the effort it cost him.
"Get back into bed, Julian. You need to rest," she said with sudden
urgency, moving forward to take his arm. "Please, stop acting like this.
You've been very ill and you have no business staging a major scene."
He didn't budge under her prodding. Instead his hand moved around
her nape and he held her as though she were an annoying kitten. "I will
stage any kind of scene I please," he bit out savagely. "And, weak as I am,
you're still not big enough or strong enough to stop me. Understand?"
The wounded lion was roaring now and Anne knew he was right about
one fact. Even weak and in pain he could still overpower her if he chose.
"I understand, Julian."
"Good." He released her and staggered back to the bed, throwing
himself down on it with a groan. Eyes closed he drew a deep breath. "We
will discuss this further in the morning," he announced in a tone that was
icy with the force of his effort to control it. "I'm going to get some sleep."
"Yes, Julian," Anne agreed meekly, knowing his head was probably
throbbing again. She ached to be able to comfort him. Hurrying into the
bathroom she picked up the aspirin bottle and a glass of water and carried
both back into the bedroom.
Julian accepted the tablets gruffly after first making certain they
weren't from the prescription bottle. Then he turned over on his stomach,
burying his face in the pillow.
Without a word Anne sat down on the bed and began to massage his
neck and shoulders again. He allowed her to minister to him as if he were
tolerating a minor nuisance. But beneath her touch, she felt him begin to
relax.
Poor lion, Anne thought with a small smile. He didn't know how to ask
for a little tender loving care, not even when he needed it very badly. She
wondered at the years of isolation and self-contained living that could
breed such a fierce aloneness.
Julian Aries needed a wife and a home. But, then, she'd known that
much six months ago. His refusal to accept his own needs made her wary
of him.
4
« ^ »
"Y ou're going to go through with it, aren't you?"
Two days later, ensconced on the living-room sofa with an old striped
wool blanket over his legs, Julian acknowledged the inevitable. He was not,
Anne decided, a gracious loser. It had been a hard-fought battle, she
reflected. Julian had used almost every trick in the book except one.
He had tried to intimidate her, argued that he had an obligation to her
brother to keep her out of trouble, informed her that she was not very
bright, tried to order her obedience and had finally resorted to calm,
rational discussion in an attempt to dissuade her. The one argument he
had not tried was that she couldn't go through with the plan because he
needed her to look after him.
Of course, Anne thought, that was the one tactic he never would use.
Julian could not admit that he needed anyone, especially her. The certain
knowledge filled her with a sense of hopelessness regarding their
relationship. He wasn't the only one who needed to accept reality this
morning, she thought as she finished washing the breakfast dishes. She
needed a dose of it herself.
"I'm going through with it, Julian. I told you that two days ago."
"Even though I have absolutely forbidden the whole scheme?" he
gritted.
"I thought you'd given up on the intimidation approach," she observed.
"We were trying logic and reason the last time I tuned in."
"I gave up on both when you made it clear they weren't going to have
much effect." Julian drank his coffee broodingly, his eyes never leaving her
as she went about the kitchen chores. "I don't know why you're so dead set
on this crazy plan. When your brother is out of the hospital he can renew
his investigation and set up another scheme to trap those ghost hunters."
"I'm going through with it because I've got a good chance of making the
whole thing work. They're on to Michael now. He won't be able to get close
to them again. But they can't
"Get back into bed, Julian. You need to rest," she said with sudden
urgency, moving forward to take his arm. "Please, stop acting like this.
You've been very ill and you have no business staging a major scene."
He didn't budge under her prodding. Instead his hand moved around
her nape and he held her as though she were an annoying kitten. "I will
stage any kind of scene I please," he bit out savagely. "And, weak as I am,
you're still not big enough or strong enough to stop me. Understand?"
The wounded lion was roaring now and Anne knew he was right about
one fact. Even weak and in pain he could still overpower her if he chose.
"I understand, Julian."
"Good." He released her and staggered back to the bed, throwing
himself down on it with a groan. Eyes closed he drew a deep breath. "We
will discuss this further in the morning," he announced in a tone that was
icy with the force of his effort to control it. "I'm going to get some sleep."
"Yes, Julian," Anne agreed meekly, knowing his head was probably
throbbing again. She ached to be able to comfort him. Hurrying into the
bathroom she picked up the aspirin bottle and a glass of water and carried
both back into the bedroom.
Julian accepted the tablets gruffly after first making certain they
weren't from the prescription bottle. Then he turned over on his stomach,
burying his face in the pillow.
Without a word Anne sat down on the bed and began to massage his
neck and shoulders again. He allowed her to minister to him as if he were
tolerating a minor nuisance. But beneath her touch, she felt him begin to
relax.
Poor lion, Anne thought with a small smile. He didn't know how to ask
for a little tender loving care, not even when he needed it very badly. She
wondered at the years of isolation and self-contained living that could
breed such a fierce aloneness.
Julian Aries needed a wife and a home. But, then, she'd known that
much six months ago. His refusal to accept his own needs made her wary
of him.
4
« ^ »
"Y ou're going to go through with it, aren't you?"
Two days later, ensconced on the living-room sofa with an old striped
wool blanket over his legs, Julian acknowledged the inevitable. He was not,
Anne decided, a gracious loser. It had been a hard-fought battle, she
reflected. Julian had used almost every trick in the book except one.
He had tried to intimidate her, argued that he had an obligation to her
brother to keep her out of trouble, informed her that she was not very
bright, tried to order her obedience and had finally resorted to calm,
rational discussion in an attempt to dissuade her. The one argument he
had not tried was that she couldn't go through with the plan because he
needed her to look after him.
Of course, Anne thought, that was the one tactic he never would use.
Julian could not admit that he needed anyone, especially her. The certain
knowledge filled her with a sense of hopelessness regarding their
relationship. He wasn't the only one who needed to accept reality this
morning, she thought as she finished washing the breakfast dishes. She
needed a dose of it herself.
"I'm going through with it, Julian. I told you that two days ago."
"Even though I have absolutely forbidden the whole scheme?" he
gritted.
"I thought you'd given up on the intimidation approach," she observed.
"We were trying logic and reason the last time I tuned in."
"I gave up on both when you made it clear they weren't going to have
much effect." Julian drank his coffee broodingly, his eyes never leaving her
as she went about the kitchen chores. "I don't know why you're so dead set
on this crazy plan. When your brother is out of the hospital he can renew
his investigation and set up another scheme to trap those ghost hunters."
"I'm going through with it because I've got a good chance of making the
whole thing work. They're on to Michael now. He won't be able to get close
to them again. But they can't
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