"Hmmm."

"If you ever do decide to leave the force, you definitely have a marketable skill here."

"Flattery, my dear, will get you....never mind."

He pressed on her back and got a satisfying groan from her. Harry marveled at her tiny form; the fine bones of her arms, the graceful curve of her delicate spine. She seemed absolutely fragile beneath him and he silently thanked God for making women.

"Diane, I would like to apologize for my lack of hospitality earlier."

"You were tired, Harry. It's all right."

"No, I was jealous. Childish."

She was surprised at his confession, but now understood he mysterious appearance of Mr. Hyde. All the days apart had taken as much a toll on him as his illnesses, and she had completely blocked it out. Who would have thought that Harry Denby needed anyone?

Her bra strap kept getting in the way, so he began to unfasten it. When she flinched, he leaned down, brushed the hair back from her ear and asked, "May I?"

"Yes," and Diane knew it was time to make some confessions of her own.

More than anything, Diane found it difficult to talk about her past, and the problems it caused with her ability to trust and be totally intimate. Every time she tried to talk about it with Bobby, she became almost paralyzed. They would make love, but she was unable to fully let go of the demons that haunted her. She had settled for safety in his arms, and hoped it would be a substitute for the abandoned passion she knew she would never experience.

For some reason, Harry's ability to get under her skin, had infused her with a strange and unfamiliar courage. He stirred her up and could make her spitting mad, or drunk with desire. Something inside her nagged away, telling her to try, and she jumped.

"Harry, some things are really difficult for me."

He found it hard to believe that Diane Russell lacked either bravery or strength in anything, but the slight tremble in her voice caused him to listen in rapt attention as he stroked her shoulders.

"I've been hurt in the past and... sometimes it gets in the way of the present."

Harry tried not to change the rhythm of his massage, but his mind jumped to a hundred conclusions at once. How had she been hurt, and by whom? Maybe she was referring to a failed romance...No, not that. He sensed it was worse. Much worse.