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rested her head on his shoulder for a moment. “No, love. I wasn’t thinking about your father.” She smiled. “But you were, weren’t you?”
    He looked uncomfortable. “Maybe a little. Just sort of … remembering.”
    “Let’s try not to, okay?”
    She knew he was remembering that last, dreadful Christmas they had seen Ellis. She had hoped that time would blur the memories, but it had not. Perhaps they were too firmly ingrained in his mind ever to leave him completely. She was just grateful that Roxy, only three at the time, had no recollection of that terrible night, and that Jason, who’d been seven, remembered only that one. To her mind, the times they had been alone, without Ellis, had been as bad as the one Jason remembered. The loneliness she had suffered, the feelings of inadequacy, the yearning for something that she had once thought would last forever had overwhelmed her. No human being should have to endure loneliness at this time of year, she realized.
    Getting to her feet, she took Jason’s hand and said, “Hey, let’s you and I get our jackets and shoes on. There’s something I want us to do together.”
    “What, Mom?”
    “Never mind. Just come on. You’ll see.”
    Marc opened his door to a tentative knock. Jason stood there, beaming up at him. “Hi, Marc. Mom and I have come to invite you for dinner.”
    Over the boy’s head, Marc sought out Sharon’s fathomless dark eyes. Without a hint of a smile, she nodded, a curt little motion that caused her hair to swing down across her cheeks, partly obscuring the quick flare of color there.
    “Thank you,” he said. “I can’t think of anything I’d like better.”

Chapter Three
    W HEN THE DOORBELL RANG , Sharon froze, feeling goosebumps rise up on her arms under the long sleeves of her dress. With her heart hammering high in her throat, she went into the foyer and opened the door, standing back so Marc could enter.
    “You look beautiful,” he said, eyes skimming over her black silk dress with its glittery red and silver bow pinned high on her left shoulder, and the red band holding her sleek hair back from her forehead. He handed her a brightly wrapped package, holding two more in the crook of his arm, and the smile that lit his golden brown eyes was suddenly as precious to Sharon as any of the gifts she had received under the tree.
    “Thank you,” she said, “for both the compliment and the gift. But you certainly didn’t have to do this. I didn’t expect it.”
    “I know you didn’t, any more than I expected your invitation. But I wanted to give you something. These are for the children.”
    “How nice of you. I’ll call them.”
    “No. Not yet. I want to talk to you alone for just a moment.” He lifted his free hand and touched her hair, then her cheek. His dark gold eyes were very serious. “Last night…” He swallowed. “Last night, what happened was important to me, Sharon. I want you to know that. I’ve wanted to hold you, touch you, kiss you, for a very long time. Ever since I first saw you. And I want to do it again,” he added, almost in a whisper.
    His soft voice got right inside her, twanging on nerve endings that should be left in peace, leaving her with a hot throbbing in the base of her abdomen. Fear struck her, fear that if he pushed this issue, she wouldn’t be able to resist the crazy attraction between them any more than she had the previous night. She’d liked believing that it was only out of loneliness the incident had occurred. She’d finally gone to sleep convinced that mutual melancholy had driven them into each other’s arms. Those kisses … Heaven help her! She didn’t want to remember them, but her body wouldn’t forget. Still, she had to fight it.
    “Marc … please. It shouldn’t have happened. It won’t, not again.” And it wouldn’t, she promised herself. Because if it did, if she allowed herself to listen to the dictates of her body rather than her mind, she’d get all tangled