"Maybe," Pearce sighed. "Maybe not. He's grooming Dzubrow for something."

"Can you talk to him? Tell him you don't want to go?"

Pearce laughed hollowly. "Sure I can. If I want to finish up with the crappiest rotations and no shot at all of ever getting an academic job." She tried to focus on what she needed to do to keep her career on track, but all she could think was that she was going to have to walk out the door and get into her car and drive away. That she wouldn't be able to take Wynter to dinner that night, or breakfast the next morning, or spend another night in her bed--perhaps ever. She couldn't think about that now. She didn't have the luxury to worry about her personal life.

She sighed and opened her locker again. As she drew out her lab coat, she said, "If I'd known this was going to happen, I wouldn't have come over last night. I'm sorry."

"Time has never been on our side."

"No," Pearce said. She pulled a key off her key ring and held it out. "Here. To the old resident's room. Look after...it...for me."

"I will." Wynter's throat ached as she rose and kissed Pearce on the cheek. "Drive carefully."

"Yeah. I will." Pearce watched Wynter turn and leave. She ignored the pain in her chest. Loss was nothing new, and she should know by now not to let anyone in deep enough to miss. She shrugged into her leather jacket, palmed her keys, and grabbed her scrubs. Time to move on.


CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Wynter came instantly awake at the sound of the door opening.

The small, windowless room was completely dark, without even a digital clock to cut the blackness.

"Occupied," she called out irritably. She'd never understand why huge academic institutions couldn't afford decent on-call rooms, but she'd never run across one yet. Whenever she'd had a rotation in a small community hospital, the residents were treated infinitely better. She'd had one rotation where she received three meals a day for free, and there'd even been a television in her private on-call room. Amazing. At the University Hospital, however, that was not the case. Everyone vied for limited sleeping space, and even though she'd heard rumors that new on-call rooms were planned for the next addition to the megalithic complex, she'd believe it when she slept in one.

"It's me," Pearce whispered as she closed the door and flipped the lock.

"Pearce?" Wynter bolted upright. "What time is it?"

"Quarter after one."

Wynter snapped on the bedside table lamp and checked her beeper to make sure it was working. When she saw that it was, she put it down and swung her legs over the side of the narrow bed. She pushed both hands through her hair and then dropped her hands to her sides, curling her fingers around the thin mattress. She looked up at Pearce, who still stood just inside the door. She was in jeans, her black boots, and a black fisherman's sweater. She held her leather jacket in her fist. "What are you doing here?"

Pearce shrugged. "I don't know."

"You're supposed to be in Harrisburg in about six hours."

"I know."

"Are you still going?"

"Yes."

"Take off your clothes and come to bed." Wynter snapped off the light.

Pearce kicked off her boots, unsnapped her jeans and pushed them off, and added her sweater to the pile. Although the room was dark once again, Wynter's figure was imprinted on the backs of her eyelids in a blaze of yellow light. She made her way to the narrow hospital-issue bed and put one hand down, finding the sheets pulled back in welcome.

She sat down and slid under, turning on her side to face Wynter. She stretched out her arm, found Wynter's bare shoulder, and pulled her close.

Wynter nestled her cheek against Pearce's chest and wrapped an arm around her waist. The bed was narrow for one, dangerously so for two, and she slid her thigh between Pearce's as much to anchor them as to be close to her.

"Is it okay if we don't make love?" Pearce murmured. She smoothed her lips over Wynter's forehead. She'd been in her car and had gotten as far as Doylestown before turning back. She hadn't felt such a chasm of despair since her grandmother had died, and her only thought as the miles stretched away behind her had been of lying in Wynter's arms that morning and how good it had felt. Even as she'd made an illegal U-turn across the median, she'd refused to question her actions. She knew any answers she might find would only frighten her.

She closed her eyes and tightened her hold, waiting for Wynter to ask.

"This is fine just like this," Wynter whispered. She kissed the hollow at the base of Pearce's throat and rubbed her face against Pearce's skin. She loved Pearce's smell, windblown and untamed. She was aware of desire, the steady pulse of flesh seeking flesh, but she could enjoy the wanting without craving satisfaction. For the moment.

She kissed Pearce's throat again, then the underside of her jaw. "Are you all right?"

"Pissed." Pearce stroked Wynter's shoulders and down her arm, slowly smoothing her fingers up and down, reveling in the softness of her skin and the steel beneath it.

"Mmm. Me too." Wynter sighed. "I know you have to go, but I want you to be angry that we're being separated. I guess I...I'll miss you."

Pearce gave a small groan and buried her face in Wynter's hair.

"Yeah. I know."

"But I'll probably see you when you get a weekend off, right?"

Wynter tried to sound upbeat, but they both knew how hard it would be to coordinate their schedules, especially long distance. "We're supposed to go running, remember."

"Sure." Pearce knew that now was the time to call things off, and if she'd just kept driving, it wouldn't even have been an issue.

No complications. They'd agreed. They'd had a night together. A great night, sure. A night like none she could ever remember. But it was just a night, like so many nights before. A few hours of frantic connection, of desperate joining, of grateful respite from loneliness. So why wasn't that enough? "I expect you'll be seeing other people."

Seeing other people. Wynter knew what the words meant, she just hadn't considered them in relationship to herself for quite some time.

Even after her divorce, the last thing she'd wanted to do was create any more chaos in her life by getting involved with someone. She'd had to take time off from the surgery residency in the midst of the divorce because moving out, arranging child care, and dealing with all the legal issues was too much for her to handle and still work the way she needed to. Getting the temporary emergency room position had been a godsend. She'd been able to work and had gotten paid. That was all she had wanted. Now she had an excellent residency position, a new home, and a great environment for her daughter. This was not the time to upset the hard-won balance in her life.

"I don't know," Wynter said. "I'm not sure I want to."

"But if you do," Pearce forced herself to say. "You know, you should."

Wynter doubted it would be long before Pearce sought company, and she could hardly ask her not to. From everything she had witnessed, let alone what she had heard, she knew that Pearce was no stranger to casual encounters. She smoothed her hand between Pearce's breasts, a movement so new to her, and yet completely familiar. Without knowing completely how she knew, she was aware that she wouldn't be with a man. Ever again. "Yes. All right."

Pearce closed her eyes tightly. That was right. That was best. Then why did that empty space inside of her come roaring back again? "Pearce?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did you come back here tonight?"

There it was again. The question she didn't want to ask. The answer she didn't want to face because it left her not knowing what her next step would be. "I didn't want to say goodbye."

Wynter kissed the spot beneath Pearce's breast where her heart tapped out a strong, sharp rhythm. "Good. Neither do I."

"Where does that leave us?"

"I don't know, but I feel better than I did when I left you this morning."

"Doesn't take much to make you happy," Pearce murmured, sifting her fingers through Wynter's hair.

Wynter laughed softly. "That's what you think."

Pearce tilted Wynter's chin up and kissed her slowly, a lingering, searching kiss that would not soon be forgotten.

"Good start," Wynter murmured. "Now go to sleep. You have to drive soon."

Pearce closed her eyes, but she didn't sleep. She had only a few more hours with Wynter, fleeting time too precious to lose.

v At nine thirty the next morning, Wynter shuffled to her front door, opened it a crack, and said, "Go away."

"You think I don't know when you come home?"

"Mina," Wynter said with as much patience as she could muster, bracing her knee against the door as Mina pushed from the other side, "I'm going to bed now. Ronnie will be home in five hours, and I'm going to have to play mommy."

"You can go to sleep just as soon as we have our little talk."

"Later," Wynter said, trying to close the door. She looked down and saw Mina's foot, encased in her substantial snow boot, blocking the way. "Mina..."

"This is the first time in six weeks you haven't stopped over to chat when you came home. What's going on?"

"Just tired." Despite her desperate need to be alone, Wynter opened the door. "Come inside. It's freezing out."

Mina forged ahead like a great ship steaming into port, and she didn't stop until she was well into the living room, where she removed her woolen coat and draped it over the back of the couch. "Let's go upstairs and put you to bed. We can talk there."