And yet, it wasn't the end because in only a little while, he was ready again. He took me to my bed and this time put me on my knees, leaning into me from behind. "I've heard the old women say this is the best position for conceiving a child," he whispered.

 I had only a moment to ponder this before he was in me again, still rough and demanding. I considered his words as he pumped away, that maybe he would be the one who gave me a child after all, not Kyriakos. The realization made me feel strange, eager yet regretful.

 Aristonfelt no such regret when we lay back on the blankets later in the afternoon, both of us exhausted and spent as warm sun spilled in over us through the window.

 "The lack could be in Kyriakos," he explained. "Not you. With as many times as I've had you today, you can't help but get pregnant." He sucked my earlobe and wrapped his arms around me from behind, letting his hands rest on my breasts. "I've filled you up, Letha."

 His voice was low and proprietary, like he'd just gained something more tangible than sex. Suddenly I wondered who really did have the power in the bedroom after all.

 I lay against him, wondering what I had done and what I wanted to do now. How did one go back to being a wife after being someone else's goddess? I never got to decide, however, because the next thing I heard was Kyriakos calling me from the front of the house, home too early. Ariston and I both sat up, startled. My fingers fumbled as I tried to get the blankets off me, tangling in the fabric. My dress. I needed to find my dress. But it wasn't here, I realized. I'd left it in the other room. Maybe, I thought desperately, I could get to it before Kyriakos found us. Maybe I could move fast enough.

 But it turned out I couldn't.

 In the present, all I said to Seth was: "Yeah. It didn't work out. Not at all. I cheated on him."

 "Oh." A pause. "Why?"

 "Because I could. It was stupid."

 "That's why you don't date?"

 "Everything about that hurt too much. No good justified the bad."

 "You can't know that the next one will turn out badly. Things change."

 "Not for me." I closed my eyes to hide the tears welling up. "I'm going to pass out now."

 "Okay."

 He might have left or he might have stayed; I didn't know. I simply slept, lost in black, numbing sleep.

 CHAPTER 15 

 Sometimes you wake up from a dream. And sometimes, every once in a while, you wake up in a dream. That's what happened to me. I opened my eyes, head throbbing, vaguely aware of something warm and fuzzy in my arms. Bright sunlight made me squint at first, but when I could finally focus, I realized I was looking straight into the faces of Cady and O'Neill.

 I shot upright, a motion my head did not approve of at all. Surely I was mistaken. Surely, no... there they were. Before me, next to the bed I sat in, was a large oak desk surrounded by bulletin boards and white boards. Pinned to the bulletin boards were magazine cutouts, faces and faces of people who reflected every nuance of the characters described in Seth's books. One section was even labeled NINAcady, displaying at least twenty different cutouts of slim blondes with cropped, curly hair, while another section—marked BRYANT O'NEILL—displayed brooding, thirty-something men with dark hair. Some of the cutouts were from major ads I recognized, though I'd never before connected the resemblance to Seth's characters. Other minor characters from the books also had places on the display, though less noticeably so than the leads.

 Scrawls of notes and words filled the white boards, most done in a bizarre shorthand type of flow chart that made no sense to me. Working Title: Azure Hopes — fix later; Add Jonah Chap. 7; Clean up 3-5; C&O in Tampa or Naples? Check stats; Don Markosin 8...On and on the scrawls went. I stared and stared at them, realizing I was seeing the skeleton foundation of Seth's next novel. Part of me whispered I should look away, that I was ruining something, but the rest of me was too fascinated at glimpsing the way a novel and its world came to life.

 Finally, the smell of frying bacon made me turn from Seth's desk, forcing me to piece together how I'd arrived here. I cringed, recalling what an idiot I'd been around Doug, Roman, and even Seth, but my hunger won out in temporarily allaying my remorse. It seemed odd that I should feel hungry after what I'd put my stomach through last night, but like Hugh's beating, I could bounce back quickly.

 Disentangling myself from the covers and the teddy bear I'd unknowingly been holding, I made my way to the bathroom to rinse my mouth and study my appearance: wild-haired and downright adolescent looking in the T-shirt. I didn't want to waste the energy to shape-shift, however, and trotted out of the bathroom, following the sounds of sizzling against a background of "Radar Love" by Golden Earring.

 Seth stood in a modern, well-lit kitchen, tending a skillet on a stove. The color scheme was bright and cheery, maple wood cupboards and beams accented with cornflower blue paint on the walls. Seeing me, he turned down the music and gave me a solicitous look. His shirt today displayed Tom and Jerry.

 "Good morning. How are you feeling?"

 "Surprisingly well." I made my way to a small, two-person table and sat down, tugging the shirt to cover my thighs. "My head seems to be the only casualty thus far."

 "You want something for it?"

 "No. It'll clear up." I hesitated, detecting something through the smell of salty, greasy meat. "Is that... coffee?"

 "Yup. Want some?"

 "Regular?"

 "Yup." He walked over to a pot, poured a mug of steaming coffee, and brought it to me, along with a cute sugar and creamer set.

 "I thought you didn't drink this stuff."

 "I don't. I just keep it on hand in case caffeine-crazed women wake up in my bed."

 "That happen a lot?"

 Seth smiled mysteriously and returned to the stove. "Are you hungry?"

 "Famished."

 "How do you like your eggs?"

 "Over hard."

 "Nice choice. You want bacon too? You're not a vegetarian or anything?"

 "I'm an honest carnivore. I want the works... if that's not asking too much." I felt kind of sheepish about him waiting on me, considering everything else he'd already done. He didn't appear to mind.

 The works turned out to be more than I'd imagined: eggs, bacon, toast, two kinds of jam, coffee cake, and orange juice. I ate it all, thinking about how jealous Peter would be, still confined to his low- carbdiet.

 "I'm in a food coma," I told Seth afterward, helping with the dishes. "I'll need to go back to bed and sleep it off. Do you eat like this every day?"

 "Nah. Just when aforementioned women are hanging out. It ensures they don't leave too quickly."

 "Not a problem, considering this is all I have to wear."

 "Not true," he told me, pointing toward his living room. Looking up, I saw my dress—clean—hanging on a hanger. The sheer, bikini-cut panties I'd worn under it had been looped around the hanger's head. "It said dry-clean, but I took a chance on putting it on extra-gentle cycle in the wash. It came out okay. So did the, uh, other thing."

 "Thanks," I replied, unsure as to how I felt about him washing my underwear. "Thanks for everything. I really appreciate what you did for me last night—you must think I'm a total freak—"

 He shrugged. "It's no problem. But"—he glanced at a nearby clock—"I may need to run out on you soon. Remember that one party? It starts at noon. You can still hang out here."

 I turned to the same clock. Eleven forty-seven.

 "Noon! Why didn't you wake me up sooner? You'll be late!"

 He shrugged again, infinitely unconcerned. "I figured you needed the sleep."