Beloved by Diana Palmer Page A

going home."
    "Come to Jacobsville with
me."
    "And into the jaws of death or kitchen
slavery?" she taunted. "I know all
about the biscuit mania. I'm not about to be captured by your loopy brothers."
    "They won't come near you," he promised.
"Corrigan's hired a new cook. She's redheaded and she can bake
anything."
    "She won't last two weeks before Leopold has her
running for the border," she assured him.
    It pleased him that she knew his brothers so well, that
she took an interest in his family. She and Corrigan had been friends and
occasionally had dated in the past, but there had been no spark between them. In fact, Charles Percy had always been in
the way of any other man and Tira . Why hadn't he noticed that before?

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    Beloved
    "You've been going around with Charles ever since
you left John," he recalled absently.
    "Charles is my friend," she said.
    "Friend," he scoffed, his eyes insulting.
"Is that what it's called these
days?"
    "You should know," she
returned. "What does Jill call it?"
    His eyes narrowed angrily. "At least she's honest
about what she wants from me," he replied.
"And it isn't my money."
    She shrugged. "To each his
own."
    He searched her face quietly. "You kissed me back
the other night."
    Her cheeks went ruddy and she looked away,
clutching her purse. "I have to go."                                                                     
    He was right behind her. He didn't touch her, but she
could feel the warm threat of him all down her
spine, oddly comforting in the chilly December air.
    "Stop running!"
    Her eyes closed
for an instant before she reached for the door handle. "We seemed to be friends once," she said in a husky tone. "But we weren't, not really. You only
tolerated me. I'm amazed that I went
through all those years so blind that I never saw the contempt you felt when you looked at me."
    " Tira ..."
    She turned, holding up a hand. "I'm not accusing
you. I just want you to know that I'm not
carrying a torch for you or breaking my heart
because you go around with Jill." Her eyes were lack luster and he realized with a start that she'd lost a lot
of weight in the past few months. She looked fragile, breakable.
    "What are you saying?" he
asked.
    "That I don't need you to pity me, Simon," she
said with visible pride. "I don't really
want a closer association with you, whatever
Jill says or you think. I'm rearranging my life. I've started over. I don't
want to go back to the way we were."
    He felt those words like a knife. She meant them. It was
in her whole expression.
    Diana Palmer                                                                                                      233
    "I see," he said quietly.
    "No, you don't," she replied heavily.
"You're sort of like a drug," she
mused. "I was addicted to you and I've been cured, but even small doses are dangerous to my recovery."
    His heart leaped. He caught her gaze and held it
relentlessly.
    “ What did you
say?"
    "You know what I mean," she returned.
"I'm not going to let myself become
addicted again. I have Charles and you have Jill. Let's go our separate ways and get on with our lives. I was serious about the pistol and the mouse, you know, it wasn't some
face- saving excuse. I never meant to kill myself
over you."
    "Oh, hell, I knew that."
    "Then why..."
    "Yes?"
    She
turned her purse in her hands. "Why do you keep engi neering situations where we'll be thrown
together?" she asked. "It
serves no purpose."
    His hand came out of his pocket and lifted to touch,
lightly, her upswept hair. She flinched and he
dropped his hand with a
    long sigh.
    "You can't forget, can you?" he asked slowly.
    "I'm trying," she assured him. "But every
time we're together, people speculate.
The newspaper stories were pretty hard to live down, even for me. I don't really want to rekindle