The Wizard of Seattle by Kay Hooper

controlling my sleeping mind.”
    “I will, never fear.”
    “I’ll look forward to that. It wasn’t exactly pleasant to find myself in some kind of bordello.”
    A faint sound came from him, an indrawn breath that was muted evidence of growing strain, and anger flickered in his black eyes. “It was not a bordello.”
    “No?”
    “No. But whatever it was is none of your business. I don’t have to justify myself or my actions to you, Serena. Aside from teaching you what you came here to learn from me, I have no obligation to you. None.”
    She was glad the door behind her lent some support, because she definitely needed it. Every clipped word he uttered stabbed at her. It had been bad enough before, but this was so hurtful, she could hardly breathe. No obligation? And no interest in her, his tone said that, as well.
    The nine years they had spent together apparently counted for nothing.
    “I see.” The words were hardly more than a whisper, and she fought to shore up her composure, to save a bit of her self-respect. “You’ll … have to forgive me. It seems I’m guilty of presumption, at the very least.”
    She felt behind her for the door handle, and held on to that for balance as she straightened and turned to leave.
    “Serena.”
    Looking at him right now was impossible, but she went still, waiting.
    “I didn’t mean that.” His voice was low.
    She was very much afraid he had meant every word. “No, I needed the reminder,” she said as evenly as she could manage. “You’re right—your only obligation to me is what I asked for in the beginning, what you agreed to. Anything else is … anything else is completely inappropriate. I know that; I’ve known all along.” She told herself fiercely to shut up, to stop making her pain so damned
obvious
.
    “Serena, there are things you don’t understand.Things I can’t explain to you.” His voice was unquestionably strained now. “Some boundaries mustn’t be crossed; the penalties are … too great. What we are, you and I, is precisely defined. It has to be.”
    She turned her head slowly and looked at him. Even through her pain she could sense his tension, see it in every line of his body. And there was something leaping at her out of his eyes, some intense emotion she couldn’t interpret and that she had never seen before. She didn’t completely understand what he was saying, but the gist of it seemed clear enough; the barriers separating them were not to be crossed.
    “Yes, of course,” she said almost politely, still clinging to the shreds of her dignity. “Everything has to have a clear definition; I know that. Because control is so important when dealing with power. Vital, really. So you’re a Master wizard, and I’m your Apprentice. And that’s all.”
    A muscle tightened in his jaw. “Anything else … anything more is impossible, Serena.”
    After a long moment she repeated, “Yes, of course,” then added gravely, “I apologize for intruding into your personal life. It won’t happen again.” Quickly, she slipped from the room, closing the door behind her.
    Merlin drew a slow, deep breath, trying to ease the constricted sensation in his chest. It didn’t really work, which didn’t surprise him; he had been conscious of that odd tightness for a long time now. It had been an ever-present feeling for months at least. Before that it had been an erratic thing, something of which he had been aware only occasionally.
    He remembered clearly when he had first felt a hint of the strange sensation. Serena had been with him about three years then, and they had been totally immersed in study most of that time. But he had taken her out to dinner one night, and looking at her across the table, he had been jolted to realize she was wearing lipstick.
    Such a small thing, and the sudden squeezing inside his chest had been fleeting, easily forgotten. Until the next time he had glimpsed some sign that the raggedurchin he had taken into his home and