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wouldn’t infringe on whatever torch you’re carrying. The kind of arrangement we’re talking about would only work if we both really did feel the same way, if we both thought we stood to gain by it. Of course, a certain amount of keeping up appearances would be necessary. I’ve noticed how you get an attack of the vapors every time I touch you. It would certainly be impossible for both of us if you had hysterics every time our elbows happened to jostle over an occasional breakfast table.”
    “Don’t be silly,” Leigh said petulantly, furious with herself for having repeatedly revealed so much to him.
    With a sense of shock, she saw that he was buttoning his suit coat. He was done talking, then. He was free to walk out. There would be no baby, no longer even a hope of one, and all of it probably quickly forgotten by this dark stranger who seemed so perfect for her purposes.
    “You may need a wife—a wife and child—for now, Brian,” she reflected aloud, “but later you might change your mind. Still,” she considered, “if by then I were pregnant…the child means everything to me. It sounds crazy, but I could almost believe—”
    “Nine months as a trial?” he broke in. “Your nine months, Leigh.” Abruptly, he made for the door, saying she could have until Saturday to change her mind. He would pick her up at eleven, and they would iron out whatever else needed discussing. And then, he simply left, barely giving her the chance to say good-night.
    In a daze she took the two empty glasses to the kitchen and washed them out before wearily climbing the stairs to bed. She gathered the covers snugly around her, eager to put an end to a day that had been too long. Yet her eyes remained wide open in the darkness.
    She seemed to be under the insane illusion that she was engaged to be married. And it was insane. Perhaps she had even wanted to be taken in by all that talk about honesty and respect; perhaps she had once considered those particular traits as critically important in a mate; perhaps she was even desperate to believe in trust, just to a degree… But could she really trust Brian Hathaway? From the first, he had thrown her off-balance as she had allowed no other man to do in years. His sexuality was so blatant, and the appraising perception of his eyes so disconcerting. It was impossible not to imagine how easily a man like that could overpower someone like her. She had a memory of another pair of arms that had forcibly held her, and they had not been nearly as strong as Brian’s. A memory that filled her with fear and revulsion. But she wanted that baby. She needed to love; she needed to be needed. Was that so very wrong? She had feared that her need was a selfish one, but after much soul-searching she’d concluded that she had a great deal of love and cherishing and warmth to give, and enough character within herself to encourage spirit, not dependence, in a child.
    She closed her eyes, desperately trying to think. She’d never liked domineering men, and Brian Hathaway certainly was that. He was also arrogant, uncannily perceptive, egotistical…and yet, he had been honest. She believed that. The man’s integrity—his own brand—was not to be doubted.
    It was all so easy, really. He was nothing like Peter; it was inconceivable that she could hurt him. And he was offering all and more than she wanted. The only real question was whether she would be able to trust him not to touch her. But Robert would be there; they would not have to see each other very often; and perhaps in time that trust… No!
    Yet the image of the child persuaded her, lulling her fears, just before sleep finally came.

Chapter 4
    Saturday morning was misty and cool. A few minutes before eleven, Leigh walked out onto the back patio, wanting a last breath of fresh air to steady her nerves. Her hair, a mixture of chestnut and fire in the sunlight, whispered against her cheeks in the breeze. She was dressed for her meeting with Brian