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but… I'm very attracted to you, and I know you share
the same attraction. I see it in your eyes."
    Celeste tried to speak, to blurt it out, but again her voice failed
her. Somehow his eyes that seemed to reflect equal measures of hope and
desperation tangled the words on her tongue.
    "I've made so many mistakes in my life," Fox said. "Lost so many
chances at happiness. I just think that if there's a possibility for
something between us, we should pursue it."
    "It's late," Celeste said shakily as she walked to the front door.
"It's been a long day. I think I'll retire." Somehow the thought that
Fox might turn away in disgust seemed unacceptable tonight. For tonight
she needed to savor the illusion that she was a respectable woman. She
needed to relish the hope that flamed from his attraction to her.
    "I really am sorry. I don't know what came over me. I'll get my bag and go, but tomorrow I'd like—"
    "Get your bag and go where?" She was feeling more steady, her old, practical self again.
    "A hotel, of course."
    She paused, wondering if she should just let him stay. It would be
easier that way. Safer. "This was your father's house. There are spare
bedrooms. I expected you to stay here."
    He shook his head. "I couldn't. I wouldn't want to give the town gossips reason to question your virtue."
    Celeste nearly laughed aloud, her nerves were so raw. Her
virtue?
Her virtue had been gone eight years, gone since that beautiful summer
evening in Denver. But she didn't laugh because she was touched. How
considerate of him to think of her, rather than his own comfort.
    She pushed open the door that led into the front foyer. She felt
weary to the bone. "Fox, there's not a hotel in town. They've all
burned or been boarded up. I told you most everything has closed." She
held open the door for him. "So unless you intend to spend the night in
a bordello, I suggest you come inside before I lock the door for the
night."
    He hesitated.
    "It's all right," she said with tired exasperation. "No one will think badly of either of us."
    He passed her in the doorway. "I don't want to be a bother."
    She walked away, headed for the sanctuary of her bedroom. "Then lock up." She tapped her thigh. "Come, Silver. Come, boy."
    The yellow mutt bounded from the shadows of the parlor and followed her up the steps.
    "Take the room at the end of the hall." She ran her hand along the
smooth, rosewood banister as she made her ascent. "There are clean
linens in the armoire. You can make a bed, can't you?"
    "Tightest corners in San Francisco."
    She turned away, headed up the stairs. His face was too handsome. He
was too kind. Her lips still tingled from his kiss. Fox MacPhearson was
trouble.
     
    Fox paced the bedroom in the darkness, listening to the boom of
thunder and the patter of rain on the tin roof. Occasionally a bolt of
lightning lit the room in eerie brilliance before enfolding him in
darkness once again.
    Fox removed his coat, but made no further attempt to undress. He was
tired, but knew he couldn't sleep. He wished desperately that he had a
cigar, but he'd given up that vice with the drink.
    "I can't believe I asked her to marry me," he said aloud and thumped
himself on the forehead with the heel of his hand. "Idiot. I find the
perfect woman, and then I make an imbecile out of myself in front of
her."
    He sighed as he walked to the window and drew back the lace curtain
to peer into the darkness. Lightning lit up the sky, and Fox caught a
glimpse of himself in the reflection of the glass. He didn't like what
he saw.
    "A place to begin again," he whispered. "A new beginning. A second
chance." He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to the cold glass
windowpane. He couldn't sleep because he couldn't close his eyes. He
couldn't close his eyes because when he did, he saw
her.
Dead. Wide-eyed, yet unseeing.
    Guilt washed over Fox as he clenched a fist at his side.
"A new beginning,"
he whispered. He turned away from the window and pushed the thoughts