Brand lowered himself to her, and the sensation of her warm, heated flesh against the masculine roughness of his hard chest caused her to close her eyes and cry out in pleasure.

Brand subdued her whimper with a kiss, plunging his tongue deep in her mouth. His hips moved against hers, telegraphing his urgent need for her. Erin wanted him, too, and instinctively countered each of his movements with one of her own.

Pressing her hand between them, she stroked the hard outline of his maleness. Brand groaned against her mouth, and when he drew in a deep breath, she could feel the rumbling in his chest against the softness of her breasts. She reached for the snap of his jeans, but he pushed her fumbling hand aside and released it himself.

He kissed the side of her jaw and teased the seam of her lips with his tongue. "You’re proving to be too much of a temptation."

"Me? Really?" She couldn’t help sounding surprised. As far as she knew, she’d never enticed a man. Certainly not to the point of arousal Brand had reached. It made her feel beautiful when she knew she wasn’t, and powerful when she’d never experienced a weakness more profound.

Slowly, as if her hand weighed a great deal more than it did, he lifted it away from him and pinned it between them, flattening her palm against his chest.

"Now," he said, drawing in a slow, even breath, "reassure me."

She frowned. "About what?"

"Neal."

Her face relaxed into a slow smile. "Neal is… Let me put it this way…" No, she decided, it was too difficult to explain. "You don’t need to worry about him."

"He wants you, doesn’t he?"

She lowered her lashes and shook her head. "No. I shouldn’t have said anything. It was a slip of the tongue, remember? Not meant for your ears."

"I don’t care. I want to know who he is."

"Trust me, you don’t need to worry about him. I promise."

"Is he married to someone else?"

She was beginning to regret the whole episode, especially since she’d known from the first that she wasn’t going to be able to pull it off and she’d persisted anyway. Brand deserved the truth, no matter how unflattering it was.

"Neal isn’t real. I made him up a long time ago when I wrote down a list of the personality traits I wanted in a husband. I shouldn’t have carried it this far – It was a poor joke."

"What?" Brand exploded. After a shocked moment, he laughed, then kissed the curve of her shoulder and lightly bit her skin.

She yelped, though he hadn’t hurt her.

"That’s what you deserve."

"I couldn’t help it. You fell into my hands."

"That isn’t the only thing we fell into. Sweet heaven, Erin, either we resolve something soon, or I’m going back to Hawaii unfit for military service."

The reminder that he would be leaving within a few hours robbed them of laughter and fun and shared passions like a thief in the night.

Slowly, reluctantly, he eased himself off her and then helped Erin into a sitting position. He continued to hold her for several minutes, his chin resting against the crown of her head.

Neither spoke. But the silence wasn’t an uneasy one. Both of them seemed not to want or need to fill the void with idle chatter. Perhaps because they were afraid of what there was to say.

He was leaving, and it was something Erin had to accept. If they were to continue their relationship, it would be something he’d do countless times. Soon she’d end up keeping tabs on the times they said goodbye.

Later, Brand insisted on taking her to a plush restaurant. The food was excellent. They talked some more, but once again they avoided the subject that was uppermost in their minds.

"So how’s Margo?" he asked over coffee when a sudden silence fell between them.

"Margo…Oh, I’d forgotten I’d told you about her. She’s doing better than I expected," Erin said, and then added, "but she’s having her share of problems, too. Mostly she’s having a difficult time dealing with her anger. A few weeks back I recommended she attend an anger-management course."

"Has she always had trouble with that?"

"Apparently not, but we’re not dealing with someone with a hot temper. What Margo is experiencing is rage. There are times when she literally wants to kill her husband for what he’s done to her and their marriage. As more and more of the details of his ‘other life’ come into play, she’s having to face head-on the deception and the pain, and that isn’t easy for anyone. She feels betrayed and abandoned, in addition to being confused and lost. There was one bright spot, however. She got her driver’s license recently, and I believe once she experiences the freedom a car will give her she’s going to adjust a whole lot better."

Brand sipped his coffee, his eyes warm and thoughtful. "Doesn’t being around these women affect you?"

"How do you mean?"

"Your attitude?"

"Toward marriage?"

Brand nodded.

"I’ve seen plenty of good marriages, my own mother and father’s included. I – "

"Just a minute," Brand interrupted. "You mean to say your parents, who’ve been married how many years?"

"Thirty."

"They’ve been married thirty years and they’re happy."

It didn’t take a genius to see where Brand was leading the conversation. "You can stop right now, Brandon Davis. My mother is a special kind of woman. She thrived on adventure, and don’t let anyone kid you, transporting everything you own from one port to another is an adventure, mostly the unpleasant variety."

"She liked it?"

"Liked isn’t the word I’d use. Mom accepted it. When Dad announced he had shipping orders, she’d simply smile and dutifully do what had to be done, without question, without regret."

"I see. And you – "

She raised her hand. "Don’t even ask." A short silence fell over them. "We’re doing it again," Erin said after several tension-filled moments.

"Arguing?"

"No," she answered, her coffee capturing her attention. "We’ve done it almost the entire length of your stay."

"Done what?"

"Talked about everything else." After he’d first arrived, they’d discussed their relationship only briefly. It was something of a wonder how they’d masterfully avoided the subject for as long as they had. They’d talked about her Women In Transition class, her job with the King County Community Action Program and Marilyn – alias Margo – at length. Even Aimee and her troubled marriage had entered into their conversation.

Sometimes they’d spend hours on a single subject. Brand was an easy person to talk to. He listened and seemed genuinely interested in every aspect of her life, sharing her love and concern for others.

In retrospect, she understood their reluctance to discuss their own relationship, or rather their lack of one.

"There’s no solution for us," she said, swamped with melancholy. They couldn’t continue to fool themselves. Sooner or later they’d be forced to face the impossibility of their situation. Brand was one hundred percent Navy. As it had been with her father, it was with him. The military was far more than his career; it was his life.

"Of course, there’s a solution," Brand countered.

"You could leave the navy and find work here in Seattle," she offered, but even as she spoke, Erin realized that plan wasn’t feasible. Brand would be miserable outside of the military, just as unhappy as she’d be as part of it.

He mulled over her suggestion for a time. "I wish settling in Seattle was that easy, but it isn’t."

"I know," she answered bitterly. Glancing at her watch, she moved her gaze from her wrist to him. "Shouldn’t we be leaving?"

Brand looked at his own watch. "We still have time."

Erin wasn’t convinced of that. But she wasn’t as worried about Brand making his transport plane as she was about having to tell him goodbye. This time was going to be far more difficult than the first, and the third even more heart-wrenching than the second. It would go on and on and on until they were both so much in love and so wretched they’d be willing to agree to anything just to end the heartache.

"There’ll never be any easy answers for us," she whispered through the tightening knot of truth. "One of us will end up giving in to the other and spending the rest of our lives wishing we hadn’t."

"You’re right," Brand announced abruptly. "Now that you mention it, I believe it is time we left." He stood and slapped his linen napkin on the table.

Erin noted how tense the muscles of his jaw had become. Silently she did as he asked, excusing herself while he paid the tab.

Once she was inside the powder room, Erin leaned against the sink, needing its support. If she didn’t compose herself, she was going to break down and weep right there.

She had to put an end to this torment for both their sakes. Brand didn’t seem to want to listen to reason. From everything he’d said, he seemed to believe a magical, mystical fairy godmother would swoop down out of the heavens and declare the perfect solution and they’d all live happily ever after. It simply wasn’t going to happen.

By the time she reappeared, Brand was standing outside waiting for her. The night was cool, the stars obliterated by a thick overcast and the threat of rain hung heavy in the air.

Brand greeted her with "I think it would be best if we said goodbye here."

Her heart objected loud and strong, but she didn’t voice a single doubt. "You’re probably right."

"Well," he said after expelling his breath. "This is it."

"Right," she returned. "Have a safe trip."

"I will."

How stiff and unemotional he sounded, as if they were little more than acquaintances.

"Are you sure you don’t want me to go to the airport with – "

"No."

She nodded, feeling wretched. This was worse than she’d ever believed it would be. Her throat had closed off, and she couldn’t have carried on a conversation had her life depended on it. One- or two-word replies were all she could manage.

"Yes," he countered, just as quickly. "Come with me. God help us both, Erin. I can’t bear to say goodbye to you like this."

Chapter Seven

The phone was ringing when Erin walked in the door that evening. She rushed into the kitchen to answer it, her heart racing like a steam engine. She frantically prayed it was Brand and that he wouldn’t give up before she could make it to the phone. All the while she was dashing across the house she cursed herself, because she was famished for the sound of his voice, eager to accept each little crumb he tossed her way, despite all her vows to the contrary.

She’d gone to the airport with him, kissed him goodbye, then stood and waited until his plane had taxied down the runway and shot into the sky, taking him away from her. Like a fool, she’d stood there for what seemed like an eternity, her heart aching, while she chided herself for caring so damn much. Now she was doing it all again. Running through her own home, risking life and limb in an effort to reach the phone, praying it was Brand who was trying to contact her.