A Will and a Way

own.
    The kiss was no test this time, but torrid, hot, edging toward desperate. Whatever she might feel, she’d dissect later. Now she’d accept the experience. His mouth was warm, firm, and he used it with the same cocky male confidence that would have infuriated her at any other time. Now she met it with her own.
    He was strong, insistent. For the first time Pandora felt herself body to body with a man who wouldn’t treat her delicately. He demanded, expected and gave a completely uninhibited physicality. Pandora didn’t have to think her way through the kiss. She didn’t have to think at all.
    He’d expected her to rear back and take a swing at him. Her instant and full response left him reeling. Later Michael would recall that nothing as basic and simple as a kiss had made his head spin for years.
    She packed a punch, but she did it with soft lips. If she knew just how quickly she’d knocked him out, would she gloat? He wouldn’t think of it now. He wouldn’t think of anything now. Without a moment’s hesitation, he buried his consciousness in her and let the senses rule.
    The cabin was cold and dark without even a single stream ofmoonlight for romance. It smelled of dying smoke and settling dust. The wind had kicked up enough to moan grumpily at the windows. Neither of them noticed. Even when they broke apart, neither of them noticed.
    He wasn’t steady. That was something else he’d think about later. At least he had the satisfaction of seeing she wasn’t steady, either. She looked as he felt, stunned, off balance and unable to set for the next blow. Needing some equilibrium, he grinned at her.
    “You were saying?”
    She wanted to slug him. She wanted to kiss him again until he didn’t have the strength to grin. He’d expect her to fall at his feet as other women probably did. He’d expect her to sigh and smile and surrender so he’d have one more victory. Instead she snapped, “Idiot.”
    “I love it when you’re succinct.”
    “Rule number six,” Pandora stated, aiming a killing look. “No physical contact.”
    “No physical contact,” Michael agreed as she stomped toward the doorway. “unless both parties enjoy it.”
    She slammed the door and left him grinning.
     
    When two people are totally involved in their own projects, they can live under the same roof for days at a time and rarely see each other. Especially if the roof is enormous and the people very stubborn. Pandora and Michael brushed together at meals and otherwise left each other alone. This wasn’t out of any sense of politeness or consideration. It was simply because each of them was too busy to heckle the other.
    Separately, however, each felt a smug satisfaction when the first month passed. One down, five to go.
    When they were into their second month, Michael drove into New York for a day to handle a problem with a script that had to be dealt with personally. He left, cross as a bear and muttering about imbeciles. Pandora prepared to enjoy herself tremendously in his absence. She wouldn’t have to keep up her guard or share the Folley for hours. She could do anything she wanted without worrying about anyone coming to look over her shoulder or make a caustic remark. It would be wonderful.
    She ended up picking at her dinner, then watching for his car through the heavy brocade drapes. Not because she missed him , she assured herself. It was just that she’d become used to having someone in the house.
    Wasn’t that one of the reasons she’d never lived with anyone before? She wanted to avoid any sense of dependence. And dependence, she decided, was natural when you shared the same space—even when it was with a two-legged snake.
    So she waited, and she watched. Long after Charles and Sweeney had gone to bed, she continued to wait and watch. She wasn’t concerned, and certainly not lonely. Only restless. She told herself she didn’t go to bed herself because she wasn’t tired. Wandering the first floor, she walked into Jolley’s den. Game room would have been a more appropriate name. The decor was a cross between video arcade and disco lounge with its state-of-the-art components and low, curved-back sofas.
    She turned on the huge, fifty-four-inch television, then leftit on the first show that appeared. She wasn’t going to watch it. She just wanted the company.
    There were two pinball tables where she passed nearly an hour trying to beat the high scores Jolley had left behind. Another legacy. Then there