“I love this!” she said excitedly, as he beamed at her. And he couldn't wait to show her his palace. He thought Marrakech was the most romantic place he'd ever been, and Arabella agreed. In spite of her travels in India, she loved this even more. Arabella came to life in exotic places in ways Blake had never seen her before.

They drove through the gigantic palm trees bordering the driveway, as they approached the peach-colored stucco of La Mamounia Hotel. Arabella had heard about it for years, and had always wanted to come here, and doing so with Blake was the best of all possible worlds. Men in white Moroccan outfits with red sashes greeted them, as Arabella noticed the carved wood and mosaic designs outside the hotel, and the manager appeared. Blake had already stayed there several times since buying the ancient palace, and had reserved one of the hotel's three luxurious private villas, which he was keeping until the remodeling and decoration would be complete.

Just to show Arabella, they walked into the main lobby where they stood on white marble floors, bordered in black marble, beneath a huge elaborate chandelier. They had entered the lobby through multicolored stained-glass doors, in red, yellow, and blue, as a bevy of men in white pajamas, gray vests, and red hats surrounded them and greeted Arabella and Blake. There were five luxurious restaurants and five bars for the guests' convenience, Turkish baths, and every possible amenity. And when the manager took them to Blake's private villa, a staff of servants were waiting for them there. The villa had three bedrooms, a living room, a dining area, a small kitchen for their use, and a separate full kitchen for a chef to prepare their meals, if they didn't wish to dine in the city or any of the hotel's restaurants. They had their own entrance, garden, and Jacuzzi, so if they didn't want to see anyone during their stay there, that was possible too. But Arabella was anxious to see the city with him. Blake had asked his driver to wait for them, and he and Arabella wanted to go out and explore, after they had a quiet meal in their garden. It was magical and exotic just being there.

They both showered and changed, and ate a light meal at the table in the garden, and then went out together hand in hand. They walked through the main square, kept their distance from the snake charmers, and took a carriage ride around the ramparts of the city. It was everything Arabella hoped it would be, and after sitting in the Jacuzzi in their private garden, and inhaling the heady fragrance of the flowers, they retired to their bedroom and made love for hours. It was nearly dawn when they fell asleep in each other's arms.

The next morning, their staff at the villa prepared an enormous breakfast for them. Blake showed her his plans for the palace he was rebuilding, and after breakfast they drove out to see it. It was even more fabulous than she expected. It had turrets and arches, and an enormous inner courtyard with beautiful old mosaics inset into the walls, and the rooms of the house were huge. It truly was a palace, and Blake's eyes danced as he walked through it with the architect and Arabella. She made some terrific suggestions for paint colors and the decor. And suddenly as he walked around, he knew he wanted to share it with her. He pulled her into his arms on a balcony overlooking the Atlas Mountains, and kissed her with the passion that had characterized their relationship from the first.

“I want this to be our love nest. It will be perfect for us. You can paint here.” He could see himself spending months there once it was finished. It was a perfect little town, with the restaurants, the bazaars with their exotic wares, and the beauty of nature beyond them. And there was a lively social life as well. Arabella had several French friends who had moved to Marrakech, and she and Blake had dinner with them before they left. It had been a terrific trip.

They dropped the architect off in London, and then flew to the Azores, and from there to St. Bart's. Arabella loved his house there, and a week later they took off on his boat. It was the largest sailboat she had ever seen, and they headed for the Grenadine Islands, just north of Venezuela. She had had to reorganize all her portrait sitting sessions to be with him, and travel with him, but it was worth it. She lay naked on the sun deck with him, as they glided quietly through the transparent green waters. It was February by then, and they both agreed it was the perfect life. It was snowing everywhere else in the world but eternal summer for them. Best of all, it was the summer of their love.

Maxine was walking through snowdrifts then on the way to her office, and she was busier than ever. She'd had a number of new referrals, and a rash of school shootings around the country had her flying to several cities to consult with teams of psychiatrists and local authorities about how to deal with the children who'd been involved.

In her personal life, things were going well with Charles. The winter was flying by. And even Daphne was settling down. She and Charles might never be best friends, but she had stopped making overtly rude comments about him, and once in a while she even let her guard down when he was around, and they had a good laugh. He was making a superhuman effort with her kids. It was easiest for him with Jack and Sam, and he had taken both of them to several basketball games. Daphne was too busy with her own social life to join them, although he always invited her as well.

Maxine was extremely careful not to let them know that she and Charles were sleeping with each other. He never stayed at the apartment, except when all the kids were staying with friends. She tried to stay at his apartment once or twice a week, but she always came home before the children got up to go to school. It made for short nights for them, and very little sleep for her, but she thought it was important to do that. And once in a while, they went away for a weekend. It was the best they could do.

They had been dating for two and a half months on Valentine's Day, and Charles had made a reservation at La Grenouille. It was their favorite restaurant for dinner, and he called it their cafeteria and took her there at least once a week. He was a regular at their family dinners now on Sunday night, and he even cooked for them now and then.

Maxine was touched when she got two dozen red roses from him at the office on Valentine's Day. The note said simply “I love you. C.” He was a very sweet man. Her secretary brought them in with a big smile. She liked Charles too. And Maxine wore a new red dress for dinner with him that night. He told her she looked great when he picked her up, and Sam made a face when Charles kissed her when he arrived, but they were used to it by now.

It was a perfect evening, and Charles came upstairs afterward. She poured him a glass of brandy, and they sat in the living room, as they often did, talking about what was going on in their lives. He was fascinated by her work, and after the recent school shootings, she was scheduled to speak to Congress again. This time he was going to come. He told her he was proud of her, and then he reached up and took her hand. The children were all sound asleep.

“I love you, Maxine,” he said gently, and she smiled at him. She had finally broken through that barrier herself, particularly once she felt that he was making a real effort with her kids.

“I love you too, Charles. Thank you for a lovely Valentine's Day.” She hadn't had one like that in years. Their relationship worked perfectly for her. Not too much, not too little, he didn't monopolize her time, and she could count on seeing him several times a week. And she still had plenty of time for her work and her children. It was exactly what she wanted.

“The last two months have been wonderful,” he said peacefully, “the best in my life, I think.” He had far more in common with her than he had had with his wife in twenty-one years. He had realized long since that Maxine was the woman he had been waiting for all his life. He had made up his mind in the last two weeks, and he was going to share his thoughts with her tonight.

“It's great for me too,” she said, as she leaned over and kissed him. They had left the lights off in the living room, it was relaxing and romantic that way, and she could taste the brandy on his lips.

“I want to spend more time with you, Maxine. We both need to get more sleep,” he teased. “You can't keep getting up at four A.M. when we spend the night together.” They had decided against it that night in fact, because she had early patients to see the next day and so did he. Listening to him, she was suddenly afraid he wanted to move in. And she knew only too well that that would traumatize her kids. They had finally gotten used to her dating him. Living together would have been too much, and it wasn't her style. She liked the fact that she had her apartment, and he had his.

“I think this works for now,” she said quietly, and he shook his head.

“Not for me. Not in the long run. I don't think either of us are the dating type, Maxine. And I think we're old enough to know what we want and when it's right.” Her eyes opened wide as she listened to him. She didn't know what to say, or even what he was saying to her. “I knew it with you right away. We're like two peas in a pod… twins… we're both doctors. We have the same views about many things. I love your company. I'm getting used to your kids… Maxine… will you marry me?” She gave a sudden gasp at what he said and was silent for a long minute while he waited, looking down at her in the light from the street shining into the room. He could see her eyes wide with fright. “It's going to be okay. I promise. I know this is right.” She wasn't as sure. Marriage was forever. She had thought it would be with Blake too, and it wasn't. How could she be sure of that now with Charles?