Grey picked up his briefs lying on the floor and dropped them into the dark green hamper just inside the bathroom. "Why is marriage suddenly so important to you, Mariah?"

"It's always been important." Heavyhearted, she slid off the bed, instinctively knowing that after tonight they would never be the same. How could they be when they both had different visions for their futures?

He blocked her way to her clothes, his five-inch advantage and his dark scowl making him appear imposing. "Marriage wasn't important when you moved in with Dale Simmons."

She cringed at the reminder of her previous catastrophic relationship. "That's why I won't make that mistake again. It's too convenient living with someone. All the luxuries of a marriage without the emotional obligations. I want total commitment, Grey. All or nothing. And we've been together long enough, without living together, to know whether or not a marriage would work." He obviously didn't think one would, but then again, she'd just recently discovered that he didn't have much faith in the institution of marriage.

She attempted to step around him, but he blocked her path again. His intense gaze captured hers. "Did you love him?" he asked abruptly.

She didn't need to ask who he meant. "Yes."

"Did he love you?"

"Yes." At least for a while she'd known Dale loved her.

"The guy fooled around with other women behind your back!" he said, shaking his head incredulously. He grabbed her arms, his grip gentle but firm. "Doesn't that make you think, even for a moment, that love isn't all that it's cracked up to be?"

It had been poor judgment on her part. That, and Dale had strung her along with empty promises she'd been too naive to see through. At thirty-two she'd like to think she was wiser than she'd been at twenty-six.

"That experience has made me cautious about the men I date, but not totally against a lifelong commitment. I want that, Grey, and I want that with you, not the convenience of living with someone then deciding you want something better."

Grey dropped his hands back to his sides, feeling more defeated than he had in his entire life. She was asking for something he didn't have in him to give. He could tell her exactly what she wanted to hear, but if anything, their relationship had always been based on trust and honesty, and he refused to taint it with lies. And there was no way he'd let her believe he had any intentions of getting married. To anyone. Ever.

"I…I can't, Mariah," he whispered.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she held her chin high. "Then I think we need to start seeing other people." She skirted past him.

He turned just in time to see her swipe a tear from her cheek. His stomach twisted into a gigantic knot. He never wanted to hurt her. He couldn't give her what she wanted, but he didn't want to lose her, either, no matter how selfish it seemed.

"I don't want to see anyone else, Mariah," he said, as if that might change her mind about them. About staying. About moving in with him.

Her back to him, she shrugged out of his shirt and slipped on her bra and blouse, then faced him while doing up the buttons. "Neither do I, but I don't want to invest anything more into a relationship that won't go any farther than this. I want a husband, Grey, and children. Do you want children?"

Her question caught him off guard. They'd never discussed kids before, but then he'd had no reason to. He'd always known they'd never be a part of his future, and that was the end of that discussion for him. Cut-and-dried. No compromise.

"That's what I thought." Weary resignation laced her voice. She stepped into her teal skirt and shimmied it up those long, slender legs he'd found so enticing when they'd first met. Once they'd slept together, those limbs had become an endless source of fascination for him.

"You don't want children, do you?" she asked, an odd catch to her voice.

He dragged a hand over his jaw, despising the old, painful childhood memories creeping up on him. Memories he wanted to remain dead and buried. "I'm too old to be a father."

Her gaze captured his. He was skirting the truth, and the shrewd look in her eyes told him she knew it, too. "Too old or too scared?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" he automatically responded, even as he mentally cursed her perception.

She gave a one-shoulder shrug and slipped into her sling-back pumps. "Being a parent is a scary proposition."

Caustic laughter escaped him. "Yeah, well, I'm afraid I didn't have a great role model growing up, therefore parenthood holds little appeal for me."

"I understand," she said softly as she gathered up the underthings she hadn't put on.

She didn't understand, not really, he thought a little desperately. And he didn't know how to explain emotions he hadn't thought about in over twenty years. An unhealthy bitterness toward a father who'd taken out his grudges on a little boy he'd resented from the start. And resentment toward a mother who'd been too afraid to risk her husband's contempt to protect her child from the emotional and verbal degradation Aaron Nichols had dished out.

No, Mariah would never understand, not when she'd been raised in a healthy atmosphere with traditional, honest values. Hell, he wouldn't know honorable family morals if they slapped him in the face.

A crushing pressure banded his chest. All his adult life he'd worked hard, his drive and ambition an asset to the small security company he'd built from scratch into a large corporation. He'd learned to wield control, manipulate situations to his advantage and depend on no one but himself. There was nothing he wanted that he hadn't been able to acquire.

Except now, with Mariah. He found it ironic that the one thing he wanted most he couldn't purchase with the millions his business turned over in a year's time. Mariah, it seemed, was priceless.

She turned to him, her eyes a misty blue. "I think it's best if we just end things now."

He didn't move, though his hands balled into tight fists at his sides. "Just like that, it's over?"

"We want different things from a relationship. That's obvious now. There's no sense in going any further." She took a shaky breath. "Goodbye, Grey."

He watched her walk out of his bedroom and his life, listening to the front door click behind her. He sank back onto the bed, an empty, bleak feeling consuming him. He'd spent the majority of his life alone, but he'd never felt so desolate until that very moment.


"Mariah, how long do you intend to mope around?"

Mariah glanced up from the evening news to her sister, Jade, who stood next to the couch with her hands on her skinny hips. She wore a tight leopard-skin top that hugged her curves and black spandex pants that disappeared into a pair of black leather boots. Her short golden brown hair was teased into a full style and today, thanks to the modern inventions of colored contact lenses, her eyes were a deep violet hue.

"I don't mope," Mariah mumbled. Tucking her legs under her on the couch, she wrapped her old chenille robe around her and reached for the bowl of frozen grapes on the end table. She popped one into her mouth and chewed.

"Correction. You never used to, until a week ago." Jade waved a hand in the air, and the stack of bangle bracelets on her arm tinkled with the gesture. "God, Mariah, you won't even let me erase Grey's answering machine messages because you want to hear his voice. If you haven't noticed, we've run out of tape."

Mariah chewed on another grape. "I'll buy a new one if you'll just leave me alone."

"No way. Somebody's gotta pull you out of this blue funk you're in. Just look at you," she said, shaking her head in disgust. "You're a mess. You only leave the condo to go to work, and even then you just stare off into space. And for goodness' sake, you can't live on frozen grapes alone."

She bit into another icy piece of fruit. "Why not?"

Jade gave an exasperated sigh. "I've never seen you like this before. Not even after you and Dale split up."

Her breakup with Dale had been inevitable, she'd seen that toward the end of their relationship. But with Grey the end had come so suddenly, without any warning. She loved him more than any man she'd ever had a relationship with, but in the end that hadn't been enough-for either of them. She stuffed three more grapes into her mouth.

"Riah," Jade said gently as she sat beside her sister, "even Mom and Dad are concerned about you. Especially Dad. You know how he gets when someone hurts one of his little girls. He was ready to pick up one of his shotguns and pay Grey a visit."

Mariah's head jerked up. "Tell me you're joking."

Jade shrugged, a smile tipping her mouth. "He was just feeling a little protective. He really liked Grey. We all did, and I think he had his hopes set on a wedding. And a grandchild."

Mariah groaned at her father's relentless pursuit to see his daughters married. And his continual reminder that they hadn't managed to give him any grandchildren to bounce on his knee before his arthritis got too bad. "That's not going to happen anytime soon, at least not with Grey. 'Wedding' and 'children' aren't in his vocabulary."

"If that's the case, it's time to move on to new and better adventures."

She shuddered at the thought of dating again, of trying to find someone who shared the same interests and had the same goals. Someone caring, confident, yet sensitive when it counted. Sexy didn't hurt, either, with sable hair and drown-in-them-forever brown eyes. Too late, she realized, she'd just described Grey.

"I don't want to move on," she said woefully.

Compassion softened Jade's expression. "Riah, no man is worth all this self-destruction. Take it from me. I know firsthand."