face of his nightmares. Son of a bitch. Kevin Tucker's lips curled in a cocky grin that reminded Cal the kid didn't have to spend thirty minutes standing under a hot shower every morning just to work the kinks out.

 You are one big scaredy cat." "I am not." "Scared to show me what you've got. Scared you won't measure up to all those thousands of women in my past." "There aren't thousands of women in your past." His grin looked so much like a fox's that she could almost see the chicken feathers stuck to his mouth. Her heart thudded against her ribs. She was frightened, aroused, and amused all at the same time, which made it difficult to frown and sound grouchy. "Oh, all right. I guess I'll make out with you. But keep your hands to yourself." 186 "That's not fair since I'm gonna let you put yours wherever you want." A dozen locations sprang to mind. "I'm sure I won't want to." "I seriously hope that's not true." He switched off the dome light and plunged them into darkness so thick she felt as if the stars had been turned off. Her eyes gradually adjusted enough to make out his shape, if not his features. He cupped her shoulder, and she felt him come close. "Maybe you just need me to remind you where some of the best places are." His lips brushed past her trashy hoop earring and settled on the tender spot beneath. "This one, for example, is a nice warm up spot." She caught her breath and wondered how he knew she was sensitive there. "If you're going to talk through this, could you at least manage to say ain 't a few times so I can fantasize?" His lips tugged on her earlobe, right next to the gold wire, and his elbow bumped against the door. "Who could you fantasize about that's better than me?" "Well . . ." She struggled to speak as her skin turned to goose flesh. "There's this studmuffin physicist who used to be a top quark hunter at Fermilabs . . ." "I doubt he says ain 't." He played at the corner of her mouth. "You're supposed to be showing me what you're made of. So far I'm doing all the work here." She lost what remained of her restraint and tilted her head just far enough for her lips to meet his. The contact jolted her so that she forgot all about playing games, and as their kiss deepened, she abandoned herself to the pleasure of the erotic. She tasted beer and popcorn, along with a hint of toothpaste and something dangerous that reminded her of thunder. "You are the damnedest woman," he whispered. She kissed him again. He pulled her shirttail free, and his big hands, strong and possessive, settled on the skin beneath. His thumbs trailed up the small ridges of her spine 'til they came to her bra, then he whispered against her open mouth. "We have to get rid of this, Rosebud."

She didn't even consider arguing. As she enjoyed the sweet invasion of his tongue, he made short work of the buttons on her blouse, despite the fact that the darkness kept him from seeing exactly what he was doing, then he released the front hook on her bra. His 187 movements were accompanied by bumps and thuds as he banged against one part of the car or another. He bent to take her in his mouth. Her nipples were tender from her pregnancy, and when he began to suckle her, she bucked and dug her fingers into his hair. The exquisite pain of the gentle suction left her wanting both to cry out for him to stop and beg him not to. She knew she had to touch him as he was touching her, and she dragged at his T shirt. The interior of the car had grown hot and steamy, and the soft cotton felt damp beneath her hands. Her shoulder bumped against the window, and she felt the moisture that had congealed on it seep through her blouse. He helped her free his T shirt, then turned his attention to her jeans. He pitched her shoes into the front seat, then tugged at the denim while she explored the contours of his bare chest. She gave an oof of surprise when he whipped off her jeans and her naked bottom came in contact with the cold upholstery. The shock jolted her and suddenly everything seemed to be happening too fast. She needed to think this over, weigh the facts, consider her options. "I didn't . . . I don't . . ." "Hush." His husky whisper filled the steamy interior as he cupped her thigh and pushed it away from its mate. She heard a soft curse. "It's too dark," he muttered. "I still can't see you." She stroked the contours of his pectorals and trailed her thumb over the hard point of his nipple. "Go by feel," she whispered. He did better than that. He went by taste, and she thought she would die from this pleasure she had dreamed of but never experienced. "You don't—" She gasped. "You don't have to do that." His chuckle wasn't altogether steady, and she moaned when his hot whispery breath fell on her. "Mind your own business." Once again he dropped his head, and she felt as if all the parts of her were unraveling. She banged her elbow against the steamy window when she gripped his bare, damp shoulders. He swore and bumped against the seat as he shifted his weight, but none of it mattered. 188 It was too exquisite, too miraculous. She climbed and spiraled, but just as she felt herself beginning to slip over the edge, he drew back. "Oh, no, you don't. Not without me." She lay open and vulnerable before him. His breathing came fast and heavy. "God, this was a stupid idea. We should be doing this in the bedroom where we can see each other, but I can't wait that long. I need you now." She reached for the snap on his jeans and felt the hard, thick shape of him. His breath caught on a hiss as she took her time unzipping, exploring until his restraint broke with a hoarse exclamation.

 "No more, Rosebud. I can't take anymore." "Wimp." She dropped her mouth to his chest and licked a special trail all her own. He gave a sound that was part chuckle and part moan. At the same time, he leaned back and lifted her so she straddled him. She had lost all of her clothing except the blouse that hung open from her shoulders. He had only lost his T shirt. Although she had freed him from his jeans, the space was too confined for her to remove them completely. His chest was bare, however, as bare as her bottom, and she nipped him with her teeth. He uttered a strangled exclamation, but she loved her position of supremacy, and she had no pity. Even though her feet were wedged awkwardly against the back of the front seat, she didn't let that prevent her from kissing him how and where she would. While darkness deprived her of sight, her other senses grew more acute, and she suspected from his touches, tastes, and deep, intimate caresses that it was the same for him. The faintest thread of moonlight caught a glimmering rivulet rolling down the steamy windows, and the sweat from their bodies was slick on her palms. He cupped her bare bottom in his big hands and lifted her. "Now, sweetheart. Now." She moaned as he guided her down upon him, but her body accepted him without question. She gave a sob and pressed her breast to his mouth. He caressed her with lips, teeth, and tongue until she had to draw back and move on him before she went crazy. Even as he grasped her hips, he didn't try to force her into his rhythm but let her find her own. She raised and lowered herself upon him, rubbing the tips of her breasts against the soft hair of his chest and returning his deep, devouring kisses. She felt strong and sure as she met his passion. Sensation built upon sensation until reality slipped away and she felt as if she were being hurled through a supercollider, flying past the speed of light through a narrow underground passage toward the place where everything came apart. 189 And then she cried out as all the molecules that made up who she was fragmented: atoms dissociated, nuclei detached, everything broke open, shattered, and, at the end, left her more complete than she had ever been. He went rigid with her cry. His teeth sank into the side of her neck, not hurting her, but holding her as he spilled himself within her depths. For a fraction of time she felt his utter defenselessness, and she sagged forward, protecting him as he found his ease. Their hearts thundered together, one pressed against the other. She turned her lips to his hair. Finally he stirred beneath her, a shift of his hand, a movement in his leg. nly gradually did she grow aware of the strain in her splayed thighs and the cramp in her calf. The air inside the car was so thick with heat it was hard to draw breath, but she didn't want to move. This intimacy was too precious to her.

"What am I going to do with you?" he muttered against her breast. You could try loving me. The unspoken thought jarred her, then filled her with dismay. Was this the destructive path her subconscious was taking? She wanted him to fall in love with her? When had she lost touch with reality? What made her entertain, even in her fantasies, the notion that this man who wanted no attachments could love her, especially when no one else had ever been able to? "You're going to take me home," she said briskly. "That was quite pleasant, but I have a great deal of work to do tomorrow, and I need my rest." "Quite pl easant?" It had been earth shattering, but she could no more confess that to him than she could explain how their coming together had given her an entirely new understanding of high speed subatomic particle collisions. God. Why was she thinking of that now? Everything people believed about her was true! She was a complete geek. She reached for her clothes. Her panties were lost somewhere in the dark, so she drew her jeans on without them, pulling them up over her wetness. 190 He threw open the door, and as the dome light flashed on, she drew her blouse across her breasts. He glanced down at her as he zipped his jeans. "You're not bad, Professor, for someone who isn't a big time player." His casual dismissal of what had been so important to her made her want to weep. Fool! But what did she expect? Did she think he was going to declare his undying love for her simply because she'd finally given him what he must have known he'd get all along? They rode home in silence. He went into the house with her, and she felt his gaze as she climbed the stairs to her room. She hesitated, then looked down at him watching her from the foyer below. "Thank you for a lovely evening." She'd meant to sound brisk, but her words had a wistful quality. She didn't want the evening to end this way. What if she held out her hand and invited him into her bed? The idea chilled her. Was that the only way she could keep him at her side? He slouched against the front door and looked bored. "Yeah, it was great." He couldn't have found a clearer way to tell her he was finished with her. With a man like Cal Bonner, she realized, the game was everything, and once it was over, he lost interest. Heartsick and angry, she turned and headed for her room. Moments later, she heard him drive away. 191 P leasant! She'd said it was pl easant! Cal sat at his favorite table in the corner of the Mountaineer and brooded. Usually there weren't any empty seats around him, but tonight everybody'd seemed to realize he had a giant mean on, and they'd given him wide berth. No matter how easily she'd dismissed what had happened between them, he knew Professor Rosebud had never had a better lover than she'd had tonight. There'd been none of that nonsense they'd gone through before, with her pushing his hands away.

 She'd wanted to be courted, and he was doing that, even if he'd chosen a peculiar way to go about it. And no matter what he said, she didn't think he still hated her because he smiled too much when they were together. He was also wily as a fox, she reminded herself, and he'd made no secret of the fact that he desired her. Since his moral code seemed to dictate fidelity, at least for the next few months, he either had to seduce her or go without. She wanted to believe he would be pursuing her even if they weren't caught in this impossible situation, but she couldn't quite make that leap of faith. Maybe she could strike a compromise. "I don't have a problem with it as long as you understand that I won't go all the way on a first date." He opened the bag and took out a handful of popcorn. "I respect you for that. 'Course, maybe we should discuss exactly how you're calculating when we had our first date. I seem to remember a surprise birthday—" "Cal . . ." He tossed the popcorn into his mouth. "There's some beer and juice in a cooler in the backseat. See if you can reach over there and get it." She turned around and saw a small Styrofoam cooler resting on the seat. She knelt and reached back for it, only to find herself being gently, but forcibly, upended. As she awkwardly scrambled to balance herself on the rear seat, she heard a chuckle that had a faintly diabolical sound to it. "Good idea, sweetheart. I'll just come right back there with you." Before she could react, he had let himself out the driver's door, opened the back, and settled down next to her. "Jeez . . ." She straightened her blouse. "Fathers must have locked up their daughters when they saw you coming." 183 "I didn't develop my best moves 'til I was in college." "Why don't you just be quiet and watch the movie." "Hand me one of those beers first." She did as he asked, taking a can of apple juice for herself and refusing the popcorn. He sipped his beer; she sipped her juice. They both leaned their heads back against the seat in companionable silence, with the dome light glowing above them. He stretched his arm across the seat behind her. "This movie's making me horny." Her heart gave a queer thump in her chest. "Which part? Where Maria sings about the hills being alive with the sound of music? r is it that do re mi thing the kids are doing?" A grin flicked across that hard mouth. "It's Maria, all right. You've just got to wonder what's underneath that apron she's wearing." The discussion was definitely getting dangerous. She couldn't remember feeling more at sea and less in touch with herself. She decided to buy a little time with a change of subject.

"My first date with a multimillionaire," she grumbled, "and this is what I get." "Don't hurt my feelings and tell me you've already seen the movie." She smiled and grabbed the door handle to keep from banging against it. Despite her grumbling, she wasn't exactly displeased with the idea of being alone with him at this abandoned drive in. It would benefit their baby, she told herself, if she and Cal got to know each other a little better. The Jeep's headlights swept the deserted lot, which looked like an eerie science fiction landscape with its concentric mounds of earth and row upon row of metal speaker poles. The car lurched as he headed toward the rear of the drive in, and she grabbed the dashboard with one hand while she instinctively covered her abdomen with the other. He glanced over. "Waking the little guy up?" It was the first time he'd acknowledged her pregnancy with anything other than hostility. She felt as if a blossom had slowly unfurled inside her, and she smiled. 181 He turned into the back row. "He can go back to sleep in a minute. That is, if he's not too busy solving equations." "You won't think it's so funny when she starts grouping her Cheerios in multiples of ten while the other kids are gumming away at them." "I swear, you're the most worryin' woman I've ever met. You act like having a brain is the worst tragedy on earth. The boy'll be fine. Just look at me. Having a brain didn't bother me any." "That's because you keep yours under lock and key." "Well, lock yours up for a while so we can enjoy the damn movie." There was nothing much she could say to that, so she didn't try. He moved to the center of the last row, just in front of a sagging chain link fence, and pulled into one of the spaces so that the front wheels were elevated by the dirt mound. He picked up the speaker, brought it into the car, hung it on top of the steering wheel, then closed the window to shut out the chilly night air. She refrained from mentioning that the speaker had no cord. He turned off the headlights and the engine, plunging them into darkness relieved only by a sliver of quarter moon. She shifted her attention to the distant screen, which was bisected by a silvery shaft of moonlight. "We should have gotten here earlier so we could get better seats." "The back row's the best." "Why is that?" "No little kids lookin' through the windows. I like my privacy when I'm makin' out." She swallowed hard. "Did you bring me here to make out?" "Pretty much." "Oh." 182 "You got a problem with that?" The moon slipped beneath a bank of clouds, leaving them in darkness. He flicked on the overhead light, and she saw the corner of his mouth kick up, making him the very picture of a self satisfied man. He twisted toward the backseat, reached down, and came up with a large bag of grocery store pop corn. Her brain was flashing out warning signals at the exact speed of light, but she was in no mood to listen.

 179 "Something wrong?" he inquired innocently. Jerk. He knew very well what was wrong. He was a walking, talking sexual fantasy. "Sorry. I was contemplating Seiberg Witten theory. Quite tricky." "I'll bet." His eyes swept over her in a way that made her feel her primping time hadn't been wasted. "Couldn't find a halter top, huh?" "They were all in the wash." He smiled, and as she watched that unexpected dimple pop into the hard plane beneath his cheekbone, she wondered what she was doing with a man like this? He was so far out of her league, he might have come from another solar system. She realized she'd forgotten her jacket and turned on the stairs to go back and fetch it. "Runnin' scared already?" "I need a jacket." "Wear this." He went to the closet and pulled out his gray zippered sweatshirt. She came down to meet him, and as he set it around her shoulders, his hands lingered there for a moment. She caught the heady scent of pine, soap, and something that was unmistakably Cal Bonner, an intoxicating hint of danger. The soft folds of the shirt settled over her hips. She glanced down at it and wished she were one of those women who looked cute in men's clothes, but she suspected she merely looked pudgy. He didn't appear to find anything wrong with her, however, so she took heart. He'd left the Jeep in the motor court, and, as always, he opened the door for her. As he started the car and headed down the drive toward the highway, she realized she was nervous, and she wished he'd say something to break the tension, but he seemed content to drive. They passed through town, where the stores were closed for the night, along with the Petticoat Junction Cafe. Down one of the side streets, she saw a lighted building with a number of cars parked around it. She deduced that was the Mountaineer. 180 They reached the edge of town and drove around Heartache Mountain. Just as she'd decided he was taking her to Annie's, he slowed the Jeep and turned into a badly rutted gravel lane. The headlights picked out a ramshackle structure no bigger than a tollbooth sitting just beyond the heavy chain that stretched across the road. "Where are we?" "See for yourself." He stopped the car and pulled a flashlight from under the seat. After he'd lowered the window, he shone the beam outside. She ducked her head and saw a starburst shaped sign made up of broken lightbulbs, peeling purple paint, and the words, Pride of Carolina. "This is where you're taking me for our date?" "You said you'd never gone on a drive in date when you were a teenager. I'm making it up to you." He grinned at her dumbfounded expression, flicked off the flashlight, and got out of the car to unfasten the chain that barred the road. When he returned, he drove forward, jarring her as the car hit the ruts.

 "It is?" "Of course." She gave him a silky smile. "How else can you possibly convince the world you're still twenty one?" 178 * * * On Wednesday night she took her time dressing for the mysterious date she'd finally agreed to go on, despite her misgivings. She showered, powdered, and perfumed. Then she was ashamed of herself for placing so much importance on the occasion. But she'd had such a good day, it was hard to be annoyed with herself for long. Her work had gone well, and she was enjoying the fact that Cal seemed to be hanging around the house a lot more this week. Today he'd even made an excuse to accompany her on her walk, saying he was afraid she'd get so preoccupied solving some damn formula that she'd get lost. She didn't like admitting how much she enjoyed being around him. She'd never met anyone who made her laugh as he did, while his razor sharp mind kept her on her toes. It was ironic that the intelligence that made him so attractive to her was also the source of her greatest concern. She pushed the unhappy reminder of her baby's future aside and thought about the battered red Ford Escort that had been delivered a few hours ago and hidden away behind an old shed in the far corner of the estate. Buying a used car by telephone might defy conventional wisdom, but she was satisfied with her purchase. True, the car wasn't anything to look at with its dented door, broken front grill work, and bad touch up job, but it had fit comfortably into her budget, and all she needed was basic transportation to get her through the next few months until she returned to Chicago and the perfectly good Saturn waiting in her garage. She also didn't intend to keep the car hidden, but she knew Cal was going to be furious, and she wanted to enjoy her evening before she broke the news to him that her imprisonment was at an end. She smiled as she finished dressing. She'd followed his instructions about wearing jeans, but instead of the halter top, she'd chosen a mulberry silk blouse and a pair of semi trashy gold hoop earrings that were more appropriate for one of Cal's baby dolls than a theoretical physicist. She couldn't figure out why she liked them so much. She unbuttoned the top button of her silk blouse and watched it fall open to show the lacy top of her black bra. She studied herself, sighed, and rebuttoned the blouse. For now, trashy earrings were as far as she was prepared to go. Cal came out into the foyer as she descended the stairs. He wore an old Stars' T shirt that outlined all of those beautifully developed chest muscles and was tucked into a pair of jeans so tight, faded, and threadbare he might as well have been naked. His gaze traveled over her like a lazy stream on a hot summer day. She flushed, then stumbled on the step and had to grab for the rail.

 "Gee, thanks." "I do like those marshmallows." "So you've said." She pushed the Lucky Charms to the side, and took another bite. "You know, don't you, cereal like that is made for children?" "Then I guess I'm a kid at heart." The only thing about him that reminded her of a kid was his immature attitude toward women. Was that what had kept him out until three in the morning? Picking up younger women? She saw no need to keep herself in suspense any longer. "Where were you last night?" "Checking up on me?" "No. I wasn't sleeping very well, and I heard you come in late, that's all." "Where I was doesn't have anything to do with you." "It does if you were with another woman." "Is that what you think?" He let his gaze ramble down over her body in what she could only interpret as a gesture of psychological warfare. She was wearing a red T shirt with Maxwell's Equations printed on it, although the final equation disappeared into the waistband of her slacks where she'd tucked it in. His eyes lingered on her hips, which certainly weren't as slim as the hips he was accustomed to seeing on his women. Still, she took heart from the fact that he didn't look all that critical. "It's crossed my mind." She pushed away her oatmeal and studied him. "I just want to know what the rules are. We haven't talked about this, and I think we should. Are we free to sleep with other people while we're married or not?" His eyebrows shot up. "We? What's this we?" 177 She kept her expression carefully blank. "I beg your pardon? I'm not following you." He shoved his hand through his hair. It had grown a bit longer in the last few weeks, and a spike stuck up on one side. "We're married," he said gruffly. "That's it." "That's what?" "It!" "Uhmm." "You're a married woman, and a pregnant one, to boot, in case you forgot." "And you're a married man." She paused. "In case you forgot." "Exactly." "So does that mean we're going to mess around with other people while we're married or we're not?" "It means we 're not!" She concealed her relief as she rose from the stool. "Okay. No messing around, but we can carouse until all hours of the night with no explanation and no apologies, right?" She watched him mull that one over and wondered how he'd work around it. She wasn't entirely surprised when he didn't try. "I get to carouse. You don't." "I see." She picked up her oatmeal bowl and carried it to the sink. She could feel him waiting for her to rip into him, and she knew him well enough to suspect he was relishing the challenge of defending a position he knew very well was indefensible. "Well, I suppose from your point of view that's only logical."