The Art of Deception

publicity’s been horrid. They have no money, no reputation. Isn’t that punishment enough?”
    “Melanie tried to kill you. Twice.” Suddenly furious at the calm, even tone, he went to her and spun her around. “Damn it, Kirby, she wanted you dead!”
    “It was she who nearly died.” Her voice was still even, but she took a step back, from him. “The police have to accept my story that the gun went off accidentally, even if others don’t. I could have sent Melly to jail. Wouldn’t I feel avenged watching Harriet suffer?”
    Adam forced back the impatience and stared through the glass. “She’s worried about you.”
    “Harriet?” Kirby shrugged. “There’s no need. When you see her, tell her I’m well.”
    “You can tell her yourself when we get back.”
    “We?” The lightest hint of temper entered her voice. Nothing could have relieved him more. “I’m going to be here for some time yet.”
    “Fine. I’ve nothing better to do.”
    “That wasn’t an invitation.”
    “Harriet already gave me one,” he told her easily. He gave the room another sweeping glance while Kirby smoldered. “The place looks big enough for two.”
    “That’s where you’re wrong, but don’t let me spoil your plans.” She spun on her heel and headed for the stairs. Before she’d gotten five feet, his fingers curled around her arm and held her still. When she whirled, he saw that his gypsy was back.
    “You don’t really think I’d let you leave? Kirby, you disappoint me.”
    “You don’t let me do anything, Adam. Nor do you prevent me from doing anything.”
    “Only when it’s necessary.” While she stood rigid, he put his hands on her shoulders. “You’re going to listen to me this time. And you’re going to start listening in just a minute.”
    He pressed his mouth to hers as he’d needed to for weeks. She didn’t resist. Nor did she respond. He could feel her fighting the need to do both. He could press her, he knew, and she’d give in to him. Then he might never really have her. Slowly their gazes locked; he straightened.
    “You’re nearly through making me suffer,” he murmured. “I’ve paid, Kirby, in every moment I haven’t been with you. Through every night you haven’t been beside me. When are you going to stop punishing me?”
    “I don’t want to punish you.” It was true. She’d already forgiven him. Yet, her confidence, that strong, thin shield she’d always had, had suffered an enormous blow. This time when she stepped back he didn’t try to stop her. “I know we parted badly. Maybe it’d be best if we just admitted we’d both made a mistake and left it at that. I realize you did what you had to do. I’ve always done the same. It’s time I got on with my life and you with yours.”
    He felt a quick jiggle of panic. She was too calm, much too calm. He wanted emotion from her, any kind she’d give. “What sort of life would either of us have without the other?”
    None. But she shook her head. “I said we made a mistake—”
    “And now you’re going to tell me you don’t love me?”
    She looked straight at him and opened her mouth. Weakening, she shifted her gaze to just over his shoulder. “No, I don’t love you, Adam. I’m sorry.”
    She’d nearly cut him off at the knees. If she hadn’t looked away at the last instant, it would’ve been over for him. “I’d’ve thought you could lie better than that.” In one move he closed the distance between them. His arms were around her, firm, secure. The same, she thought. Nothing had changed after all. “I’ve given you two weeks, Kirby. Maybe I should give you more time, but I can’t.” He buried his face in her hair while she squeezed her eyes shut. She’d been wrong, she remembered. She’d been wrong about so many things. Could this be right?
    “Adam, please…”
    “No, no more. I love you.” He drew away, barely resisting the need to shake her. “I love you and you’ll have to get used to it. It isn’t going to change.”
    She curled her hand into a fist before she could stroke his cheek. “I think you’re getting pompous again.”
    “Then you’ll have to get used to that, too. Kirby…” He framed her face with his hands. “How many ways would you like me to apologize?”

    “No.” Shaking her head she moved away again. She should be able to think, she warned herself. She had to think. “I don’t need apologies, Adam.”
    “You wouldn’t,” he murmured. Forgiveness would come as