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ignored both threat and plea. "You are a wonderful man, Bey, but you are incomplete. If you die incomplete, it will be tragedy."

"There are worse things than tragedy. One is weakness. Another is stupidity. A third is self-indulgence. A fourth," he said, feeling his temper snap, "is friends who don't know when to stop."

She rose, perhaps in response to the challenge. "I don't want you to die."

"You said that before. You are not God. Even I am not God."

"Bey, I fear that one day, in the not too distant future, you will kill yourself."

He stared at her, anger washed away by blank surprise. "That's absurd. What sign have I ever given of self-destructiveness?"

"You fought Curry."

"That was for other reasons entirely. I wasn't looking for death." When she continued to look at him, he said, "I give you my word, Sappho. I will never put a pistol to my head."

"Of course you won't," she said with what looked like a frown of impatience. "It would leave a mess for someone else to tidy up."

"I won't put an end to myself in any way. I promise."

She walked around the table toward him, moving with that special grace which was neither studied fashion nor erotic sway. He loved the way she moved. For the first time he wondered if she would want to make love tonight, and was surprised by an unwillingness that had nothing to do with this battle they engaged in now.

If she asked, however, he would oblige. It was part of the nature of their friendship.

Instead, she put a hand to his cheek. "I worry, Bey. I worry that one day you will, like a machine, just stop."

"I am not a machine."

He put an arm around her waist and drew her close. Perhaps sex wasn't a bad idea after all. It would put an end to this and might shake him free of uncomfortable reactions to Lady Arradale.

"No, but you share some of the properties of a machine." She neither encouraged nor resisted his hold. "You require to be wound up before you can function."

A laugh escaped him at that. "Then thank God you're good at it."

She smiled, but continued. "Now your family is all settled, who will wind the spring so the machine can go through its paces day after day?"

He put her aside. "Family problems won't end. They never do."

"But they all have someone else to take care of them now."

"I am not exactly short of occupation."

She approached again, and he found he'd let himself be backed into a corner. Short of obvious flight, he could not escape.

"You need passion, Bey," Sappho said. "Do you not know you are a man who cannot live without passion? No," she said as he drew her against him again, hoping to shut her up. "Not sex. Passion. Your family has been your passion since you were nineteen years old. Everything you have done since then has been directly or indirectly because of them."

"Even you?" He used it as an attack.

"Of course, even me. I am safe. I have a full life and other lovers. I am happily undemanding. What we have physically is delightful, but most of what we have is of the mind. I have been necessary to you, because even without your concerns over your mother's blood, you could not have married until now. You could not have weakened the completeness of your dedication to your brothers and sisters."

With hands on her arms, he pushed her away. "What book does all this nonsense come from?"

She smiled. Pityingly?

"Take comfort then," he said, stepping sideways and away. "For at least a few weeks I will have the Countess of Arradale to fret over."

"With passion?" she queried, still calm.

"Not if I can help it."

He heard the desperate edge in his own voice, and saw her smile widen. Devil take her.

She held out a hand. "Come, kiss me, Bey."

For the first time ever, he refused. "The mood is awry."

"Just a kiss." She came to him, and took his hands between hers. "I think it might be the last."

With a shake of his head, he carried her hands to his lips. "I do not intend to marry, Sappho. Nothing has changed. And Lady Arradale has equally excellent reasons to stay single."

"I know," she said, but without losing her smile.

"So this will not be the last time unless you choose it to be so."

She stepped close, and with one hand, drew his head down to hers. "I will not refuse you if you come to

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