“All right, all right. She's my god-dog. But I'm coming to Paris this weekend to see you both.”

“I won't let you in,” she said firmly.

“Why not? What else do you have to do, sit in a dark house by yourself and work yourself to death? For God's sake, Sasha, let yourself live for once. You deserve it. So do I.”

“No, you don't, and neither do I, if we're going to make fools of ourselves, or of me. You're just indulging yourself, and I won't let you do that at my expense.” She meant it. The stakes were just too high for her. Only Liam had nothing to lose, except his heart.

“That's not fair,” he said, sounding hurt.

“Yes, it is. It's honest. I'm nearly ten years older than you, and you want to behave any way you want. You don't want to be respectable and conservative. You have no intention of adapting to my life. You want to play at this, have some fun, and play wacky artist. If you do that in my life, Liam, you're going to turn my whole world upside down, and I won't let you do it.”

“I behaved perfectly at Harry's Bar,” he said, sounding miffed, and then added grudgingly, “except for the shirt and socks. If I knew it was so important to you, I'd have bought a new shirt and some socks, if that's what matters to you, for chrissake.” He was beginning to shout.

“It's not about the shirt and socks. It's about who you are and the way you want to live. You keep telling me no one can control you, no one can tell you what to do. You want to be a free spirit, Liam, and you have every right to do that. You just can't do that in my life. You and I both know that when the spirit moves you, you want to do whatever comes into your head. You think it's funny. Well, I don't. And like it or not, I'm too goddamn old for you. You're my son's best friend, for God's sake. He's twenty-five years old. I'm forty-eight.” His behavior and the rules he set for himself were far more appropriate in her son's world than hers, and Liam liked it that way. In the name of art and independence, he had resisted growing up all his life.

“I'm thirty-nine,” Liam said plaintively. “I'm closer to your age than his.”

“But you don't want to act like it. That's the problem. You want to pretend you're twenty-five. If I wanted another child, I'd adopt one. That's not the relationship I want with you.” She had raised her voice, too, in answer to his.

“What relationship do you want with me? I thought we worked things out just fine last Friday. And we didn't do badly this weekend, either. I don't want to just go to bed with you. I like talking to you, too.”

“So do I. But you're a luxury I can't afford.”

“You are surely and without a doubt the most stubborn woman I know. I'll be there on Friday, whether you like it or not. We can argue about it this weekend.”

“I don't want to see you,” she said, feeling panicked. Her feelings for him made her feel out of control.

“Well, I want to see you. One more time at least, to discuss this face-to-face. I can't talk about things like this on the phone.”

“There's nothing to discuss. This is impossible, Liam. We have to accept that. We have no other choice.”

“You're the one who's making it impossible. It's only impossible if you want it to be.” He sounded frustrated beyond words.

“Then let's just say I do.”

“This is the dumbest thing I ever heard.”

“Doing the right thing feels that way sometimes. But in this case, that's what we're going to do.” She didn't say that if he had done the right thing with Becky, he would still have his wife and kids with him. Instead, he had indulged himself. And he was trying to do that again, with her.

“I'll call you tomorrow,” he said, sounding depressed. If anything, she had gotten firmer in her resolve not to get involved with him, despite the dog, which was a lovely gift, but still didn't convince her that he was the man for her.

“Don't call me, unless it's about gallery business. I don't want to discuss this with you again. We just go around and around, and drive each other crazy.” But he drove her even more so when she was near him. She had never been as physically attracted to any man in her life. It was hard for her to understand and even harder still to resist.

“I'll call you this week,” he said, but didn't, which Sasha felt was a relief. It pained her to do it, but she believed she had finally persuaded him to let it go. No matter how much she wanted to be with him again, she knew she couldn't.

The one consolation in her life that week was the joy of the puppy Liam had sent her. Socks was adorable, and despite frequent accidents on her carpets, Sasha was enchanted with her. It had been the best gift he could give her. The next best gift was leaving her alone, which he did.

The weather was awful in Paris again that weekend, gray wintry days that seemed relentless. Foggy mornings, rainy nights, and depressing afternoons with bitter winds that chilled you to the bone. She worked late on Friday, went to bed early, and was at her desk at the gallery by nine the next morning, with the dog. Everyone was in love with Socks, even Bernard.

Sasha worked in the gallery all day Saturday, and she was sitting alone in her house with the puppy on Saturday night. Liam hadn't called her since Monday, and in some ways, she was relieved. In others, she was sad. She was crazy about him, but in every way that mattered, he was forbidden fruit. A fruit she was determined not to touch or eat, whatever it cost her. He was a sacrifice she had to make.

It was nine o'clock on Saturday night when her doorbell rang. It wasn't the outer door, but the one to her house. Sasha assumed it was the guardian, since she hadn't heard the bell ring on the big bronze outer door. She was carrying the puppy and wearing her nightgown when she opened it. She expected to look into the ancient face of Madame Barboutier, and instead found herself looking up at Liam. He had shown up after all.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, unhappy to see him. Her heart was pounding and her knees felt weak. But there was no sign of it on her face, and she offered him no warm welcome. She had told him not to come.

“I came to see my god-dog.” Sasha was holding her, and he looked down at Socks and smiled. “She looks good.” So did he. Sasha didn't. She looked tired and upset, and she was. She had been suffering over him all week. Keeping up her resolve about him had been anything but easy. And now there he was, on her doorstep, looking more beautiful than ever. He was everything she wanted, and couldn't allow herself to have. She was putting up all the resistance she could.

“I asked you not to come here,” she said coldly, on the verge of tears.

“I want to talk to you, Sasha,” he said, looking serious. She could see in his eyes that he was unhappy, too. “Why don't we just do this for a while, and see what happens? Maybe it won't be a big deal after all.”

“And if it is? Then what? My kids go nuts. My artists think I'm a fruitcake. And we become the talk of Paris and New York.” She didn't paint a pretty picture, but what she described could easily happen and be true. And he knew it, too.

“Do you ever think about anything but disaster or what other people think?” he asked, standing there, still holding his bag. “What if it actually turned out okay? What if people don't give a damn what we do? What if your artists could care less, and your kids want you to be happy, even if that means being with a younger guy? This could turn out to be no big deal.”

“Until you find some girl your age, or younger, and fall in love with her. I don't want to go through that, either.”

“What if I die, or you do? What if we're struck by lightning one night when we're making love? What about cholera, diphtheria, measles? What if we get nuked in a world war?”

“I'd rather get nuked than make a fool of myself with you. I just don't want to go there, Liam. I'd rather be alone.”

“Don't be so silly. I've been in love twice in my life, once with Beth, which lasted for twenty years, and now with you. I've never told anyone I loved them, except the two of you.”

“You just want me because you can't have me,” Sasha said miserably. She was shivering in the cold and so was the dog.

“Can I at least come in for a minute? I've been driving for hours. They canceled my flight, so I took the Chunnel.” She stepped aside, wishing she had the courage not to let him in, but she didn't. As it had been since she had met him, she didn't have the strength to resist, as he walked slowly into her living room. All the lights were out and the room was cold. She was planning to go to bed with the dog. “All right, I give up. Let me spend the night. I won't touch you. I'll leave tomorrow before you get up. I'm too tired to drive back tonight.” She looked at him for a long moment, and then nodded. He could sleep in Xavier's room again. She was going to lock her bedroom door. More to keep herself in than him out.

“Do you want something to eat?” she asked politely, setting the dog down.

“Do you have any ice cream?”

“I think so. We bought a lot last week, and I didn't eat it.”

“You should. It would do you good.” He thought she was too thin. She looked like she had lost more weight that week—he hoped it was from her agony over him.

He followed her into the kitchen, with Socks right behind them. She peed on the kitchen floor, and Liam cleaned it up, while Sasha served him chocolate and coffee ice cream in a giant bowl.

“Do you want anything else?” He shook his head, sat down at the kitchen table, and said nothing. There was nothing much left for either of them to say. They had said it all. She had never been through anything as upsetting as this, other than her husband's death sixteen months before. Sasha sat quietly while he ate. And when he was finished, she stood up. “I'm going to bed. You can sit in the living room if you want. You know where Xavier's room is.”