Donovan's Child by Christine Rimmer Page A

situation, may view what happened to me when I fell down the mountain as a tragedy, blow it up all out of proportion to the reality, which is that I survived and I’m learning to live in my body as it is now.”
    She couldn’t let that stand. “But Donovan, you’re not learning to live, not in the truest sense. You’re still…angry and isolated. You have Olga turn people away at the front door, people who care about you, people whohave to be suffering, wondering what’s going on with you.”
    He grunted. “Since you don’t even know who those people are, how would you know that they’re suffering?”
    â€œYou turn them away without even seeing them. That’s just plain cruel. And on top of all the rest, you never intend to work again. That is a crime.”
    â€œDon’t exaggerate.”
    â€œI’m not exaggerating. It is a crime, as far as I’m concerned. It’s not right. Work is important. Work is…what we do.”
    â€œWe?” He tried really hard to put on an air of superiority.
    She wasn’t letting him get away with that. “Yes, we. People. All people. We work. We all need that. Purposeful activity. Especially someone like you, who is the absolute best at what he does.”
    â€œYou’re going too far.” His voice was low, a rumble of warning. “Way too far. You have no idea what I need. What I have to do.”
    â€œWell, all right. Then tell me. Explain it to me.”
    â€œLet it go, Abilene.”
    â€œBut I want—”
    He cut her off. “What you want. Yes. All, right. Let me hear it. You tell me what you want.”
    â€œI want to understand.”
    He leaned in closer to her. His eyes were the dark gray of thunderheads. “Why?”
    â€œWell, I…” She was just too…aware of him. Of the scent of him that was turbulent, somehow. Fresh and dangerous, like the air before a big storm.
    He prodded her. “Answer me.”
    â€œBecause I…” She couldn’t go on. All at once, sherealized she wasn’t sure. Not of what she really wanted. And certainly not of what was actually going on here.
    â€œLeave it alone,” he said low. And then he wheeled away from her, swinging the chair effortlessly around the jut of her drafting table and out into the room. Halfway to his own desk, he spun on her again. “Will you just leave it now?”
    She stared across the distance between them. And for no reason she could fathom, she felt her face flood with heat. And she felt guilty, suddenly. Guiltier even than when he told her that Ben had gone. She felt thoroughly reprehensible now, as if she’d been sneaking around somewhere she had no right go to, peering into private places, touching secret things.
    â€œAll right,” she said, the words ragged-sounding, barely a whisper. “I’ll leave it alone. For now.”
    â€œLeave it alone once and for all. Please.” He waited for her to say that she would.
    But she didn’t answer him. She gave him no agreement, no promise that she would cease trying to learn about him, to understand him.
    She couldn’t make that kind of promise.
    She couldn’t tell that kind of lie.

Chapter Five
    D onovan needed distance.
    The painful conversation in the studio the morning that Ben quit was too much. He never should have let that happen between him and Abilene, and he set about making sure that nothing like it would happen again.
    During work hours, he took care to set himself apart from her, to be only what he actually was to her: a teacher, the one who had set himself the task of helping her accomplish her goal. She was in his house for one reason—to get the design for the children’s center ready to be presented to the Help the Children Foundation.
    He was not her friend, he reminded himself repeatedly. They were not equals. She had a task to accomplish with his guidance. And that was all.
    She