“Do you know where the neurosurgical area is?” She nodded, feeling childlike and stupid at first, and then shyly smiled at him.

“Yes, it's down this hall.” She pointed in the direction she had come, and he smiled, but only with his mouth, not with his eyes. There was something desperately sad about the man, as though he had just lost the one thing he cared about, and he had, or almost.

But Tana found herself wondering why he was there. He looked about fifty years old, although he seemed youthful for his age and he was certainly the most striking man she had ever seen. The dark hair peppered with gray made him look even more handsome as he walked swiftly past her and down the hall, and she followed slowly back the way she had come, and saw him turn left in the direction of the nurse' station that they were all so dependent on. Her thoughts turned back to Harry then, and she realized that she had better get back. She hadn't been gone long, but he might have woken up, and there were a lot of things she wanted to say to him, things she had thought about all night, ideas that she had about what they could do now. She had meant what she'd said, she wasn't going to just let him lie on his ass. He had his whole life ahead of him. Two of the nurses smiled at her as she walked past where they stood, and she walked on tiptoe into Harry's room. The room was still dim, and the sun was going down outside anyway, and she instantly saw that Harry was awake. He looked groggy, but he recognized her, and he didn't smile. Their eyes met and held, and she felt suddenly strange as she entered the room, as though something was wrong, something more than had been wrong before, as though that could even be. Her eyes swept the room as though searching for a clue, and she found him standing there, in a corner, looking grim, the handsome man with the gray hair, in the dark blue suit, and she almost jumped. It had never occurred to her … and now suddenly she knew … Harrison Winslow III … Harry's father … he had finally come.

“Hi, Tan.” Harry looked unhappy and uncomfortable. It was easier before his father had come. Now he had to deal with him, and his grief too. Tana was so much easier to have around, she always understood how he felt. His father never had.

“How do you feel?” For an instant, they both ignored the older man, as though deriving strength from each other first. Tana didn't even know what to say to him.

“I'm okay.” But he looked a lot less than that, and then he looked from her to the well-dressed man. “Father, this is Tana Roberts, my friend.” The elder Wins-low said very little, but he held out his hand. He almost looked at her as though she were an intrusion. He wanted the details of how Harry had gotten there. He had reached London from South Africa the day before, had gotten the telegrams that were waiting for him, and had flown to San Francisco at once, but he hadn't realized until he arrived what the full implications were. He was still reeling from the shock. Harry had just told him that he would be confined to a wheelchair for life, before Tana walked into the room. He hadn't wasted much time in telling him, and he hadn't been gentle or kind. But he didn't have to be, as far as he was concerned. They were his legs, and if they weren't going to work anymore, that was his problem, no one else's, and he could talk about it any way he wanted to. And he wasn't mincing words just then. “Tan, this is my father, Harrison Winslow,” a sarcastic tone came into his voice, “the Third.” Nothing between them had changed. Not even now. And his father looked chagrined.

“Would you like to be alone?” Tana's eyes went back and forth between the two men and it was easy to read that Harry would not, and his father would prefer that they were. “I'll go get a cup of tea.” She glanced at his father with a cautious glance. “Would you like some, too?”

He hesitated, and then nodded his head. “Yes, thanks. Very much.” He smiled, and it was impossible not to notice how devastatingly handsome he was, even here, in a hospital, in his son's room, listening to bad news. There was an incredible depth to the blue eyes, a strength about the chiselled jaw line, something both gentle and decisive about his hands. It was difficult to see him as the villain Harry had described, but she had to take Harry's word for it. Yet sudden doubts began to come to mind, as she took her time going to the cafeteria to get their tea. She returned in slightly less than half an hour, wondering if she should leave and come back the following day, or later that night. She had all that studying to do anyway, but there was a dogged look in Harry's eyes when she returned, as though he wanted to be rescued from his father, and the nurse saw it too when she came in, and not knowing what was causing Harry's distress, or who, in a little while she asked them both to leave. Tana bent to kiss Harry goodbye and he whispered in her ear.

“Come back tonight … if you can.…”

“Okay.” She kissed his cheek, and made a mental note to call the nurses first. But it was Christmas Eve, after all, and she thought maybe he didn't want to be alone. She wondered too if he and his father had just had an argument. His father glanced back over his shoulder at him, sighed unhappily as they left the room, and walked down the hall. His head was bowed, as he stared at his highly polished shoes, and Tana was afraid to say anything. And she felt like a total slob in her scuffed loafers and jeans, but she hadn't expected to meet anyone there, least of all the legendary Harrison Winslow III. She was even more startled when he suddenly turned to her.

“How does he seem to you?”

Tana took a sharp breath. “I don't know yet … it's too soon … I think he's still in shock.” Harrison Winslow nodded. So was he. He had spoken to the doctor before coming upstairs, and there was absolutely nothing they could do. Harry's spinal cord had been so badly damaged, the neurosurgeon had explained, that he would never walk again. They had made some repairs, and there would be more surgery in the next six months, and there were some things about which he was very pleased. They had told Harry as much, but it was too soon for it all to have set in. The best news of all was that he would be able to make love, with some instruction, but that part of his nervous system still functioned, to a degree, and although he wouldn't have complete feeling or total control, he still had a considerable amount of sensation there. “He could even have a family,” the doctor told his father as he stared, but there were other things that he would never do, like walk or dance, or run or ski … tears filled the father's eyes as he thought of it, and then he remembered the girl walking along at his side. She was pretty, he had noticed her when he first saw her walking down the hall, and had been struck by the lovely face, the big green eyes, the graceful way she moved, and had been surprised to see her walk into Harry's room.

“I take it you and Harry are close friends?” It was odd, Harry had never mentioned the girl to him, but Harry never mentioned anything to him anyway.

“We are. We've been friends for four years.”

He decided not to beat around the bush as they stood in the lobby of Letterman hospital. But he wanted to know what he was up against, and maybe this was the time to find out. Just how involved was Harry with this girl, another casual affair, a hidden love, maybe even hidden wife? He had Harry's financial affairs to think of, too, even if the boy wasn't sophisticated enough yet to protect himself. “Axe you in love with him?” His eyes bore into hers and she was momentarily stunned.

“I … no … I … that is,” she wasn't sure why he had asked, “I love him very much … but we … I'm not ‘involved with him’ physically, if that's what you mean.” She flushed to the roots of her hair to be explaining that to him and he smiled apologetically.

“I'm sorry to even ask you a thing like that, but if you know Harry well, you know how he Is. I never know what the hell is going on and I assume that one of these days I'll arrive and find out that he has a wife and three kids.” Tana laughed. It was unlikely but not impossible. More likely three mistresses. And she suddenly realized that she was finding it difficult to dislike him as much as Harry would want her to, in fact, she wasn't sure she disliked him at all.

He was obviously powerful, and not afraid to ask what he wanted to know. He looked her over now, glanced at his watch, and at the limousine waiting at the curb outside for him. “Would you come to have a cup of coffee with me somewhere? At my hotel perhaps? I'm staying at the Stanford Court, but I could have the driver take you back to wherever you like afterwards. Does that sound all right?” Actually, it sounded faintly traitorous to her, but she didn't know what to say to him. The poor man had been through a lot, too, and he had come an awfully long way.

“I … I really should get back … I have an awful lot of studying to do.…” She blushed and he looked hurt, and suddenly she was sorry for him. As elegant and dashing as he was, there was at the same time something vulnerable about him. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound rude. It's just…”

“I know.” He looked at her with a rueful smile that melted her heart. “He's told you what a bastard I am. But it's Christmas Eve, you know. It might do us both good to go and talk for a while. I've had a hell of a shock, and you must have too.” She nodded sadly and followed him to the car. The driver opened the door and she got in, and Harrison Winslow sat next to her on the gray velvet seat. He looked pensive as the city slid by and it seemed moments later when they reached Nob Hill, and drove down the east face of it, turning sharply into the courtyard of the Stanford Court. “Harry and I have had a rough time of it over the years. Somehow we never managed to hit it off.…” He almost seemed to be talking to himself as she watched his face. He didn't look as ruthless as Harry had described. In fact, he didn't look ruthless at all. He looked lonely and sad, and he seemed very much alone. Harrison looked pointedly at Tana then. “You're a beautiful girl … inside as well, I suspect. Harry is lucky to have you as a friend.”