been in her stance. “So, Counselor. What do you think?”

Leslie edged closer, as if she were drawn by a magnet and helpless to resist the

pull. She did just barely manage to resist slipping her hand beneath the edge of

Dev’s jacket and touching her. But her Þ ngers quivered with the need for

contact. Her voice came out breathy, but she couldn’t control that either. “I

thought you were fabulous. If I ever see your name on an expert list, I’m

recommending we settle.”

Dev laughed, knowing Leslie was playing with her. It felt so good.

So good to tease with her again. She used to think it was the lake that created

the magic around them, that made the rest of the world fade away so there was

only the two of them. Maybe she’d been wrong, because they couldn’t be

farther from the lake than they were right now and she felt it still. The magic.

Watching the happiness light Leslie’s eyes, she felt the dream tremble and surge

back to life.

“Let me take you to dinner,” Leslie said quickly. “You’re not going right back,

are you?”

If she had intended to go home, Dev would have changed her plans

immediately. She shook her head. “I’m here until tomorrow.”

“Where are you staying?”


Dev told her, lifting her overnighter. “I should probably go check in now.” She

didn’t move, loath to let Leslie out of her sight. “I could meet you somewhere?”

“Why don’t I go with you?” Leslie said, having difÞ culty thinking clearly when

every nerve in her body was jangling. Since her mother had told her a week

before about Dev’s upcoming trial and she’d tracked down the details, she’d

anticipated seeing Dev. As the day had drawn closer, her anxiety—part

excitement, part uncertainty—had climbed exponentially to the point where she

could barely sleep. Now Dev was here, and she wasn’t wasting a minute of their

time together. “We can walk to dinner somewhere from your hotel.”

“Sure. That sounds great.” Dev thought anything sounded great as long as she

could spend the evening with Leslie. Like an addict who knew she would wake

up bathed in the clammy sweat of remorse and regret in the morning but who

nevertheless downed the next drink or shot the next line or laid down the next

bet, Dev reached for Leslie’s hand. She didn’t care how much it hurt tomorrow.

Tonight the wounds that never completely healed would fade for a few merciful

hours.

“Let’s go.”

Still holding Dev’s hand, Leslie hailed a cab and they climbed into the backseat.

Their thighs brushed as the cabbie swerved through rush-hour trafÞ c with the

reckless abandon of a man with a death wish.

At one point the cab jerked so violently that Leslie was thrown into Dev, and

Dev automatically curved her arm around Leslie’s shoulders.

Leslie wrapped her arm around Dev’s waist to steady herself. When the cab

resumed a somewhat smoother course, Leslie didn’t move away.

Dev stared straight ahead through the windshield, but she wasn’t watching the

trafÞ c or the street signs. She wasn’t aware of anything except Leslie leaning

against her and the pressure of Leslie’s arm wrapped around her middle. Her

heart was pounding, or maybe that was Leslie’s. Blood thundered through her

chest, heat kindled in the depths of her abdomen, and she shivered as waves of

arousal rolled through her. She stroked Leslie’s arm and her Þ ngertips burned.

“I can’t do this, Les,” Dev whispered, realizing that unlike the addict, she had no

tolerance for her addiction. The pleasure would destroy her long before

morning. “I thought I could. But I can’t.”

“Do what?” Leslie murmured, following the pulse rippling along Dev’s neck

through heavy lids. Her body felt tight, like ripe fruit ready to burst in the sun.


“I can’t be this close to you.” Dev shuddered as Leslie smoothed her palm in a

gentle circle over the center of her stomach.

“You’re shaking.” Leslie drew away, searching Dev’s face anxiously, her heart

clenching at the agony in Dev’s dark eyes. “Oh, God, Dev, what’s wrong?”

“I thought I could be friends. Spend time with you, like friends.”

Dev’s voice cracked, and she swallowed hard. “I can’t. Not now.” She edged

away on the seat but it wasn’t far enough. Two hundred miles hadn’t been far

enough to stop wanting her. Two thousand wouldn’t be.

“I’ll need to pass on dinner.”

“Hilton,” the cabbie grunted as he rocketed the cab into the turnaround and

slammed to a halt.

Leslie ignored him, her eyes on Dev. “I’m coming up with you.

We’ll just talk. Please, Dev.”

Leslie was hurting, Dev could hear it. And she thought if she had to watch the

cab drive away with Leslie inside, she’d end up howling like an animal with its

leg caught in a trap. She couldn’t let her go and she couldn’t be near her without

dying by inches. But given the choice between two miseries, she’d choose the

one thing she’d always craved.

Leslie.

Wordlessly, Dev nodded and got out of the cab. While Leslie paid the

cabdriver, Dev walked around and opened Leslie’s door, then extended her

hand. Leslie’s Þ ngers closed around hers, and the charge of ß esh on ß esh

almost rocked her back on her heels.

How could she say no? She could more easily stop her own heart from beating.


CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Dev glanced over her shoulder impatiently while the hotel receptionist ran her

credit card and programmed her room key. Leslie was still there, waiting in the

lounge area adjacent to the front desk. Leslie seemed perfectly composed,

sitting with her shapely legs crossed, one arm resting along the curved edge of

the upholstered armchair, upper body angled so that she faced in Dev’s

direction. Dev was anything but composed. She needed something to settle her

down—

a cigarette, a drink, something—but she didn’t smoke and rarely drank more

than a glass or two of wine and the something that she needed was Leslie. God,

she needed her.

“Here you are,” the receptionist said with a smile. “Enjoy your stay, Dr.

Weber.”

“Thanks,” Dev said, waving off the bellman as she stuffed the paperwork into

her jacket pocket. With the plastic key card in one hand and her overnighter in

the other, she strode over to Leslie. “All set. I can take my things upstairs and

be down in Þ ve minutes if you want to wait here. We can go out to dinner right

away, if you’re hungry.”

Leslie stood, shaking her head. She slid the key card from Dev’s hand and

slipped her palm into its place. “Let’s go upstairs.”

“Okay.”

It was a mistake, Dev knew it. But she couldn’t imagine sitting across from

Leslie in a restaurant, pretending she was hungry or trying to make casual

conversation. At least in her hotel room she would be spared the social charade.

They rode upstairs to the tenth ß oor in silence, their shoulders touching as they

made room for other guests. Leslie kept her hand in Dev’s the entire ride, their

Þ ngers loosely entwined.


Dev found the room, set her luggage down, and held out her hand for the key

card Leslie still carried. “Okay?”

“Yes. Very,” Leslie murmured, thinking that if Dev didn’t open the door and get

them inside soon, she wouldn’t be responsible for what happened out in the hall.

Dev looked so worried, so unsure, and Leslie hated to see her that way. It was

her fault, she knew it. Dev had always been there for her, always clear about

what she felt, always waiting for Leslie to understand. And now Dev didn’t trust

her.

Leslie was struck with a sudden stab of fear that maybe Dev had Þ nally

stopped waiting and moved on. Maybe her reluctance in the cab hadn’t been

because she didn’t trust Leslie’s feelings, but because she was no longer

available. Leslie panicked, unable to imagine what she would do if she lost Dev

now. “Hurry, Dev.”

Surprised by the urgency in Leslie’s voice, Dev sliced the card through the lock

slot, cranked the handle, and shoved the door open with her shoulder. She

kicked her overnighter into the room while holding the door for Leslie to enter.

She ß ipped the wall switch just inside the door, lighting a small bedside lamp

that suffused the room with muted light. The heavy ß oral drapes on the window

were closed.

Besides the king-size bed and entertainment console opposite it, there was a

small sitting area with a sofa, coffee table, and desk.

Dev took it all in at a glance as the door swung closed behind her, leaving her to

face Leslie, who waited a few feet away. Leslie took one step toward her, the

expression on her face one that Dev had never seen before. Her lips, shining and

moist with pale gloss, were slightly parted and curved tenderly at each corner.

Her blue eyes, shimmering like lake water in the sunlight, were Þ xed intently on

Dev’s. A rush of heat swept through Dev so quickly she caught her breath and

backed up a step, as if she could escape. Her back hit the door and she lifted