Of all the possibilities she might have considered, that one had never even occurred to her – and Cassie was more than a little surprised it had occurred to him. Slowly she said, "I think it's a little early to be talking about anything permanent, don't you? I mean, neither one of us was looking for any kind of commitment."

"Maybe not, but – "

"Ben, you know there's no maybe about it. I've been… shying away from people most of my life, and it's obvious you aren't ready for any kind of long-term commitment."

"How is it obvious?" Then he realized. "Oh. My walls."

It didn't take a psychic to see that the reminder disturbed him, and Cassie conjured a rueful smile. "We're still getting to know each other, still learning to trust. Let's give us time, Ben, okay? Time without… outside pressures like serial killers pushing us toward something we're not ready for yet. There's no hurry, is there?"

"I suppose not." He pulled her into his arms, smiling but with something of a frown lingering in his eyes. "As long as you don't intend to kick me out of your bed anytime soon."

"That," Cassie said, sliding her arms up around his neck, "was never part of my plan."

It was after dark when Ben woke in the lamplit bedroom to find himself alone. He got dressed and went downstairs, discovering Cassie in the living room. The smell of something good cooking wafted from the kitchen, and she was busy packing away the stacks of papers and journals that had lain on the coffee table for the past few days.

He paused for a moment in the doorway to watch her, conscious of a constriction in his chest and a cold knot of unease in the pit of his stomach. Had he made a mistake? His common sense had told him to wait, to be careful not to make demands, but other instincts had insisted that Cassie know how he felt.

Ben thought she cared for him. He thought that given her past and almost pathological reluctance to allow anyone even the most casual of physical contact, she would have been unable to accept him as her lover if she had not cared. If she had not trusted him at least partly. But he also knew that Cassie's past experiences with the dark violence of too many male minds made it almost impossible for her to completely trust a man, especially when she could not read him.

His damned walls.

She would not commit herself to him until she was sure of him, and his walls made that impossible. Even if he managed to pull the walls down, Ben wasn't sure it would bring Cassie to his side and his life for good. She had been alone for a long time, had convinced herself that being alone was the best way for her. Would she – could she – change her life so drastically by accepting him and all the people and responsibilities he would bring with him?

He didn't know.

Ben arranged his features to express pleasant companionship and went into the living room. "You abandoned me," he accused Cassie lightly.

She smiled. "I got hungry, sorry. Spaghetti. I hope you like it."

"Love it." He wanted to touch her but forced himself not to make his need for her so damned obvious. "What are you doing in here?"

"Packing away this stuff."

"I thought you were going to read the journals."

Cassie sent him a glance he couldn't interpret to save his life, and murmured, "Sometimes it's best not to know how things turn out."

"Are we talking about Alexandra?"

She looked at the journal in her hand, then added it to the other stuff in the box. "Of course."

He didn't think so but accepted what she said, wary of pushing her when she seemed so elusive. "Well, you can always read them later."

"Yes. Later." Cassie closed the box, then looked at him, smiling. "The sauce should be ready if you are."

"I'm ready."

He moved very carefully, wary of the dog's keen ears even with the noise of sleet and wind. Caution told him to stay back, but he wanted to get closer, close enough to see inside.

So cozy in there. A nice fire in the fireplace. Lights and the appetizing aroma of good food making the kitchen warm and snug. Quiet voices that were comfortable with each other and yet aware, the edges of their words blurred with longing, with hope and uncertainty and fear.

They were completely wrapped up in each other.

They were oblivious of his watching eyes.

He stood outside, his collar turned up and hat pulled low to protect his face from the stinging sleet. It was cold. The ground was frozen, and his feet were cold inside the thin shoes. But he remained where he was for a long time, watching.

She hadn't understood. All his work, and she hadn't understood.

Hadn't understood he had done it all for her.

But she would.

Soon.

MARCH 2, 1999

"So much for time off," Ben said, knotting his tie as Cassie lay in bed, watching him. "Trust Judge Hayes to make me come back to work."

"Well, he's right," she said. "Now that Mike Shaw has a lawyer, and most of the evidence has been collected from his house, it's time for you to go to work."

"Do you have to be so reasonable?" Ben came to sit on the edge of the bed, smiling down at her. "I'm being driven out of a very warm bed on a very cold morning, and I intend to bitch about it."

She reached up to touch his face in one of those hesitant little gestures that always stopped his heart. "The warm bed will be here waiting for you when you get back. That is – "

"Oh, I'm definitely coming back," he assured her.

"For lunch if I can manage it. By five if I can't. Either way, I'll bring takeout. Any preferences?"

"No. I'm easy to please."

"Yes," he said, bending to kiss her, "you are. Try to go back to sleep, love. I'll take Max out and feed him before I leave. See you later."

Cassie listened to the faint sounds of his leaving, then curled up with her arms wrapped around his pillow and breathed in the faint scent of him that clung to the linen. Already he was marking his presence in her life. Her bed smelled of him, and the scent of his aftershave lingered in the room. His toiletries were on the bathroom counter beside hers. One of his shirts lay across the chair in the corner.

Something permanent?

She shied away from thinking about that because it was so astonishing and potentially wonderful – and she didn't trust the possibility of it. Her life had taught her that wonderful things simply did not happen to her, and she had learned to eye happy surprises with suspicion.

There was always a catch.

But until she discovered what that was, Cassie just wanted to enjoy the moment, to luxuriate in contentment. She was in a warm bed where a warm man had lain beside her all night, and every muscle in her body was blissfully weary.

He was a very… passionate man.

Smiling to herself as she remembered that passion, Cassie drifted off to sleep.

When the ringing woke her, she thought it was her alarm, and peered at the nightstand resentfully. But then the phone rang again, and she pulled herself across the bed to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Cassie, will you please tell Ben to get his ass over here?" Matt requested in a harassed voice. "That damned defense lawyer made some phone calls on his way here, and now I'm hip-deep in the media. The national media. I don't want to talk to them, that's Ben's job, dammit."

She reached to turn the clock toward her, and a cold hand closed around her heart. "Matt… he left here more than two hours ago."