The observations of a child can knock you flat before you even know what's coming. My heart twisted with guilt, pain, and worst of all, hope.

I leaned over her and kissed her very gently. "Don't expect anything, baby," I whispered. "We'll just be patient and see what happens."

Churchill, Vivian, Gretchen, and her date were having cocktails in the family room before they left. We'd had to send Churchill's tuxedo pants to the tailor, to put Velcro seams in on the side he wore the cast. Vivian had been entertained by the idea of the rip-off pants, claiming she felt like she was dating a Chippendale dancer.

As I came downstairs and stepped out of the elevator, I found Gage waiting for me. Magnificent man. all elegance and testosterone contained in a scheme of flawless black and white. Gage wore a tux like he did everything else, looking relaxed and unselfconscious.

He stared at me with a faint smile. "Liberty Jones.. .you look like a princess." Taking my hand carefully, he raised it to his lips and pressed a kiss into the cup of my palm.

This wasn't me. It was far removed from any reality I had ever known. I felt like the young girl I had once been, the one with the frizzy hair and the big glasses, watching a beautifully dressed woman who wanted to be in the moment, to enjoy it. but wasn't quite able. And then I thought, Damn it all, I don't have to be an outsider.

I deliberately leaned the front of my body against Gage's, watching his eyes darken. "Are you still aggravated with me?" I asked, making him smile ruefully.

We had argued earlier in the day about Christmas, which was coming soon. It had started when Gage had asked what kind of present I wanted.

"No jewelry," I had said instantly. "Nothing expensive."

"Then what?"

"Take me out for a nice dinner."

"All right. Paris or London?"

"I'm not ready to take a trip with you."

That had produced a frown. "What's the difference between sleeping with me here or sleeping with me in a hotel in Paris?"

"A fortune, to start with."

"This has nothing to do with money."

"To me it does." I'd said apologetically. "It doesn't matter that you're one of those people who never has to think about money. Because I do. So for me to let you spend so much on me.. .it would throw everything off balance. Don't you see?"

Gage had gotten more and more irritated. "Let me get this straight. You're saying you'd

go somewhere with me if we both had money, or if neither of us had it."

"That's right."

"That's stupid."

"You can say that because you're the one with the money."

"So if you were dating the UPS guy: he could buy you whatever the hell he wanted. But I can't."

"Well...yes." I gave him a cajoling smile. "But I'd never date the UPS guy. Those brown shorts are just not a turn-on for me."

He hadn't smiled back. His calculating gaze had made me uneasy, with good reason. I knew Gage well enough to be certain that when he wanted something, he would find a way over, around, or through all obstacles. Which meant he wouldn't be satisfied until he had found a way to separate my working-class feet from American soil.

"When you think about it." I'd said, "it's actually a good thing, my wanting to take the money out of this... this..."

"Relationship. And you're not taking the money out of it. You're putting it right in the middle."

I had tried to sound as reasonable as possible. "Look, we've only just started seeing each other. All I'm asking is that you don't buy me extravagant presents or try to arrange some big expensive trip." Seeing his expression, I added reluctantly. "Yet."

The "yet" had seemed to pacify Gage a little. But his mouth had retained a hint of

brooding.

Now, as he held me in a light clasp, I saw his usual self-control had returned. "No, I'm not aggravated," he said calmly. "Travises like a challenge."

I didn't know why the touch of arrogance, which used to annoy me, had become so absurdly sexy. I grinned at him. "You can't always have things your way, Gage."

He eased me closer, the heel of his hand brushing the side of my breast. An intimate whisper that kicked my heart into a new, urgent beat. "I will tonight, though."

"Maybe," I said, my breath quickening.

One of his hands ran down my back in a restless stroke, as if he were contemplating ripping the dress off me right there. "I can't wait for this damn party to be over with."

I laughed. "It hasn't even started yet." My eyes half closed as I felt his mouth searching the side of my throat.

"We'll have our own party in the limo."

"Aren't..." I caught my breath as he found a sensitive nerve. "Aren't we going to share it with Churchill and the others?"

"No, they've got their own." Gage lifted his head, and I saw the bright, hot flicker in his eyes. "Just you and me," he murmured. "Behind a nice dark privacy screen. And a bottle of chilled Perrier Jouet. Think you can handle it?"

"Bring it on." I said, and took his ami.

Limos were parked three deep on the street outside the Legrand mansion. The building was remarkable in its scale and style; it seemed more a place for people to visit than to actually live in. I started having fun the moment we entered the grand foyer, which seemed like some elaborate European carnival. The crowd of men dressed in black formal wear were a perfect backdrop for the women's colorful evening gowns. Jewels glittered at throats and wrists and fingers and ears, and light scattered like falling jewels from the overhead chandelier. Music from a live orchestra was piped into every part of the house.