“And this way,” he said, still grinning, “I didn’t have to remember to bring along a corkscrew.” He quickly unsealed the wrapping and popped the cork, pouring Sophie’s glass first and then his. “Shall we make a toast?”

  “Sure.” She had to think fast. She didn’t want him to propose something uncomfortable. “Why don’t we drink to New Fonteney and the new cooking school.”

  “All right,” he said, adding, “and to our time here this afternoon. May it be something we always remember.”

  They clicked their glasses.

  After taking a sip, Nathan set his glass down. “This is wonderful, isn’t it? A peaceful setting, fabulous food, and a beautiful woman to enjoy it with.”

  Sophie blushed. Hoping he hadn’t noticed, she said, "I haven’t seen any of that fabulous food yet.”

  “Well,” he said, lifting out a series of packages wrapped in white paper, “it’s not fried chicken and potato salad — not that I’ve got anything against that great American fare — but this seemed like more fun.”

  Watching him unwrap each item, Sophie was treated to an array of soft cheeses, some thinly sliced prosciutto, a wedge of duck terrine, and a special German wunderwurst — braunschweiger studded with pistachios. Next appeared thick, fragrant onion rolls and several varieties of French and German mustards. Then an assortment of fresh fruit, all cut and ready to eat: peaches, a honeydew melon, strawberries, and kiwis. And finally a cold Provencal ragout of vegetables.

  “No dessert?” she asked, looking disappointed.

  By the gleam in his eyes, she could tell he’d saved the best for last.

  “As I recall, you like chocolate.”

  “You know I do.”

  He lifted a small covered dish out of the bottom. Removing the cover, he presented it to her. “A simple but elegant gâteau au chocolat. It has a brandy butter filling and a bittersweet glace frosting. You like?”

  Sophie’s mouth watered. “Why don’t we start with dessert first?”

  He laughed. “You haven’t changed a bit, you know that?”

  For the next hour, they sipped their champagne and ate their food, all the while reminiscing about the past. Occasionally, Sophie would hear the rumble of distant thunder, but Nathan ignored it completely. Nothing was going to ruin the day for him.

  Although the glow she felt was partly the wine, Sophie knew that most of it came from being with Nathan again. She couldn’t exactly ignore the sensations churning inside her. The more they talked, the more she realized she still had some disturbingly intense feelings for him. And yet she loved Bram, too. She’d allowed herself to be coaxed into an untenable situation. Glancing at Nathan, she saw that he’d grown quiet, and wondered if he felt as unsettled as she did.

  “Are you happy?” she asked finally. She had to know.

  He picked up her hand and brought it to his lips. “At this moment, completely. Just don’t wake me, okay?”

  She smiled. “No, Nathan. I mean, are you happy with your life?”

  “Sure.”

  “You don’t sound all that convinced.”

  He shrugged, then wiggled his eyebrows. “It’s nothing a fast car and a beautiful blonde couldn’t cure.”

  “Come on, don’t flirt. Answer me. Truthfully.”

  The light seemed to drain from his eyes. “I love my job.”

  “Your job isn’t your life.”

  “Funny, for years I thought it was.” He poured the last of the champagne into their glasses. After a moment he asked, “Do you know what a frustrated system is, Sophie?”

  “I’ve never heard the term.”

  “Well, it’s a matrix of sorts, a mathematical system in which the elements or the relationships, or both, are defined in such a way that all of the conditions for harmonious existence can never be met.”

  “Ah, okay. You want to explain that a little more clearly?”

  He lifted his glass and studied the champagne’s color. “My life is a frustrated system, Soph. I need three specific elements in it to feel whole, but at any one time I can only have two.”

  She nibbled a piece of cake. “You’re going to have to be more specific. I don’t really get it.”

  “All right.” His eyes narrowed. “I can’t be close to my family, be happy, and have a conscience all at the same time. I can have any two, but not all three.”

  Sophie frowned in thought. “So which one have you given up?”

  A crack of thunder followed by a bright flash of lightning interrupted his answer.

  Looking up at the sky, Nathan said, “I think I may have been wrong about that storm.” He scrambled to his feet, dumping the dregs of their food into the basket.

  A sudden gust of wind picked up the blanket and tossed it down the grassy slope.

  “I’ll get it,” called Sophie, reaching it just as the first rain began to fall.

  “Come on,” he shouted as another bolt of lightning split the sky. “Let’s head for the main hall.”

  Grabbing her backpack, Sophie followed him. It was a good half-mile to the vine-covered building. They traveled as fast as they could, hopping over rocks and thrashing their way through sections of tall grass. The storm was bad and getting worse. In the distance, Sophie saw a flash of light. An instant later the trunk of a tree exploded, the main part toppling over. By the time they reached the side door, they were both soaked to the skin. Nathan felt around in his pocket for the keys, and after pressing one into the lock, they were inside.

  “Do I look as ridiculous as you do?” laughed Sophie, shaking the water from her clothes and hair like a wet dog.

  Just as they’d entered the building, the rain poured down in sheets. Daylight faded into darkness. Every few seconds lightning flashed and thunder wasn’t far behind. The storm was almost on top of them now.

  “I wish we had a radio,” said Nathan, rushing to one of the many windows that overlooked a graveled courtyard.

  It was warm outside, but the air inside the hall was cold. “This could easily turn into a tornado.” Sophie looked around, observing that the place was completely shut up. Nathan had been right about the timbering. It made the long, narrow, two-story room feel both solemn and grand, like a cathedral in miniature.

  “We’re going to be fine.” He moved toward her. “I just wish we had something to help us dry off. We could freeze to death in here.”

  Another crack of thunder caused Sophie to jump.

  Nathan put his arms around her. “Don’t worry, Soph. I won’t let anything hurt you … ever.”

  As she turned her face up to his, a curious thing occurred. She’d been talking nonstop all afternoon, but now she couldn’t think of a thing to say.

  “I love you,” he said softly. “I never stopped.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “God, I know.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  When he kissed her, she felt helpless to resist. To be in his arms again seemed so right. And yet she pulled back. “Nathan, we can’t.”

  “I know.” He turned away, the palm of his hand pressed hard against his forehead. Walking back to the window, he said, “We can’t get out of here until the storm lets up. This hall is connected to the living quarters. If I’m not mistaken, the brothers left a couple boxes behind. Maybe I can find a towel, a napkin. Anything we can dry ourselves off with.” He glanced at the stone fireplace in the corner. “I’ll get that going as soon as I come back. Will you be okay for a couple minutes?”

  “I’m fine.”

  He turned and looked at her, then disappeared through a door at the back.

  Sophie gazed down at her dripping clothes, feeling miserable. Utterly loathsome. How could she have let him kiss her? She should never have come. She had to get her bearings. Sitting down on a bare wood bench, she tried to shake off the feel of his mouth against hers.

  Nathan came back a few minutes later looking triumphant. “I found some tablecloths and a couple of the brothers’ cowls. We’ve got to get out of our wet clothes or we’ll catch pneumonia. Here,” he said, handing half of what he was carrying to her. “I’ll go back and get dressed in the living quarters. You can dry off here. Okay?”

  She nodded, hoping this wasn’t another mistake.

  “Get cracking. I want to start that fire ASAP.”

  Sophie waited until she was alone, then quickly peeled off her wet clothes, dried herself, and slipped the cowl over her head, tying the braided belt around her waist. It was a soft wool, a little scratchy but warm. The only problem was her feet. The fieldstone floor was like walking on ice.

  “Are you decent?” called Nathan a little while later, some of the natural humor back in his voice.

  Sophie thought it would be idiotic to make a joke out of her answer, considering the situation they were in. “I’m dressed, but my toes have turned to icicles.”

  “I’ve got just the answer to that.” He breezed into the room carrying a pair of thick white socks. “I found some for myself, too.”

  Sophie tried them on. “Hmm. About five sizes too big. But who’s counting?” The cotton felt warm and soft against her tingling feet.

  “Now,” said Nathan, opening a wooden box next to the fireplace. “Hey, we’re in luck. They left some logs and even some kindling.” In just a few short minutes, the fire blazed. Nathan spread a blanket he’d found in the living quarters on the floor in front of the open hearth and they both sat down to dry their hair. “Thunderstorms don’t last long. This one should be over soon.”

  She nodded, feeling chilled to the bone. Glancing sideways at him, she said, “The fire feels good.”

  “It smells good, too. I think it’s applewood. I love smoking ribs over an applewood fire.”

  “Makes we wish we had some ribs.”

  He laughed. “You could eat again so soon after our picnic?”

  “It might help us warm up.”

  He gave her a concerned look. “Not to worry. I’ve got just the thing.” He jumped up to find the picnic basket. After removing a bottle Sophie hadn’t seen before, he came back and sat down. “Cognac,” he said, pulling out the cork. “Sorry, I don’t have a clean glass. You’ll just have to drink from the bottle. It’ll give you that special ‘wino’ feeling we all know and love.”

  She shot him a nasty look. She felt as if the champagne she’d drunk earlier had left her system during their mad dash to the main hall, so the cognac did sound appealing.

  Nathan held the bottle out to her. “Come on, it will warm you clear to your toes. Since I’m the designated driver, it’s all yours.”

  Gingerly, she took a sip. And then another. It did feel good going down. Relaxing. Calming. She hadn’t realized how tense she’d become.

  “One more,” said Nathan.

  She didn’t feel like arguing, so she took another swallow.

  “Good. That should do it.” He pushed the cork back into the bottle, then set it aside. “Better?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  He took hold of her hands. “Sophie, you’re shivering.”

  When she looked into his eyes, she saw that he’d guessed the truth. She wasn’t shivering from the cold but from being so close to him again. She could control her intellect but not her emotions. Her body simply wasn’t cooperating.

  Nathan gently put his arm around her, tipping her head back and kissing her again, this time with less urgency and far more tenderness. The kiss seemed to last forever. They lay back against the blanket, lost to everything but themselves.

  “Sophie,” he whispered finally, his lips close to her ear, “I know you love your husband. I don’t want to interfere with that, but can’t we have today? Aren’t we due something after all these years?”

  She had no answer.

  “I just want to forget about everyone and everything and —” His mouth found hers again, this time more passionate, more searching.

  Even though an important part of her didn’t want this to happen, she could feel her body responding. He’d already unzipped her cowl and slipped his hand inside, caressing her breasts, her bare skin. She moaned softly in his arms. “Nathan, we can’t.”

  “I want you, Sophie. So badly.” His lips traveled down her neck, nibbling, biting, exploring.

  It was like a dream. The fire. The strange building. The feel of him against her again. It seemed like they’d never been apart.

  Suddenly, without warning, Nathan stopped and rolled away from her. “No” was all he said.

  Sophie looked up at the wood timbers, feeling flushed and confused, her body still trembling from his touch. Closing her eyes, she knew he was right. She was glad he’d stopped because she wasn’t sure she would have stopped him. But even so, she still didn’t understand. “What’s wrong, Nathan?”

  He sat up, hugging his knees to his chest. “If we do this, you’ll hate me. Not today maybe. But later. You won’t be able to look me in the eye ever again.”

  “That’s not true. I wouldn’t hate you. But I might hate myself.”

  “It’s all the same. I don’t want any of those feelings between us because I’ve made a decision.”

  The ominousness of this pronouncement made her sit up. “What?”

  “I want you, Sophie. Not just for a few horns but forever.” He held up his hand. “I know you’re married, but you didn’t know I was free when you married the guy. Now that we’ve found each other again, I’m not leaving. I’m staying in your life until you realize you love me more than you love what’s-his-name.”

  “Bram.”

  “Right.” He stared at her. “Well? Say something.”

  “Do I have any choice in the matter?”

  “Of course you do. You have the ultimate decision.”

  “If I asked you to leave me alone — now, today — would you?”

  He dropped his head against his knees. After a long moment he said, “Yes.” Looking up at her again, he added, “Is that what you’re asking?”

  She felt as if her emotions were being torn into a million pieces. She was a middle-aged woman, for God’s sake. Her life should be stable. She shouldn’t have to make decisions like this. She couldn’t make a decision, not here, not now.

  “Well?”

  “I don’t know, Nathan. I don’t know what I want.” And that scared her, more than she could say.

  “You’re telling me I have a chance then?”

  “I’m telling you that I don’t know.”

  “That’s enough. For now.”

  Maybe he was happy with her response, but she wasn’t Glancing at the windows, she realized she’d barely looked outside since they’d come in from the storm.

  “It’s stopped raining,” said Nathan, following her gaze to the courtyard.

  “We can go.”

  He nodded.

  She didn’t get up. “It’s like … you’ve just turned my life upside down, like you’ve dumped all my precious treasures out on the ground and then stomped on them.”

  “You’re saying you’d rather have my memory than me?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I would.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, covering her hand with his. “You’ve complicated my life, too. But I don’t think either of us can turn our back on what just happened. We have to find a way through this, whatever happens.”

  She knew he was right, but she wasn’t any less confused.

  As she rose to find her clothes and stuff them in her backpack, her cell phone rang. “What time is it?” She’d taken off her watch when she was drying off.

  “Ten after five.”

  “My God. I had no idea it was that late.” Stepping over to her backpack, she retrieved the phone and clicked it on. “This is Sophie.”

  “Where the h… are…”

  “Bram? Is that you?”

  “You’re break … up … can’t under … aying …”

  Damn. With everything that had happened last night, she’d forgotten to recharge the battery. She checked the warning light. Sure enough, it was low. “The battery’s going,” she said slowly, hoping he’d catch some of it.

  Static. Then,”… get home right…”

  “I should come home?”

  More static. “Harry Hon … for Gil… murder.”

  “What? Say that again?”

  “Arrested! Harry …” The rest was unintelligible. “Where are you … waiting since fo … ids ben … night.”

  “I’m not picking you up. Harry was arrested?”

  “… es. This … diculous … Are … with Natha …”

  “Yes, Nathan’s here. We’re fine.”

  “… home!”

  “I got that. I’ll be back in forty-five minutes.” She shut it off.

  “Sounds like we’d better get going,” said Nathan, tying the shoelaces on his still soggy hiking boots. “If you want to pick up in here, I’ll go get the car. It’s a good mile and a half, but I’m a pretty fast runner, especially if I don’t have to carry anything. I’ll drive around to the main gate. Go out the side door and around the front of the building. You’ll see it about fifty yards in front of you.” He got up, straightening his cowl. “I guess we’re going to make a real fashion statement when we get back to the hotel.”

  How was she going to explain that to Bram?

  “You gonna be okay while I’m gone?”

  “Just hurry, Nathan.”

  12

  Bram checked his reflection in the mirrored elevator just before the doors opened and he stepped off. For the last few hours, his impatience had been fighting with his concern and anger. Sophie had promised she’d be home by six. At least that’s what he thought he’d heard. The phone connection had been horrible. It was six-thirty now and she still wasn’t back. If she was forty-five minutes away, where had the two of them gone? It was supposed to be a lunch date, right? Not an all-day marathon.

  Against his better judgment, Bram pictured a secluded cabin in the woods, where Nathan Buckridge kept his back issues of Playboy, his king-size waterbed, and his sex toys. Shaking off the image, he felt a wave of disgust overwhelm him. Why hadn’t Sophie kept him better informed? He shouldn’t have to wait around while his wife was out on the town with her ex-squeeze.

  Entering the crowded lobby, his eyes swept the room. Still no sign of them. Bram had stuck around Sophie’s office until six — playing computer solitaire — then gone upstairs to get dressed for the AIDS benefit they were supposed to attend tonight. He hadn’t forgotten about it. He wondered if she had.