"I'd be a fool to turn down your offer, wouldn't I?" His arms tightened around her and his cheek pressed against her temple. "Lord, I'm hurting, Serena. You know, old Frank was a little like me. I guess that was why I grew to love him so damn much. We were both wanderers and had been through the mill. We both had our scars."

Serena could feel a moistness on her temple and she instinctively tightened her arms about him.

"There were times when I was lonely or things weren't going right but he was always there. He was happy and affectionate and-" His voice broke. "-and loving."

"You told me that once," Serena said huskily. "You said he had toughened up, but kept the loving."

"Yes." He was silent a moment, just holding her. Then his arms dropped away from her and he stepped back. He reached into his back pocket and drew out his handkerchief. "I didn't mean to drown you." He dabbed at her temple, dampened by his tears, and then unashamedly wiped his own eyes. "But Frank deserved tears." He stuffed the handkerchief back into his pocket. "Thank you."

"For what?" She smiled at him. "I didn't even lend you my shirt or make you an omelet. We're still not even."

"This is no contest," Gideon said gravely. "Friendship makes no comparisons. It's just giving and taking. Thank you for giving."

"Thank you for taking. It was good to be needed. I don't think anyone has ever needed me before." She made a face. "Except Dane, and the only help he ever needs is rescue."

"No one?" Gideon asked. "Not even your husband?"

Her expression was suddenly shuttered. "No, Antonio never needed me." She stepped back. "I think it's time I went to my room. Why don't you go to bed, too?"

"Another invitation?" He held up his hand, a faint smile touching his lips. "No, I know comfort only extends so far and no further. I was joking." He wearily rubbed the back of his neck. "I think I will go to bed. One way and another, it's been a hell of a day."

"You could have eliminated one source of strain, if you hadn't practically kidnapped me," she said lightly. She was actually teasing about his treatment of her, she realized with astonishment. At some time on this patio tonight, anger and resentment had fled, and she wasn't sure she could ever summon them again to use against Gideon Brandt. She wasn't sure she even wanted to summon them. Being at peace with Gideon was filling her with a golden tranquility and warmth.

"I did what I had to do." His gaze was running over her. "I like that silvery robe. It makes you look like a moon maiden."

She laughed. "I thought moon maidens were probably made of green cheese too."

He tilted his head as if he were listening to music. "Lord, that's pretty. I've never heard you laugh before. I'm going to have to work on giving you more to laugh about." He laced his fingers through hers and started across the patio toward the front door. "Maybe I could hire a resident clown, or send for a joke book or-" He broke off. "But I'll need time to do all that." He gazed intently at her. "Am I going to get that time, Serena? Am I going to get my week?"

How could she refuse a man who would postpone initiating a plan he'd held for ten years to comfort a dying animal? A strong man who was not ashamed to show either tears or need. How was it possible to refuse Gideon Brandt?

"I'm very much afraid you are," she said huskily. "It's a mistake, but I'll give you your week. I don't know why. You've been completely autocratic and-"

"It's no mistake." A radiant smile lit his face. "I'll make sure it's the best decision you've ever made." His hand tightened around her own. "Damn, I'm glad."

She had made him happy. The knowledge sent a heady burst of exhilaration through her. He had been sad and she had given him happiness. What difference did a week make? Dane was completely happy where he was, and she had no commitments for the next few weeks. She owed Gideon far more for his past support than he had asked of her. "I'm not promising you anything more than friendship. I still think this is crazy and-"

"Hush, don't spoil it." He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the palm lingeringly. She felt a warm tingle begin to spread from her palm into her veins and then into every part of her body. "Let me be happy."

"All right." Her voice was breathless. The night was suddenly crackling with the same electricity that had charged the dining room earlier in the evening. She could feel her heart start to pound and the temperature seemed ten degrees warmer than it had only a moment ago.

His clasp tightened around her wrist, and she knew he had felt her betraying leap of response. "For me?" he murmured. "Let's see what else I can…" His tongue gently stroked her palm, his thumb on her wrist monitoring her reaction. "You like that?"

She felt as if she had been jolted by lightning.

The lightest of intimacies, and yet she was trembling. "I think I'd better go upstairs now."

"In a minute." He moved his lips to the delicate blue veins of her wrist. His tongue moved lazily, teasingly on her flesh. "I can feel your heartbeat going crazy. You're very easy to arouse, love. I'm so lucky." He nipped her wrist with his teeth and she felt a jolt of heat flood her. "We're going to be so good together."

She hadn't expected this, she thought wildly. One moment she was only wanting to comfort, and the next she was experiencing a sensual pull stronger than any she had ever known before. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

"No, don't start backpedaling. You made me a promise." He was smiling again, and warmth melted the panic starting to rise within her. "And I'm holding you to it. We'll leave for Santa Isabella tomorrow morning."

"Santa Isabella? I thought we were going to stay here."

He shook his head. "Santa Isbella is as much of a home as I've ever had. I want you to get to know it." His lips twisted. "Besides, the atmosphere in Castellano right now isn't conducive to relaxation and I want you mellow. Very mellow." He tugged at a lock of her hair. "I want to hear you laugh again." He bent quickly and placed a sun-warm kiss on her lips and then straightened. "That wasn't so bad, was it? I'll guarantee we'll get better at it," He took her hand again and they covered the remaining yards to the front door in silence.

It was only when they were going up the stairs that he spoke again. "You're barefoot. I didn't notice on the patio." He grinned. "Do you have a violent aversion to wearing shoes? Not that I object, you understand. You have very pretty feet and I like to look at them."

"I forgot about them. I saw you on the patio and-"

"You wanted to help me," he finished softly, his eyes very warm. "So you scurried to the rescue, bare feet and all."

There had been a moment on the patio when she would have walked barefoot on hot coals, if it could have taken away a portion of Gideon's pain. "As I said, I'm new at having someone need me. I reacted without thinking."

"Instinct," he said thoughtfully. "You came to me instinctively. Think about that tonight. You might learn something about yourself and about us, too, perhaps. I believe in instinct." They had reached the top of the stairs and he paused to look down at her. "Instinct made me know you belonged to me that night." He touched her cheek with a fingertip. "Sleep well. I'll see you in the morning, love."

She hesitated. "Will you be all right?"

He nodded, then smiled. "You could leave your door ajar in case I get ambushed. I like the idea of your being available to hold me like you did out there by the fountain."

"I don't think you'll need me. I'm not as experienced as you at shooting bushwhackers out of the saddle." She turned away. "Goodnight."

She could feel his gaze on her back as she walked quickly down the hall and opened the door to her room. A moment later she was in bed, her head awhirl with a wild confusion of thoughts. Why had she committed herself? It was crazy. She was crazy. She had been swayed like a tree in the wind by sympathy, remembrance, and the sensuality he had evoked so effortlessly. She knew he'd had no intention of arousing her to this extent. He had just been himself, Gideon, and that had been enough. Even now, lying here in an emotional turmoil she was conscious of a nagging anxiety. Was he lying in his room across the hall unhappy and lonely again? Surely he had been joking about the possibility that he might need her to help him get through this time. Still, he hadn't closed his door on her, when there had been a chance she might need him.

She lay there for many minutes staring into the darkness, trying to make a decision. Then she abandoned all reasoning as totally useless. She had half known what she was going to do from the beginning anyway. Maybe Gideon was right, and following instincts was best.

She slipped out of bed and ran across the room. She opened the door and left it ajar in unspoken welcome, a gesture of friendship and support. Then she ran back across the room, jumped into bed, and pulled up the covers. It was done, and she felt immeasurably better. She closed her eyes and was asleep a short time later.

Gideon had left his own door open and was lying in bed, waiting. It was only a chance. It was really too soon for her to offer him that kind of trust, but maybe…

Then he heard the soft click of Serena's door opening and the slight rustle of the mattress as she returned to bed.

Gideon smiled into the darkness, turned over on his side, and shut his eyes. There was still a faint smile on his lips when he, too, fell deeply asleep.

"Somehow, I didn't expect a coffee plantation," Serena said as the driver of the limousine negotiated the gravel road leading to the large stone house on the top of the hill. "Ross said your largest hotel property was here on Santa Isabella and I guess I thought you'd live near your base of operations."