Home for Love by Ellen James

reached out a hand and gently cupped her chin. Now a sensual lassitude took her over, as if his touch could still all her fears of him. Her lips parted and her breath came on a slow, deep sigh.
    "We seem to have a problem," she managed to say. "This physical attraction—both of us…"
    "We ought to be able to work it out," Steven said. "We're two adults."
    "Two responsible adults," she agreed. She curled her fingers to keep them from reaching out to him.
    "So we won't take this any further," he said.
    "We did agree to be professional…" She raised her eyes slowly to his.
    "Dammit, Kate!" He bent his head and kissed her, his lips firm and demanding. She returned the kiss steadily, making her own demands.
    Then it was over. Steven lifted his head and stepped back from her.
    "There," he said.
    She widened her eyes. "Well. Now
that's
out of the way—" she began.
    "Don't you feel better?"
    She wouldn't admit it, but she did feel better. This time there was no sense of horrible rejection, no coldness afterward. It had been a most satisfying kiss, exquisitely complete in itself. How could Steven's lips tutor her in so many different emotions?
    She made herself speak in a calm, analytical manner. "We're going to ruin our business relationship," she said. "If we keep on this way, we won't be able to avoid it."
    "We can't deny the attraction between us," Steven answered, sounding equally reasonable. "That's what we've been trying to do and it's not working. Maybe we're more than business associates. Have you thought about that?"
    "We're not exactly friends, though," Kate said quickly. "We're more than acquaintances, of course, but I really do think 'associates' is the right term to describe us." She stopped, chagrined to find that Steven was regarding her with open amusement.
    "You have to put a label on it, don't you?" he asked. "You have to make sure all the limits are strictly defined so I don't get too close to you."
    "We both agreed on those limits," she said shakily. "We both agreed it would be a professional relationship, nothing more!"
    "Why are you so afraid of me, Kate?" His voice was gentle. "I don't want to hurt you. I just want us to be honest with each other." He reached out a hand to her but she backed away, folding her arms against her body.
    "All right, let's be really honest," she said, challenge in her voice. "Where do you see our relationship heading?"
    "I don't know," he said slowly. "That's the whole point, isn't it? There aren't any signposts along the way to tell us where we're going."
    "So you don't want to set any limits," Kate scoffed. "That's the best escape of all because it means you don't have to commit yourself to anything."
    "You're the one who's frightened, Kate. You behave as if any minute prison bars are going to come slamming down in front of your face. It shows in everything you do—the way you run your business—"
    "Oh, no, you're not going to start that again." Kate moved down the sloping yard and grasped the handle of the lawn mower. Steven followed her.
    "We have to talk about it," he said ominously. "I found your note asking for more money taped to the refrigerator. That was a nice touch."
    "I wanted to make sure you saw it as soon as possible."
    "I suppose you thought it would be easy to ask me for more money because you succeeded so well the first time. You want my help with no strings attached. It's another symptom of your fear that you'll lose control of your life."
    "I've had enough psychoanalysis for one day," she said, "though it's been very enlightening. Thank you for explaining to me that independence in a woman is something abnormal and neurotic."
    "You're deliberately misinterpreting what I say," he told her. "Gloria Nestor is an independent woman, and I admire that in her. But she knows how to use her independence."
    This was too much. Kate started pulling on the mower. She was angry, but most of all she felt wounded. Steven had compared her to Gloria and found her lacking. She