His hand slowly began to draw circles on her belly. "Just say, 'Thank you, Zachary.' "

"Thank you, Zachary. Oh!" She caught her breath as his fingers dipped between her thighs. "By the way, I think…"

"Yes?"

"I think… you're beautiful too! Zack-"

"Well," he said, laughing softly, "now I guess I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything. Just…" His hands were tormenting her with feather strokes, making it hard to talk. She caught his hand and held it against her. "Just… 'Thank you, Maddy.' "

He captured her other hand and carried it to his body. "Thank you, Maddy."

Her eyes flew open in momentary shock, then drifted down on a smile. "Hello again, Zachary," she murmured.

He made love to her slowly this time, showing her with great tenderness and sensitivity all the ways her body could give and receive joy. He left the lights on, so she could see the pleasure she brought to him, and her own, mirrored in his eyes.

When she was limp and somnolent again, and about to drift off to sleep cuddled close in Zack's arms, Maddy realized that she not only knew she was beautiful. For the first time in her life she felt beautiful. Never again, with Zack, at least, would she ever feel shy and dismayed by her own body.

She moved her head and touched her lips to his shoulder. "Thank you, Zachary…" she murmured, even though she knew he was already asleep.

Maddy woke before Zack did and lay for a while examining the newness of waking up in the morning with a man beside her. Well, not any man, of course, but Zack. She decided that was a very important distinction.

The next thing she decided, with some surprise, was that she felt absolutely no guilt. How could something be wrong that gave her such a profound sense of rightness and well-being?

The third thing she decided was more in the form of a confirmation: She loved the man beside her, deeply and without reservation.

Though he certainly wasn't a neat person, she conceded, gazing at his tousled head with tender amusement. The bed, unmade to begin with, was a twisted tangle of bedclothes, half of which had fallen onto the floor, where they mingled with various discarded items of Zack's wardrobe to form an amorphous pile. Memories of what had caused the bed to be in such a state assailed her, making her feel remarkably smug, like an indolent cat.

It became impossible to lie in bed. She was hungry, and she needed a bathroom. And she'd love a shower, too, but wasn't sure just how "at home" she should make herself in Zack's bathroom. She didn't want to wake him, but at least she could brush her teeth. That brand-new toothbrush she'd found last night after her losing battle with the champagne was down the hall, in the other bathroom.

Easing herself carefully away from Zack's inert form, Maddy crept out of bed and stood up. After a moment's indecision, she bent and sorted through the twisted bedclothes until she had untangled a sheet, which she wrapped around herself like a toga.

Not neat, she thought, but clean. The sheet smelled of fabric softener, and very subtly and evocatively of Zack and of her and the night just past.

Something warm and incandescent spread through her. She looked back once more at the long, tanned body sprawled across the bed, took a deep, tremulous breath, and went out, leaving him in blissful oblivion.

A stop in the bathroom took care of her most pressing needs, but now the clamor in her stomach became impossible to ignore. Hitching her sheet around her, Maddy padded out to the kitchen. As she passed the front entry she saw her shoes, dress, and Zack's towel still lying where they had fallen. Graphically detailed memories made a star-burst inside her as she bent to pick them up and drop them, somewhat pointlessly, into a chair.

Amazing, she thought for the hundredth time. She hadn't known about any of this.

She hadn't known her body could feel like this, tender in places, but awake and tingling in every nerve and cell and pore. She hadn't known before what it meant to say, "My heart is full." She hadn't dreamed it could be so wonderful to love, and be loved-

But wait. Zack hadn't said anything at all about love.

Maddy found herself in the kitchen, staring down at the clutter Zack had left on the counter last night. Her spirits suddenly felt as cold and limp as the stack of untouched toast. Zack had mentioned need and friendship and mutual comfort-even, in a less direct way, desire-but had never, in any way, direct or otherwise, talked about love.

Her stomach growled. She picked up a piece of leathery toast and bit into it, chewing thoughtfully as she examined her feelings. Presently she swallowed and took a deep breath.

Well, okay. She'd faced that reality and decided that she didn't care. She'd concluded long ago that Zack was probably still carrying too much pain around with him to be capable of love anyway. For now, it was enough that he needed her.

Never a very discriminating eater, Maddy polished off that piece of toast and one more, and, in the absence of anything that looked like a coffeepot, a glass of milk. She drank it slowly, sitting at the kitchen table, gazing out at the pool. This, she realized, must have been where Theresa had been sitting when she'd caught Zack kissing her…

It was a beautiful June morning, with the fog already burning away. Beyond the pool deck and the emerald dichondra, flowering shrubs were rampant. Hummingbirds darted about, elusive but captivating flashes of iridescence. The air was a golden shimmer, alive with birdsong.

Sunshine had turned the turquoise rectangle of the pool into a jewel set in terra cotta and jade. Maddy sat staring at that sparkling water for a long time. Then she got up, rinsed her milk glass and set it carefully in the sink, secured her toga, and walked down the stairs to the basement. There she paused to take a deep breath, then pulled open the glass door and stepped with determination into the morning.

Zack went looking for Maddy and found her on the deck. He paused inside the glass door to stare at her as she stood with her back to him, gazing at the pool as if entranced. She looked like a goddess in her sheet toga, with the sun turning the tumbled cascade of her hair to burnished gold. The sheet had slipped low in the back, baring the seductive and graceful curve of her spine. Athena, strolling the gardens of Olympus.

Not entirely certain that the familiarity she'd acquired during the night with his nude body would carry into broad daylight, he stepped back from the door before she could turn and see him. He rummaged in the closet for a reasonably presentable bathing suit and stepped into it. Then he went out to Maddy and dropped a good-morning kiss onto the lush curve of her shoulder.

" 'Mornin', sunshine." He wrapped his arms around her and stood very still, with his head lowered next to hers, just immersing himself in the scent and feel of her.

"Hi." Her voice was shy and breathy, but with an underlying huskiness that he hadn't heard before… except, come to think of it, when she'd turned that dragon of hers into a puppet Mae West.

He felt her cheek move as she smiled, and she lifted a hand to touch his hair.

"You were up pretty early, considering," he said.

She laughed low in her throat, a wonderfully sexy sound. Zack had a feeling that everything she said and did from now on was going to have that connotation for him. It might get to be a problem…

"I was hungry," she said.

"Hmm. Find anything to eat?"

More of that delicious laughter. "Toast." He groaned. "No, it wasn't bad-really. I hated to see it all go to waste. And I had some milk. Couldn't find the coffee."

"Coffee's bad for you."

"I knew it," she said with a sigh. "A certified health nut."

"Nobody's perfect," he acknowledged, nuzzling her neck. "Hey, I love your toga. Let's see… What was it you did to my towel last night?"

"Zack! Don't you dare. Stop that-" She whirled away from him, clutching her sheet and laughing. "Actually, I was just standing here, thinking…"

" Bout what?" He folded his arms across his chest in a consciously arrogant, completely masculine stance.

She grinned at him and muttered, "Well, that too. But I was thinking about… what we discussed last night. My problem."

"Yeah?" Knowing it was important to her, he made an effort to put a damper on his libido. For the moment. "And?"

"And I was wondering if it had done any good. You said it would help to talk about it, and I did feel better last night, but I don't know if it's changed anything. I can't believe the fear could be gone, just like magic."

"And were you thinking that this might be a good time to try it out?"

She nodded. He went to her and put his hands on her arms. "Sweetheart, I'm game. But don't expect too much of yourself, okay? Talking about your problem is only the beginning. You're right-it isn't magic."

"I want to try." Her gaze was steady, and there was a stubborn look to the set of her mouth. He smiled and kissed her.

"Okay, babe. One problem, though. What are you going to wear?"

He was laughing, but she looked really crestfallen.

She breathed a little "Oh…" of chagrin and put her fingers to her lips. "I don't have anything."

"Well," he said judiciously, "you don't really need anything, I suppose."

"Zack! It's broad daylight!"

He lifted his hands. "We're completely private here. No one to see but me."

She chewed her lip in confusion, torn between a lifelong habit of modesty and one of life's primal temptations: the joy of skinny-dipping.

"Wait. On second thought," Zack amended hurriedly when he saw a dewy flush of excitement tinge her cheeks, "I think it might be a little too distracting for the teacher. Come on, let's see what we can find."