“All right.” He went and sat on the sofa beside her, keeping some distance between them.

She found a box of long matches, checked to be sure the flue was open and lit the fire. The kindling caught, and the fire blazed cheerily. She switched off the ceiling light and sat down on the sofa again. “I want to apologize to you for my behavior today.”

Stone didn’t say anything. He was still annoyed with her.

“I was interfering in your life without any idea of the consequences. I hope having Arrington here didn’t make things worse between you.”

“They were already pretty bad,” he replied. “I suppose I had a chance to make it up with her, but I didn’t like the terms.”

“You accept my apology?”

“I do,” he said, his voice softening, “and I appreciate it.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me. I don’t have the right to ask.”

“I’ll explain anyway,” Stone said. “I told you about my trip to the islands, where I met Allison Manning, now Liz Harding, but I didn’t tell you that, at the time, Arrington and I were living together in New York. We were supposed to fly down together, but she was delayed and missed the flight, and then there was a snowstorm, and she was stuck there for another day. She was a magazine writer, and the New Yorker asked her to do a profile of Vance Calder, whom she already knew. She accepted, and the next thing I knew, she had gone back to California with him, and they were married, almost overnight.”

“That must have come as a shock.”

“It did. A bigger shock came later, when she told me she was pregnant.”

“With your child or Vance’s?”

“She didn’t know. It could have been either of us. In due course, she had the child, I supplied a blood sample, and so did Vance. She called to say that the boy was Vance’s, and that was that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s more. When Vance died, I went out to help Arrington handle the situation, and in so doing, I learned that Vance may have been in control of the test results.”

“So, you’re the father?”

“It may be that the results showed that Vance really was, but if not, he could have had the report changed.”

“So you may be the father and you may not?”

“Right.”

“So why don’t you do the test again?”

“Arrington doesn’t want it done.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’d think she’d want to know for sure who the father of the child is.”

“You’d think.”

“Who does he look like?”

“He looks like both Vance and my father.”

She laughed. “I’m sorry, but it’s a little…”

“Yes, I know, funny.” He smiled himself.

“So that’s how you left it with Arrington?”

“That’s it.”

“Let me ask you something,” she said. “If the test were done, and the child turned out to be yours, what would you want to do about it?”

“I’m not sure, except I’d want him to know, eventually, and I’d like to have some part in his life.”

“What about Arrington? Wouldn’t you want her back?”

“Arrington and I seem to be… I think the expression is ‘star-crossed.” She’s a volatile person, and every time we have seemed to be getting close to each other again, something happens to blow it up.“

“And that’s what happened tonight?”

“I told her that if she didn’t want to know who the boy’s father is, then she didn’t want to know me.”

“Then how, may I ask, did your tie get mussed up?”

Stone laughed. “Arrington had just pulled it loose when I made my little speech, and she stalked out.”

“Out of where?”

“Out of her room.”

“And how did you get to her room?”

“On foot.”

Callie laughed again.

“I thought we were touring the house. I didn’t know where her room was.”

“So you were led down the garden path?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

Callie stroked his cheek with the backs of her fingers. “Poor Stone,” she said. “Between Arrington and me, you’ve had a rough time tonight, haven’t you?”

“Beset from all sides,” Stone said, kissing her fingertips.

“Can I make it up to you?” she asked, sliding across the sofa toward him.

“You can try,' Stone said.

She put her hand on his leg under the robe and slid it up his thigh. “How’s this?” she asked.

“It’s a start,” he replied.

She untied his robe and took it away, then untied her own robe, letting it drop to the floor. She pressed him back on the sofa, knelt beside him and kissed his penis.

Stone made a little noise.

She took him into her mouth and played gently with him, rubbing a nipple, getting the response she wanted at both ends. She held his testicles in one hand, doing inventive things with her tongue, then she stopped for a moment. “This is just for you,” she said. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

“I want you now,” Stone said, panting a little.

“Maybe later,” she said, taking him into her mouth again. She pushed his legs apart and pulled his knees up, then began exploring the cleft of his buttocks with her fingers.

“I’m going to explode soon,” Stone said.

“Not yet,” she replied, then began again. She moved her head slowly up and down, beginning with the tip, then pressing until nearly the whole length of him had disappeared.

Stone couldn’t find words, only noises.

Then Stone exploded, and she stayed with him for another minute, prolonging the orgasm, keeping him going until he could only cry out and collapse back onto the sofa.

Finally, cradling his testicles in a hand, she laid her head on his belly and kissed it softly. “How are you?” she asked.

“I can’t make a fist,” he replied.

“You hardly need to,” she laughed.

They remained that way for a moment, then she climbed onto the sofa with him and lay on top of him, nestling her head into his shoulder.

“There’s something else I should tell you,” he said, “just so you won’t think I’m keeping anything from you.”

“I’m listening.”

“When I heard about Arrington and Vance-I was on the island of St. Marks, at the time-Allison Manning and I had…”

She raised her head. “Each other?”

“Yes. I was angry with Arrington, and Allison…”

“Was there?”

“Yes.”

She laid her head back down. “Well, Allison is somewhere down the road, and I’m here, so just stay away from

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