She inclined her head, feeling the guilt Sam had spoken of earlier. She didn't want to cause Ryan to feel bad. "You're right."

His gaze bore into hers. "And I'm serious about you."

She swallowed hard. "Ryan."

"Zoe," he mimicked, but he wasn't laughing. "I'm not going to say what you want to hear. I can't make it that easy on you."

She wondered if he could hear her heart pounding in her chest, wanting to leap out and— she didn't know what her heart wanted. Nor did she know what he desired from her.

"What is it you want from me? From us?" she asked him.

He held up his hand and she laced her fingers through his. His touch was warm, their connection solid, yet she couldn't discount what separated them— physical distance and social differences, she thought.

"I'll take an open mind to start," Ryan said.

She narrowed her gaze. "Meaning?"

"Meaning I agree that we have our own individual lives and we need to go live them."

She blinked, unsure she'd heard him correctly. He was letting her go? "Say that again?"

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"I agree with what you've been saying, that we need to get back to our daily routine and the things that define our lives."

She nodded slowly. "Okay, then." She could zip her suitcase and hop on a plane. He wasn't stopping her. Just the opposite, in fact. He was giving her what she wanted, so why did she feel so bad?

Like her heart had been sliced open and would never heal?

"I'd just like to know that while we're apart, you'll keep an open mind. Remember the good times we shared. Can you do that?" he asked.

His voice soothed her emotions like warm honey and she savored the liquid heat and delicious feelings he inspired. He was giving her time and space. He respected her feelings and, as a result, she respected him even more.

"Of course I can think about the good times." It was probably all she would think about. "Besides, we'll keep in touch through Sam." She forced a smile, refusing to think about how difficult a mere friendship with him would be.

"Definitely," he said easily.

Too easily.

"Speaking of Sam," he continued. "I thought through everything you suggested, and you were right about that, too. You should take her home for the summer. Not only will your parents get time with Sam, but I'll have a chance to organize things around here."

Zoe waved her arm through the air. "Her school, her room, things like that?"

He shrugged. "Things," he said vaguely.

Well, he was entitled to his privacy no matter how much she disliked being shut out. "So what did you mean when you said you weren't going to make it easy on me or tell me what I want to hear?"

He curled his fingers around hers. "I'm not letting you go without reminding you that I love you. And remember, nothing is forever." He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering. "Not even goodbye."

On that enigmatic note, he released her without even a kiss on the lips.

* * *

ONE WEEK HAD PASSED since Ryan had driven Zoe and Sam to the airport, and he still felt as if he'd put his heart on the plane with them. Letting Zoe go, allowing her to think he wanted the break, was the most difficult thing he'd ever done.

He hoped it was the smartest.

He hadn't been able to think of another way to force her into realizing that she missed him when they were apart and that they could easily make a life together— if only she came to terms with her fears.

She had to believe he loved her for who she was and that he had no intention of destroying her independence or strong personality, the very qualities he'd fallen in love with. She needed to believe that despite their different backgrounds, he accepted her unique traits. But, most important, she had to believe in herself, and trust that she wouldn't allow anyone to change her. Knowing all she had to come to terms with, Ryan planned to give her time before coming after her.

He refused to contemplate what he'd do if she turned him away for good. In the meantime, he'd used his own time wisely, doing as Zoe had suggested.

He'd returned to the business of living. His days consisted of getting back into the routine of work, dealing with clients, attending meetings, returning phone calls and scheduling business lunches.

Somehow the days passed, yet every time he returned to his condo, he was reminded of all he'd briefly had and lost. He missed hearing the sounds of female voices. When he woke up, he expected to find either Sam or Zoe making themselves at home in his kitchen. And on the nights when he managed to get some sleep, he'd roll over hoping to find Zoe had joined him in his bed.

Amazing how fast a man got used to things that were once foreign to him. Only now those things were nothing more than spectacular memories. He spoke to Sam every couple of days, but not once had Zoe answered the telephone when he'd called. When asked, Sam always said Zoe wasn't home. He doubted the kid would lie since she seemed to want Ryan and Zoe together as much as Ryan himself.

In his free time he'd done a lot of soul searching about his sister, her life and his uncle's role in both her running away and the way she'd died. Though Ryan had come closer to accepting and comprehending, he hadn't yet reached the point of complete forgiveness, so he hadn't returned Russ's calls. Since Ryan had always had his uncle as a sounding board, a mentor and a friend, now he had no one. And he felt the loss.

He hadn't been in touch with his family since Sam had left, but he was ready to deal with them, which was a good thing since his secretary info rmed him he was "expected" at the house for dinner this evening. Well, it wasn't like he had anything better to do, Ryan thought.

It had been so easy to admit to Zoe that neither one of them had many friends or much of a social life. It was more difficult to acknowledge to himself how empty that now made him feel. He shook his head and laughed at how pathetic his life was and had been for a long time. Something he could see clearly now, faced with her absence.

She'd given him purpose and laughter, and he longed for warmth and intimacy to fill the void she'd left behind. A void he hadn't before known existed.

The question was, could he ever get her back?

* * *

RYAN ARRIVED at his parents' home at 6:00 p.m. sharp. Instead of the help greeting him at the door, his mother welcomed him. "Hello, Ryan." She kissed him on the cheek.

"Mother." He glanced over her shoulder to see his father pouring drinks in the study. "This info rmality is interesting. What's going on?" he asked.

His father, who until now had avoided Ryan and any discussion of Sam's entry in their lives, stepped forward, bar glass in hand. "I can answer that. Your mother has spent the last couple of nights explaining our mistakes and convincing me we can do better with Sam than we did with your sister."




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