a small boy, and she laughed.
“I think I was a trifle tired.” She smiled again and slid back into the sheets, with one hand on his thigh. It had been a long, delicious night in his arms, and they hadn’t fallen asleep until dawn.
“Is that a complaint?”
“Uh-uh.” She let her lips drift up his leg and then stop at his hip, where she kissed the pale, tender white skin where a small vein throbbed. “Good morning, my love.” She smiled at the life she saw stirring, and Ben pulled her gently back into his arms.
“Have I told you yet this morning how much I love you?” He was looking tenderly into her eyes, and there was something in his face she had dreamed of and painted but never seen. It was a kind of passion, a kind of unfettered love. It was something that she had long ago longed for and ceased to believe could exist. “I love you, Deanna… I love you…” His words melted away on her lips as he kissed her for the first time that morning and let his body slide slowly over hers. She protested faintly but with laughter and squirms as he pressed her close to him. “You have an objection?” He looked amused and surprised; he didn’t look as though he would be swayed by whatever she said.
“I haven’t even brushed my teeth! Or combed my hair… or…” Her words kept fading, swept away by his kisses, as she giggled and ran her hands through his uncombed hair. “Ben… I have to…”
“No, you don’t. I love you like this.” He seemed sure.
“But I…”
“Shhh…”
“Ben!” But this time she forgot about her teeth and her hair; she was too happy right where she was, swept away, adrift on a sea of delight as his whole body seemed to enter her soul.
“Sleepy, darling?” His voice was a whisper when they finally spoke. Almost two hours had passed, and she was curled happily in his arms, one leg braided between his.
“Mm-hmm… Ben?”
“Yes?” His voice was so soft on the warm, summer morning.
“I love you.” Hers was almost the voice of a child.
“I love you, too. Now go to sleep.”
And she did, for another two hours. When she opened her eyes, he was standing at the foot of the bed, dressed and holding a tray. She woke up in surprise. He was wearing a businesslike, striped blue suit. “What are you doing?” Confused, she sat up in bed and ran a hand through her hair. Suddenly she felt very naked and unkempt, as the sweet smell of their lovemaking drifted up from the bed. “How long have I slept?”
“Not very long. I’d look like that too except I have a luncheon at the gallery. I canceled one yesterday and if I cancel this one too, Sally will quit. But I won’t be gone long.” He placed the tray on her knees as she sat back against the pillows in the large double bed. “I hope that’ll do.” There were croissants, fruit, cafe au lait, and one carefully poached egg. “I wasn’t sure what you like for breakfast.” He looked very young again as he smiled.
Deanna looked at the breakfast in astonishment and then at him. What could she say? He had appeared in her life on a beach in Carmel, and now he was making her poached eggs and croissants for breakfast and apologizing for not knowing what she liked. They had made love all through the night and for most of the morning; he had told her he loved her, and she him; she didn’t even feel guilty for waking up in his bed and not her own-the bed she had shared for eighteen years with Marc. She didn’t even give a damn about Marc this morning. She felt happy and young and in love, and all she wanted was what she had with Ben. She looked up at him with a rapturous smile and a sigh as she picked up a croissant.
“I warn you, sir, if you spoil me rotten, I will be unbearable in less than a week.”
“No, you won’t.” He said it with certainty and amusement. Suddenly he seemed very grown-up once again.
“Yes, I will.” She closed her eyes blissfully as she ate the roll. “I’ll come to expect croissants every morning, and poached eggs, and cafe au lait…” She opened her eyes again. They were very bright and very full of mischief. “I’ll even expect you to stay home from the office every day, just so we can make love.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Oh, no? Why won’t I?”
“Because tomorrow it’s your turn to make breakfast for me. This is a democracy, Deanna. We live here together; we take turns. We spoil
“I’ll make a note of that.” She grinned at him.
He stood up. “I’ll remind you.”
“O.K.” She went on eating her breakfast, perfectly happy and at ease. She felt as though they had lived together for months if not years. It did not seem strange at all to have him smile happily at her naked breasts as she sipped cafe au lait from a bright-yellow mug. Everything between them was comfortable and easy and real. It was a far cry from the formality and rituals in her own home. And she found that she liked Ben’s way better. The yellow mug in her hand had a feel of solidity. It felt strong, not like the prissy blue-flowered Limoges from Marc’s mother.
“What are you doing today?”
“I think first of all I’ll take a bath.” She wrinkled her nose, and they both laughed.
“I love you just like that.”
“You’re a piggy.” She held her arms up to him though, and he kissed her again. When he pulled away, he rolled his eyes with regret.
“God, maybe I’ll have to cancel that lunch after all.”
“There’s later. Or”-she started to ask him if they would see each other that night, but she could already see the answer in his eyes.
“No ‘or,’ Deanna. I’ll be finished at the gallery at five. I thought we could go somewhere quiet for dinner. Maybe somewhere in Marin?”
“I’d love it.” She sat back against the pillows with a broad smile, but she noticed that there was a shadow of concern in his eyes. “Something wrong?”
“Not for me. But I-I was wondering how you feel about-about going out. I don’t want to create any difficult situations for you.” He had to remind himself that she had another life. That she would never be entirely his. That she was on loan. Like a masterpiece from a foreign museum, not something he could own and keep on his gallery wall. It would make her infinitely more precious in the time that they’d share. “Won’t it create a problem for you if we go out?” He looked at her very openly, his green eyes tender and wide.
“It doesn’t have to. It will depend on what we do, where we go, how we behave. I think it could be all right.” He nodded, saying nothing, and she held out a hand. He took it silently and sat down again on the bed.
“I don’t want to do anything that will hurt you later.”
“You won’t. Now stop worrying. Everything will be fine.”
“I mean it though, Deanna. I would hate it if you suffered for this afterward.”
“Don’t you think we both will?”
He looked up in surprise, “What do you mean?”
“I mean that this is going to be the most beautiful summer of my life, and hopefully yours. When it ends, when we both go back to our own lives, don’t you think that we’ll suffer?”
He nodded and looked down at the graceful hand he held tightly in his own. “Do you regret what we decided?”
Deanna threw back her head and laughed a silvery laugh before kissing him tenderly on the cheek. “Not for a moment.” And then she grew serious again. “But I think we’d be crazy if we expected not to suffer later. If it’s worth a damn, if it’s beautiful, if we really care… then we will. We’ll have to accept that.”
“I do. For myself. But-”
“But what? You don’t want me to hurt too? You don’t want me to feel it? Or to love you? Don’t be crazy, Ben. It’s worth it.”
“I understand that. I agree. But I also want to be discreet. I don’t want to create problems for you with Marc.”
