“Why do you say that? What’s wrong?”

Leslie shook her head and rubbed her hand over her forehead, closing her eyes

against the headache that had sprung up out of nowhere.

“Nothing. It’s not important.”

“Of course it’s important. I’ve had a long time to think about what happened

between us, Leslie,” Eileen said intently. “Something happened when you went

away to college. You shut down. Or shut me out. And I let you.”

“Mom,” Leslie said, “it’s not—”

“Is it Dev?”

• 178 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

Shocked, Leslie could only stare. Finally she found her voice.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because if I didn’t know about Rachel, I’d think you and Dev were lovers.”

Leslie’s jaw dropped. “Why?”

Eileen laughed and lifted her hands as if it were obvious. “Because of the way

you are together.”

“We aren’t any way at all together,” Leslie said vehemently. “Of course we’re

not lovers! I haven’t even seen Devon since two days before I left for college.”

Eileen’s eyes narrowed. “Why not? Why did you lose touch?”

“Because!” Leslie spun away and closed her eyes, appalled to feel tears slip

from between her lashes. Her legs shook, and she reached blindly for a nearby

stool. She slumped onto it and took several long deep breaths, centering herself,

reclaiming her control. Then she brushed quickly at her face and turned back to

face her mother. She spoke with no emotion, reciting facts. “I knew Dev in high

school. I was a year ahead of her, and I went away to school and that was the

last time I saw her.”

“I knew that part, Leslie. What I don’t know is the part you still don’t want to

tell me.”

Leslie tugged at her lower lip with her teeth, biting down until the pain helped her

focus. She could hold back her tears, but she couldn’t hold back the truth

anymore. “Mike found us kissing and he beat her up. He hurt her, and I let him.”

“Oh my God. Leslie.”

Leslie put her face in her hands and bowed her head. “I let him.

God. I let him.” She raised her head, her eyes Þ lled with misery. “Then Dev

had the accident on her bike and I went off to college and pretended it never

happened.”

“I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry you had to go through all that by yourself.”

Eileen rose and gave Leslie a quick hug. Then she rested her cheek against

Leslie’s hair, keeping her arm very lightly on Leslie’s shoulders. “I’d like to

murder Mike. I’m so sorry you and Dev were hurt.”

“Dev was hurt. I just ran.”

Eileen kissed the top of her head, then asked gently, “So you two were

girlfriends, back then?”

• 179 •

RADCLY fFE

“No,” Leslie said with a sigh. “Well, we were but we didn’t realize what was

happening between us until that night. And then I kind of freaked out, and it

took me years to Þ gure it all out.”

Eileen tilted Leslie’s chin up and studied her face. “What about now that you

and Dev are friends again?”

“I’m with Rachel. We’ve been seeing each other almost two years.”

“Do you two live together in Manhattan?” Eileen settled back on her stool.

“No.” Leslie shook her head, relieved not to be talking about Dev or the past

anymore. “We both have our own condos. Our schedules are so crazy, we

don’t see each other that much anyhow, so there’s really no point in living

together.”

“Well, making a life together isn’t always about how much time you spend in the

same place.”

“We’re not that kind of couple.” Leslie frowned, realizing how that sounded,

even though it was true. “We both have our own lives, Mom. We respect each

other’s work. We enjoy each other. Things are Þ ne just the way they are.”

“I see,” Eileen said gently. “Well, it will be nice to meet her.”

“Thanks,” Leslie said, aware just how inadequate her summary of her

relationship with Rachel must have sounded. But she’d been truthful. What does

that say about my life?

v

“Soup’s on!” Natalie called.

Tucking a faded blue-checked ß annel shirt into her oldest pair of jeans, Dev

made her way slowly out of the bedroom to Þ nd Natalie, barefoot in a white

silk T-shirt and black slacks, spooning tomato soup into bowls. A Þ re crackled

in the Þ replace and a tray of cheese and French bread sat on the coffee table in

front of the sofa. A bottle of white wine completed the picture.

“That looks great, thanks,” Dev said, an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She hadn’t been able to make it any farther than the sofa when she got home

that morning, and she’d still been asleep when Natalie arrived, announcing her

intentions to make dinner. Dev hadn’t wanted company, but Natalie had come

out in the pouring rain so she’d smiled and let her in. Now, showered and Þ

nally warm, she took in the

• 180 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

room and realized that Natalie might be interested in more than dinner.

Natalie’s silk T was just sheer enough to reveal a hint of dusky nipples on her

decidedly braless breasts. She wore her dark hair down, and Dev caught the

hint of an earthy perfume. Natalie looked and smelled like walking sex.

“How’s your leg?” Natalie carried the bowls to the coffee table, set one down in

front of Dev, and curled up next to her with the other bowl balanced in her lap.

“Not bad,” Dev said, sipping the soup. “This was nice of you.”

“You looked like hell this morning. If I hadn’t had to get the rest of our

marooned campers off the islands, I wouldn’t have left you here alone today.”

“I would have been pretty lousy company. I crashed the minute I walked in and

didn’t move until you knocked on the front door.”

Natalie shrugged, smiling softly. “I can think of worse things to do than watching

you sleep.”

Carefully, Dev set her bowl down. She liked Natalie a lot. Natalie was not only

smart and capable, she was sexy as all get out. A month ago, Dev had seriously

considered a night with her, maybe even a pleasant summer interlude. Now all

she could think about was Leslie.

All she’d been able to think about since the moment she’d seen her at the train

station had been Leslie. She could still smell her hair, still feel her body stretched

along hers, still feel her everywhere. She hurt so much inside she wanted to fall

on her knees and beg for everything to be different. Christ, what a fool.

“Why does it bother you that I want to go to bed with you?”

Natalie asked, putting her own bowl aside.

“That’s direct.” Dev grinned shakily. “I like that about you.”

Natalie stretched one leg out and curled her toes into Dev’s right calf. Then she

slowly ran her foot up and down Dev’s jean-clad leg.

“I’ve wanted to get you into bed since the Þ rst time I saw you standing in the

lake with water up to your waist. And unless I’m way off base, no one else is

warming your bed.”

Hitching her leg partway onto the couch, Dev turned sideways so she could

meet Natalie’s gaze. She caught her breath when Natalie slid her foot along the

top of her thigh and between her legs. When Natalie’s heel nudged the seam in

her jeans, Dev stiffened.

“Tell me that doesn’t feel good.” Natalie’s voice was throaty and low, her eyes

soft and sultry.

• 181 •

RADCLY fFE

Dev wrapped her Þ ngers around Natalie’s ankle and moved her foot away an

inch. She was tired and weary at heart, but her body still screamed for release

after the hours of arousal the night before, and Natalie was very good at

seduction. “I’m not dead, Natalie. You’re a beautiful woman and you’re making

me more than a little bit crazy.”

Natalie drew her leg away, slid closer on the couch, and put her hand where her

foot had been—high on the inside of Dev’s thigh. She squeezed the tight muscle,

released, then squeezed again. Dev gasped.

“Let me make you feel good. I know what you need. Let me slide my Þ ngers

—”

“Natalie,” Dev said, her voice rough, her stomach tight. “It wouldn’t be right.”

“Dev, for God’s sake, I can tell you want me. What is it you think I want that

you’re so worried about?” Natalie moved her hand from Dev’s thigh to her

cheek, stroking her face. “All I want is to share what we both want to share. I’m

not asking for anything else.”

“I know, I believe you.” Dev leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling, her

breath coming in painful spurts. It had taken so long to feel anything for any

other woman, and she didn’t often give in to physical attraction. Too many times

she’d been left feeling empty. She turned her head and met Natalie’s troubled,

questioning gaze. “I can’t make love to you because I…I…”

“Because you’re in love with Leslie Harris.”

Dev closed her eyes as the pain washed through her. Natalie leaned forward

and gently kissed her on the mouth. Natalie’s lips were soft, moist, warm. Her

full, Þ rm breasts pressed against Dev’s arm.

She smelled like rain, she smelled like life. And Dev hurt so much. She wanted