"Are you kidding, Lily? Can you honestly see me as anyone's instructor?"

"Well… yes. Actually, I can." When he stared at her as if she were certifiable, she stroked the white knuckles beneath her fingers. "Zach, isn't that already part of what you do now? I mean, I know it's much more seat-of-the-pants and dangerous than any classroom situation could ever be. But you said your men are mostly in their late teens and early twenties—I would think dealing with that age group day in and day out must be an ongoing teaching process. I can't honestly envision you lecturing from behind a podium. But if you're talking about teaching practical application of the things they've learned in a class in more reality-based settings, then I can definitely see you doing that."

He looked startled. But he also looked thoughtful, and to her satisfaction his knuckles stopped displaying so much bone as his fingers relaxed beneath her hand.

He sat back in his chair and simply stared at her for a moment. Then he turned his hand beneath hers and enfolded her fingers in his warm grasp. Looking down, he seemed fascinated by the sight of his thumb smoothing over the back of her hand. "I think you're the one who'd make a good teacher," he said to the skin beneath his rough-tipped fingers. "I don't think it's escaped anyone's attention the way you transformed Jessica."

It was Lily's turn to be startled. "Oh, no. Really. I mean, we talked, of course, but Jess did all the work herself."

"Thanks to some major guidance and motivation from you." His pale, charcoal-rimmed eyes rose to pin her in place. "I don't think I've ever met anyone as patient or nice as you are."

" Oh . Oh, Zach." Her insides melted. She'd known since first realizing the depth of her feelings for him that sooner or later she'd slip and give them away. But she had always suspected it would be the mind-frying sex they shared that would undermine her defenses. Never once had she dreamed that hearing him call her nice while they were both fully clothed might be the agent to bring all her walls tumbling down. Yet her entire body yearned toward him as she felt every safeguard she'd ever placed on her heart crumble to dust. She squeezed the fingers wrapped around hers. "Oh, gawd, Zach. I am so in love with you."

His entire body stilled. "Yeah?" The tilt of his mouth looked pleasantly amused, but his eyes were suddenly guarded. "Well, if a little compliment like that floats your boat, I can hardly wait to see what kind of reaction dessert gets." His hand slid out from under hers, and he leaned back in his chair. Way back.

For about two seconds she was tempted to just let it go. She knew that's what he wanted—to pretend the elephant hadn't entered the room with them. But when she looked from her now-empty hand curled limply in the middle of the linen tablecloth to the man leaning as far away from her as he could get and still remain at the same table, she felt something cool trickle through the warm fuzzies she'd been immersed in all evening. And she knew she couldn't let it go—not after having just bared her soul. "Okay," she said slowly. "Not exactly the reaction I'd hoped for."

For a moment he looked downright panicked, but then he straightened, his face wiped free of all emotion. "What do you want me to say, Lily—that I love you, too; let's start looking for a rose-covered cottage?"

She kept her expression every bit as neutral as his while the cool trickle turned to an icy torrent. "Yes. I can't think of anything I'd rather hear."

"I'm sorry, but I can't. I don't do love."

Oh boy , did she disagree, but she merely said, "You do a first-class imitation of it, then."

"It's a pipedream, Lily—a concept invented by greeting card companies. There's lust, and like, and excitement, and that's no doubt what you feel too." Crossing his arms over his chest, he gave her an authoritative look. "Trust me. You're not in love with me."

Unfortunately, she was. But she didn't particularly like him right this minute. "And what makes you such an authority on how I feel?"

"Common sense." His arms dropped away from his chest and he leaned forward earnestly. "Look, you and I are really… compatible… in some ways. But in the long run we're interested in different things."

"That's funny, because despite the obvious differences between us, I could have sworn we had more in common than not. So what is it that interests me that scares you so much?"

"Opening the restaurant you've been saving a lifetime to buy, for starters. And it doesn't scare me. I'm just pointing out that you're ready to settle down in one place—and I'm in an occupation that has me constantly on the move."

"Yes, for two more years. That's nothing compared to how long I've already waited." But nausea roiled in her stomach at the look on his face. "I can see, though, that the last thing you want to hear is that I'm willing to postpone opening my place until you're out of the service." A chill raised the flesh on her arms and she rubbed her hands up and down them. "Gawd, this is almost funny. Not that long ago, I would have thought following a soldier around the country was the last thing I'd be willing to do too. But then I went and fell in love with you. I think we could have a phenomenal future together. You obviously don't feel the same." He didn't deny it, and she died just a little. "You said we're really compatible in some ways. You want to define what those are?"

He merely looked at her and the sickness increased. " Sexually" ? That's all I mean to you? Someone to fuck?"

He jerked. "Jesus, Lily. Don't talk like that."

A crack of bitter laughter escaped her. "Oh. That's beautiful. You virtually tell me it's all you want from me, but I shouldn't say the word?"

"That's not what I meant. I've just never heard you swear." He shook his head impatiently. "But that's not important. You're not just someone to fuck—we're friends, you and I."

"But only as long as we're in the sack, apparently. Or—what? Were you thinking that when you've had your fill of me sexually, we oughtta get together every now and then for a beer?" Her voice wobbled embarrassingly on the last word and, feeling tears rising perilously near the surface, she shoved back from the table and snatched up her purse. "Excuse me. I've got to use the restroom."

He was hot on her heels when she pushed open the door of the ladies' room a moment later, but she turned with her hand on the knob to stare up at him. "Do you mind?" she asked. "If you're truly my friend , you'll give me a moment of privacy."

Dark brows gathering like thunderclouds over his nose, he stared down at her as if he had X-ray vision that would get to the truth of her emotions. But she refused him access to her thoughts, and with a sound of frustration he turned on his heel and stalked back to the hotel dining room.

She rushed to the restroom sink. Her dinner stayed down, but barely, and every time she thought of the way he'd said they were friends when he obviously believed their only real compatibility was in bed, the gorge rose anew. Standing with her hands braced on the counter-top, and her head hanging low, she drew deep, steadying breaths and fought it down.

Finally, she raised her head and looked at her reflection in the mirror. When they'd arrived here this evening, she'd felt treasured and pretty. Now she thought she looked like a woman men only wanted for one thing, and she turned away from the sight. How on earth had she gone from Princess of the Night to Queen Slut in the space of so few heartbeats?

When she felt her composure was about as good as it was going to get, she walked out of the restroom and looked toward the dining room. Then she turned in the opposite direction and headed for the resort's front door.

The air was soft when she stepped outside and, had she not been wearing shoes so impractical as to make the notion laughable, she might have been tempted simply to start walking back to the Beaumonts'. Alternately, she wished for a moment, as she stared out over the parking lot, that her skills ran to hot-wiring cars. It would serve Zach right if she took the Jeep and left him high and dry.

But, no. Vindictiveness was all very warming to contemplate, but more often than not it only ended up biting the butt of the person who harbored it. Besides, running away was immature and ultimately wouldn't solve a darn thing. So she'd take a loop or two around the hotel to get her emotions in check. Then she might as well resign herself to heading back inside to face Zach like an adult.

Sometimes, though, being a grown-up bit.

She picked her way down the steps and once on the walkway, headed for the point side of the venerable old resort grounds. Tears kept rising to blur her vision, and between those, her skyscraper heels, and the occasional pine cone out to trip her, she had to be extra vigilant about where she placed her feet. The sun had gone below the trees, and as she rounded a curve, the twilit path became a stretch of deep shadow. She paused for a second to let her eyes adjust.

When she heard footsteps behind her, her first thought was that it must be Zach. Before she could decide whether she hoped for or feared the possibility, however, someone grabbed her by the arm, and she didn't need to see the person's face to know it wasn't him. Instinctively, she tried to pull away, but she stilled when something hard was jammed into the small of her back.

"I have a gun," a masculine voice said in her ear. "Make one peep, and I'll shoot you where you stand."

Well, that went just fucking swell. Zach sat rigidly upright in his chair, draining his beer, then reached for his coffee and knocked that back too while he waited for Lily to return. Hard to believe you're actually supposed to be pretty good at negotiating your way out of tough situations . The dinner he'd just consumed sat like gravel in his stomach.