Absolutely, Positively

about it for a good thirty seconds before he made his decision. He looked up from the brandy and found Molly watching him with calm perception and something that might have been sympathy.

    “I got into this mess because I had some damn fool notion of ending the feud between the Strattons and the Trevelyans,” Harry said eventually.

    “Ah.” Complete understanding lit Molly's eyes. “Of course.”

    “The only thing my parents wanted from either side of the family was peace. It was the one thing no one would give them.”

    “And as the one who has blood from both sides flowing in his veins, you decided to try to build a bridge between the Strattons and the Trevelyans.”

    Harry swirled the brandy in his glass. “That was the general idea.”

    “It was to be your tribute to the memory of your parents, wasn't it?”

    “Something like that.” He wasn't surprised that she understood it all, in one single gulp. What startled him was the odd sense of relief he experienced now that he had confided his quixotic dream to her.

    “You're committed to ending the feud just as I'm committed to my father's foundation.”

    “Yes,” Harry said. “But just between you and me, I think you're going to be a lot more successful with the Abberwick Foundation than I'm going to be with ending the Trevelyan-Stratton feud.”

    “Really?”

    “After all these years, both sides of my family look at me and still see the past, not the future. Each wants me to make a choice between the two families, and neither will be satisfied until I do.”

    “And you won't do that.”

    “I'm half Stratton and half Trevelyan. How can I choose?”

    “I notice that the feud doesn't stop anyone on either side of your family from using you,” Molly said dryly. “It's weird, isn't it, Harry?”

    “What is?”

    “That even though you're the family outcast, in a way you've managed to become the head of both clans?”

    “I'm not the head of the families,” Harry said. “I'm just the fool who got stuck in the middle. There's a big difference.”

11

    Molly could not stand the ravishing torment any longer. She was so buffeted by the endless waves of pleasure that she could hardly catch her breath. Harry's stunningly intimate touch left her shivering with need. He made love to her with an enthralling thoroughness. His powerful, elegant hands were gentle and sure and utterly relentless. He coaxed the climax from her as if he were mining liquid diamonds. His long fingers glistened in the moonlight.

    “Harry. Oh, my God, Harry. Please. No. I can't…I can't…”

    “Jump,” he whispered against her skin. “I'll catch you.”

    The delicious tension exploded inside her. She clenched her fists in his dark hair and surrendered with a wordless gasp of wonder. He held himself back, waiting until she was trembling in the heart of the storm before he pushed deeply into her body. Molly trembled at the impact.

    She wrapped Harry close and clung to him as he shuddered heavily in the throes of his own release.

    It wasn't until he sprawled on top of her, the skin of his shoulders damp with perspiration and the elemental scent of sex thick in the air, that Molly realized the truth.

    It had been good. Better than good. It had been a fantastic, deliciously erotic, incredibly sensual experience. But something had been different this time.

    Something had been missing.

    She lay awake for a long while afterward. Granted, she did not have a great deal of experience, which made logical comparisons difficult. But last night her body had been tuned to Harry's in some way she could not explain. Tonight everything within her, each nerve and muscle, had tried to recapture the experience. She had come close, but it had not been the same.

    The sense of resonance was missing.

    Last night Harry had opened a locked door and invited her into a secret chamber. Tonight that door had remained firmly closed. Molly knew she would not be fully satisfied until he unlocked it again.

    She awoke alone in the big bed. For a few drowsy seconds it seemed entirely normal to have the bed to herself. Then she opened her eyes and saw the unfamiliar expanse of night sky outside the wall of windows. Her first clear thought was that there was too much darkness. Then she remembered that she was in Harry's bed, and she should not be alone. Harry should have been there with her.

    She stirred and peered at the clock. The illuminated numbers informed her that it was nearly