game of twenty questions, isn't it?"
"Why aren't you married?" he persisted.
She gave a small shrug that he couldn't see and told him the truth. "It's
just never quite worked out. My engagement ended when my fiancé told
me he needed to be free to 'find himself.' He was in the philosophy
department," she added by way of explanation. "Philosophers worry a lot
about finding themselves, I discovered."
"Better for everyone if they stay lost," Julian muttered. "The world
already has enough conflicting philosophies. Did your ex-fiancé ever
succeed?"
"In finding himself? I don't know. He did, however, find a charming
young female student in one of his classes who wanted to help him in the
search."
"I see. You don't sound particularly upset over it."
"I'm not. That all happened about three years ago and it was all for the
best."
"And since then?"
"Since then nothing's ever gotten beyond the casual stage," she
admitted. Except with you , she added silently. And you've made it clear
you're not cut out for anything permanent .
"I don't see how any man could remain casual toward you," Julian said
thoughtfully. "You must be the one who keeps your dates at arm's length.
Are you regretting the fact that you didn't manage to do that with me last
night?"
Anne faltered as he made the deliberate reference to the passion she
was trying to deny. "Poor Julian. That must have been a very interesting
hallucination you had last night. How does your head feel?" she added
crisply.
"Incredibly better," he admitted, sounding vaguely surprised.
"I'll convey your appreciation to Allen next time I see him," she couldn't
resist saying as she got up from the bed.
"You do that," Julian countered, turning cautiously onto his back,
golden eyes gleaming up at her with faint menace. "Right after you tell
him how you spent the night with me."
"Allen would be the first to understand that someone had to play nurse
to you last night," Anne managed sweetly.
The menace in his eyes grew a little stronger. "Go fix me some hot tea
before I risk renewing the headache with a little physical exertion," he
suggested meaningfully.
Anne fled to the kitchen, not knowing whether to be glad he seemed on
the road to recovery or annoyed because of his quarrelsome manner.
Memories of when he had clung to her, not in passion, but to still the chills
that racked his body made the decision for her. She would be glad that he
was recovering.
That altruistic attitude lasted only as long as the next challenge Julian
issued, however. She had awakened him for his dinner, pleased to see that
his color appeared much better than it had at noon. He sat up in bed,
surveying the meal of curried stew and a thick chunk of bread. He looked
as though he had the beginnings of an appetite.
"Did you make this?" he asked curiously.
"Well, it didn't come out of a can," she retorted, sitting down in the
chair to eat with him. "I scrounged around in your freezer and found a
package labeled lamb. You also had a sack of potatoes and some onions
and carrots." She lifted one shoulder as if the result were inevitable.
"Not bad," he remarked grudgingly. "If you keep putting meals like this
together I might let you stay for a while."
"Gee, thanks." She dipped her chunk of bread into the stew and took a
bite.
He looked at her intently for a moment. "When do you have to be back
at work?"
"I've got a month's leave of absence."
"Because of Mike?"
"Yes."
"But he is going to be okay, isn't he?" Julian asked slowly.
"The doctors say he'll recover. But it's going to be a long process.
Fortunately he has Lucy."
"His fiancée, you said."
"That's right." Anne dipped the bread into the stew again, enjoying her
own cooking and the knowledge that in spite of his grouchiness Julian was
enjoying it, too.
"Then you don't have to rush back to his bedside."
"No."
He nodded. "You can stay here for a while, then," he finally said.
"Only a couple more days at the
"Why aren't you married?" he persisted.
She gave a small shrug that he couldn't see and told him the truth. "It's
just never quite worked out. My engagement ended when my fiancé told
me he needed to be free to 'find himself.' He was in the philosophy
department," she added by way of explanation. "Philosophers worry a lot
about finding themselves, I discovered."
"Better for everyone if they stay lost," Julian muttered. "The world
already has enough conflicting philosophies. Did your ex-fiancé ever
succeed?"
"In finding himself? I don't know. He did, however, find a charming
young female student in one of his classes who wanted to help him in the
search."
"I see. You don't sound particularly upset over it."
"I'm not. That all happened about three years ago and it was all for the
best."
"And since then?"
"Since then nothing's ever gotten beyond the casual stage," she
admitted. Except with you , she added silently. And you've made it clear
you're not cut out for anything permanent .
"I don't see how any man could remain casual toward you," Julian said
thoughtfully. "You must be the one who keeps your dates at arm's length.
Are you regretting the fact that you didn't manage to do that with me last
night?"
Anne faltered as he made the deliberate reference to the passion she
was trying to deny. "Poor Julian. That must have been a very interesting
hallucination you had last night. How does your head feel?" she added
crisply.
"Incredibly better," he admitted, sounding vaguely surprised.
"I'll convey your appreciation to Allen next time I see him," she couldn't
resist saying as she got up from the bed.
"You do that," Julian countered, turning cautiously onto his back,
golden eyes gleaming up at her with faint menace. "Right after you tell
him how you spent the night with me."
"Allen would be the first to understand that someone had to play nurse
to you last night," Anne managed sweetly.
The menace in his eyes grew a little stronger. "Go fix me some hot tea
before I risk renewing the headache with a little physical exertion," he
suggested meaningfully.
Anne fled to the kitchen, not knowing whether to be glad he seemed on
the road to recovery or annoyed because of his quarrelsome manner.
Memories of when he had clung to her, not in passion, but to still the chills
that racked his body made the decision for her. She would be glad that he
was recovering.
That altruistic attitude lasted only as long as the next challenge Julian
issued, however. She had awakened him for his dinner, pleased to see that
his color appeared much better than it had at noon. He sat up in bed,
surveying the meal of curried stew and a thick chunk of bread. He looked
as though he had the beginnings of an appetite.
"Did you make this?" he asked curiously.
"Well, it didn't come out of a can," she retorted, sitting down in the
chair to eat with him. "I scrounged around in your freezer and found a
package labeled lamb. You also had a sack of potatoes and some onions
and carrots." She lifted one shoulder as if the result were inevitable.
"Not bad," he remarked grudgingly. "If you keep putting meals like this
together I might let you stay for a while."
"Gee, thanks." She dipped her chunk of bread into the stew and took a
bite.
He looked at her intently for a moment. "When do you have to be back
at work?"
"I've got a month's leave of absence."
"Because of Mike?"
"Yes."
"But he is going to be okay, isn't he?" Julian asked slowly.
"The doctors say he'll recover. But it's going to be a long process.
Fortunately he has Lucy."
"His fiancée, you said."
"That's right." Anne dipped the bread into the stew again, enjoying her
own cooking and the knowledge that in spite of his grouchiness Julian was
enjoying it, too.
"Then you don't have to rush back to his bedside."
"No."
He nodded. "You can stay here for a while, then," he finally said.
"Only a couple more days at the
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