The Art of Deception

your head to the right again. You keep breaking the pose.”
    “Slave driver.” But she obeyed and tried to concentrate.
    “Cracking the whip’s the only way to work with you.” With care, he began to perfect the folds in the skirt of her dress. He wanted them soft, flowing, but clearly defined. “You’d better get used to posing for me. I’ve already several other studies in mind that I’ll start after we’re married.”
    Giddiness washed over her. She felt it in waves—physical, emotional—she couldn’t tell one from the other. Without thinking, she dropped her arms.
    “Damn it, Kirby.” He started to swear at her again when he saw how wide and dark her eyes were. “What is it?”
    “I hadn’t thought…I didn’t realize that you…” Lifting a hand to her spinning head, she walked around the room. The bracelets slid down to her elbow with a musical jingle. “I need a minute,” she murmured. Should she feel as though someone had cut off her air? As if her head was three feet above her shoulders?
    Adam watched her for a moment. She didn’t seem quite steady, he realized. And there was an unnaturally high color in her cheeks. Standing, he took her hand and held her still. “Are you ill?”
    “No.” She shook her head. She was never ill, Kirby reminded herself. Just a bit tired—and, perhaps for the first time in her life, completely overwhelmed. She took a deep breath, telling herself she’d be all right in a moment. “I didn’t know you wanted to marry me, Adam.”
    Was that it? he wondered as he ran the back of his hand over her cheek. Shouldn’t she have known? And yet, he remembered, everything had happened so fast. “I love you.” It was simple for him. Love led to marriage and marriage to family. But how could he have forgotten Kirby wasn’t an ordinary woman and was anything but simple? “You accused me of being conventional,” he reminded her, and ran his hands down her hair to her shoulders. “Marriage is a very conventional institution.” And one she might not be ready for, he thought with a quick twinge of panic. He’d have to give her room if he wanted to keep her. But how much room did she need, and how much could he give?
    “I want to spend my life with you.” Adam waited until her gaze had lifted to his again. She looked stunned by his words—a woman like her, Adam thought. Beautiful, sensuous, strong. How was it a woman like Kirby would be surprised to be wanted? Perhaps he’d moved too quickly, and too clumsily. “Any way you choose, Kirby. Maybe I should’ve chosen a better time, a better place, to ask rather than assume.”
    “It’s not that.” Shaky, she lifted a hand to his face. It was so solid, so strong. “I don’t need that.” His face blurred a moment, and, shaking her head, she moved away again until she stood where she’d been posing. “I’ve had marriage proposals before—and a good many less binding requests.” She managed a smile. He wanted her, not just for today, but for the tomorrows, as well. He wanted her just as she was. She felt the tears well up, of love, of gratitude, but blinked them back. When wishes came true it was no time for tears. “This is the one I’ve been waiting for all of my life, I just didn’t expect to be so flustered.”
    Relieved, he started to cross to her. “I’ll take that as a good sign. Still, I wouldn’t mind a simple yes.”

    “I hate to do anything simple.”
    She felt the room lurch and fade, then his hands on her shoulders.
    “Kirby— Good God, there’s gas leaking!” As he stood holding her up, the strong, sweet odor rushed over him. “Get out! Get some air! It must be the heater.” Giving her a shove toward the door, he bent over the antiquated unit.
    She stumbled across the room. The door seemed miles away, so that when she finally reached it she had only the strength to lean against the heavy wood and catch her breath. The air was cleaner there. Gulping it in, Kirby willed herself to reach for the knob. She tugged, but it held firm.
    “Damn it, I told you to get out!” He was already choking on the fumes when he reached her. “The gas is pouring out of that thing!”
    “I can’t open the door!” Furious with herself, Kirby pulled again. Adam pushed her hands away and yanked himself. “Is it jammed?” she murmured, leaning against him. “Cards will see to it.”
    Locked, he realized. From the outside. “Stay here.” After propping her against the door, Adam picked up