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was too shrill, too high.
    He went up another step. "Then why are you running away? You've been backing up those stairs the way one would back away from a cobra."
    Her face was scarlet. "I—I told you that I want to get dressed. I don't like schlepping around in my robe all day, that's all."
    "I'd hardly say you were guilty of that. It's not quite nine o'clock. A lot of people aren't even out of bed at this hour on a Saturday morning."
    "I'm surprised that you are," she blurted out, and was promptly horrified with herself. She couldn't really have said that!

    Greg picked up instantly on her allusion. "You thought Td take advantage of my children's absence and spend the morning in bed with Francine Gallier?"
    Maggie was flustered by his accurate guess. "You have every right to do what you want, Dr. Wilder, M she said hastily. She didn't want him to think her a condemning prude! "You are both consenting adults and—"
    "Not after last night," he interrupted grimly. "I wouldn't consent to a damn thing with that coldblooded bitch."
    Maggie stared at him, nonplussed. "You . . . didn't have a good time last night?" Her curiosity momentarily overrode her embarrassment, modesty, and inhibitions. She unconsciously took one step down, forgetting to keep her arms crossed in front of her.
    "A good time? Ha! The evening went downhill from the moment we left here."
    If the evening had deteriorated from blaring horns and Greg's tight-lipped fury, Maggie thought, they must have hit new depths of rancor. The pits, as Kristin would say, and Maggie wasn't altogether displeased by the notion.
    "What happened?" she dared to ask, wondering if she was being presumptuous or nosy and deciding that she was definitely being both.
    "First of all, I didn't appreciate her leaning on the car horn while I made arrangements for my children's care," Greg said with a self-righteous sniff that made Maggie smile. "Then, as we were both fuming along Route 8,1 started to think about Max jumping her the way he did. Now, I realize that Max may be a pain at times"—Greg took another step up and Maggie took one down, both seemingly unaware of their actions— "but he has never attacked anyone without some sort of provocation. So I asked Francine what she'd said to Max to make him react so violently."
    "Did she tell you?"

    "She became so defensive that I knew shed said something terrible to him. When I finally got it out of her, I was so furious, I could scarcely speak." He clenched his fists, his eyes darkening at the memory. "I took her back to her place and told her to get out of the car, that I was going home. I think she got my message."
    "I should think so," Maggie said dryly.
    "Do you know what she said to Max?"
    She nodded tentatively. She well understood his parental rage.
    "She threatened to throw his teddy bear into the Potomac!" Greg's voice was indignant with anger. "What kind of a woman talks that way to a small child? It was a cruel and sadistic threat, particularly knowing how attached he is to that bear, and I told her so. I have no intention of ever seeing that woman again."
    Was he sorry about that? Maggie wondered. Perhaps he wasn't now, in the heat of his anger, but later on, would he come to miss the sexy Francine? "You might change your mind and make up with her again," she heard herself say and wondered why on earth she had said it. She knew why the moment she heard his reply.
    "Make up with her? Why would I want to do that? I haven't been dating her long and certainly not exclusively. And I have no intention of wasting a minute of my time on a woman heartless enough to terrorize a child. My child!" he added vehemently.
    She'd wanted to hear him say that, Maggie realized with dawning awareness. Hearing Greg reject the beautiful Francine was music to her ears. She gave him a beatific smile.
    "After I rid myself of Francine, I drove home and took Paula to her girlfriend's house to spend the night," he continued. "Then I went back hoirje,