Terri's thoughts were in an uproar. "Terri is different, she'll be more understanding, especially after what she went through with Ian." Kate's words brought a myriad of memories floating through her mind: sobbing into her pillow at night as she listened helplessly to lan's moans of pain, a pain that no amount of morphine would ease; the sickly sweet smell of death in the house that had seemed to cling to everything, includ¬ing Terri herself, for months afterward; lan's loss of dignity as he grew so weak he had to have every little thing done for him, down to the most personal and humiliating task.

It had been torturous for Terri. But she knew it had been a thousand times worse for him, and she'd had to carry that burden too. She'd known that Ian wished it would all just end. He'd begged her many times to finish it for him, once he was too weak to manage it himself. Terri had resented that. If he had wanted to end it, why had he waited until he couldn't do it himself? Why wait until the weight rested on her shoulders, and she had to carry the guilt of not being able to do it for him? For Terri had borne a mountain of guilt. She'd felt guilty that it was he and not she, that she was healthy while he suf¬fered; that she couldn't save him; and ultimately, that she couldn't even end his suffering when he asked it of her.

More understanding, Kate had said? Yes, Terri un¬derstood. She knew exactly what Bastien would go through with whatever terminal illness he had, be¬cause it seemed to her that this was what they had been speaking of. The medicine, the blood, the IV stand, and the secrets all suddenly made sense. As did the medication that caused photosensitivity, and the fact that Bastien merely picked at his food most of the time, seeming to have no appetite. It was all so obvi¬ous now: Strong, handsome Bastien had a terminal illness. Terri understood. She understood how it would go, and it was always the same. Death was death, whether by Hodgkin's disease, breast cancer, or whatever Bastien was suffering. Terri knew this, and she hated the fact that he was going to suffer.

But she couldn't, she wouldn't go through it with him. It was impossible. She had thought suffering with her mother and Ian was bad. But Bastien? Watching that vital, strong, and handsome man fade to skin and bones? To see him become weak and lost to horrible pain? Having him beg her to end it for him as his body rotted away? It would kill her. Terri could not handle it. She knew she couldn't. And she was suddenly angry. So terribly angry. How dare he let her fall in love with him, knowing that he was dying? How dare he not tell her about his condition from the start, so that she might have guarded her heart and saved herself all the coming trauma? How dare he be sick on her? How dare he even consider dying? How dare he?

The bathroom filled with music and laughter as several women entered. Terri was aware of their chat¬ter, but didn't really hear it as her mind whirled under what she had just learned. She waited where she was until they left and silence filled the room again; then she let her feet back down, straightened her clothes and let herself out of the stall. She moved to the sink and stared at her reflection as she washed her hands, but didn't really see herself at first. Her mind was caught up in memories of Ian. But now, when she re¬called how Ian had lain moaning in bed at night, he had Bastien's face. When Ian begged her to end it all, it was Bastien speaking.

Movement drew her attention to her reflection, and Terri stared blankly at the tears running down her cheeks. She was crying, which seemed odd be¬cause she wasn't aware of feeling anything. In fact, her mind seemed rather numb. Yet there they were: tears leaking out of hollow eyes and coursing down her cheeks in little rivulets. She turned her attention to her face and noted that she was blanched of all color.

She couldn't go back to the wedding reception like this. She couldn't even allow anyone to see her this way. Turning the taps off, Terri contemplated the problem. She'd have to slip away. She felt bad about it, but it seemed the only option. She didn't want to ruin the day for her cousin and Lucern.

She dried her hands off, wiped the tears from her face, then moved to the door and slid out. Noise and color assaulted her at once. The reception was in full swing. No one noticed her standing by the bathroom door. Terri quickly judged the fastest and easiest route out of the hall, and then took it. Much to her amaze¬ment, she managed to escape without running into anyone who might have stopped her; and the few she passed whom she knew didn't seem to notice her.

Terri walked straight out of the reception hall and to the escalators rather than risk having to wait for the elevators. The moving stairs had been turned off for the night, but she walked down them quickly, crossed into and out of the lobby, and rushed straight out the front door of the hotel.

"Taxi, miss?" the doorman asked. Terri nodded. He blew his whistle, bringing the first waiting cab squealing into the driveway. It came to a halt in front of her, and the doorman opened the door. Terri mur¬mured a thank you as she got in.

"Where to, miss?"

Terri gave Kate's address and sat silent in the back¬seat, her mind blank. It stayed that way for the entire ride. It wasn't until the taxi pulled up in front of Kate's apartment building that Terri realized she didn't have a purse. It hadn't been necessary. Trans¬portation had all been taken care of for the wedding, the meal was paid for, so there had been no cause for her purse. Terri stared at the cabbie with a sort of horror as he turned to tell her the fare, then she sud¬denly went calm. "Can you drive me from here to the airport after I grab a bag?"

The cabbie looked surprised, then suspicious, then pleased at the large fare to come. He nodded. "Sure, lady."

"Wait for me. I'll just be a minute." She slipped out of the taxi before he could protest. Terri half expected him to jump out of the car and chase her to insist she pay for the fare, but some angel must have been looking out for her--the cabbie re¬mained in his cab as she lifted her skirt and jogged lightly up the steps to the front of Kate's apartment building.

Terri didn't have the key, though. Bastien had it, because he had a pocket in his suit, whereas she didn't have a pocket anywhere on her outfit. The plan had been that, once the reception was over, they would come collect her things, and she would stay with him for this, her last night in New York. He had said they needed to talk, and that he had something to ask her once the wedding was over. Terri, in her heart of hearts, had hoped that talk had something to do with love and their future together. Now she knew it was about death and dying.

With nothing else for it, she buzzed the landlord's apartment, now grateful that Kate had introduced her to the couple. It was the wife who answered, and Terri quickly explained that she had rushed back to the apartment to get something she'd left behind, but had thoughtlessly left her key at the wedding recep¬tion. The woman said she'd be right down to let her in. Terri knew the landlady could have buzzed her in from her apartment, but she supposed the old woman wanted to be sure it was her. Whatever the case, Terri resigned herself to waiting impatiently.

"There he is."

Bastien followed his mother's gesture to a booth in the back of the bar. Vincent and Lady Barrow sat, heads together, talking.

"Hmm. I wonder if we made it in time," Bastien muttered.

"There's only one way to find out." Marguerite Argeneau strode forward, leaving her sons to follow as she wove through the crowded bar.

"Aunt Marguerite!" Vincent got to his feet at once when she stopped at the table. "What are you do..." His voice trailed off and his mouth tightened as he spotted Bastien and Etienne.

"I think Lady Barrow has to go to the ladies' room," Marguerite announced, focusing her pene¬trating silver-blue eyes on the woman.

Lady Barrow gave a laugh. "Actually, no, I don't."

Marguerite blinked in surprise, then turned a glance on her sons. "Bastien"--she gestured to the woman--"fix it."

Bastien was so surprised that his inestimable mother hadn't been able to control Lady Barrow's mind, as she had so obviously just tried to do, that it took him a minute before he tried to do so himself. And he found it impossible to even read her mind, let alone slip into it. After a moment, trying, as Lady Barrow watched them all with growing confusion, Bastien glanced to his mother and shook his head.

"Etienne?" Marguerite asked, and her youngest son tried as well, only to shake his head after a moment.

"You have an... interesting family, Vincent," Lady Barrow said politely, and he abruptly stood.

"Please excuse me for a moment, Kathryn. I need a word with them." He excused himself, then took his aunt's arm and led her away from the table. Bastien and Etienne followed. Once they were far enough away to not be overheard, he turned on them with irritation. "I wasn't going to bite her. God, you people act like I'm some rabid dog, likely to go gnaw¬ing on every neck that goes by."

"Well, we knew you had to feed, Vincent," Mar¬guerite said. Her tone had changed and become soothing.

"I did that at dinnertime. I came up to the bar for a quick bite, then nipped back." He grinned evilly; then winked.

"Well, then, what are you doing up here now?" Etienne asked.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he asked in exasperation. "I'm talking to Kathryn. She's a fasci¬nating woman."

"You aren't going to bite her?" Bastien asked suspiciously.

"No, Bastien. I'm not going to bite her. I wouldn't go biting guests at Lucern's wedding."

"Well, how were we to know that?" Bastien snapped. "You bit my housekeeper."

"That was an emergency. I don't normally feed in my own home, or in the homes of relatives."

"You bit Chris, too," Bastien reminded him. "And that was after biting the housekeeper."

"I had barely sunk my teeth into Mrs. Houlihan when you guys interrupted. I was still weak. I couldn't hunt weak," he explained patiently. Then he added, "And, by the way, you're welcome."

"For what?" Bastien asked.

"For taking care of the housekeeper," he ex¬plained. "Meredith called upstairs one day, while you and Terri were off on one of your jaunts that first week, and I took the message. She had the address for where Houlihan was staying. I went and wiped her memory of what happened. And the memories of the two people she talked to. You won't have to worry about her anymore."

"Did you?" Bastien asked with surprise, then real¬ized the matter had completely slipped his mind. He hadn't been worried at all; he'd been too distracted with Terri. That could have been a bad thing. Details like that had to be kept track of and taken care of. It was a good thing Vincent had been on the ball. He was sincere when he said, "Thank you."

His cousin shrugged. "I caused the problem, I took care of it. Now." He glared at them all meaningfully. "Can I get back to my guest? She really is a fascinat¬ing woman."

"She certainly seems to have a strong mind," Mar¬guerite commented, glancing curiously over to where Lady Barrow sat.

"Yes, she does," Vincent agreed. "And now that you know the guests are all safe from ol' rabid Vin-cent, will you go back and enjoy Lucern's wedding?"

"I thought you came for something that little Katie left behind," the landlady said as Terri led the way into the apartment, collected her purse and already packed and waiting suitcase, then immediately turned around with them in hand.

"No." Terri paused in the hall as the woman locked the door behind them. "I'm sorry for the trouble. But I have to get to the airport, and I couldn't go back for the key."

"Oh, it's no trouble, dear. I just misunderstood," the woman assured her as they waited for the eleva¬tor. She looked Terri up and down. "Are you going to the airport dressed like that?"

Terri nodded silently.

"Are you all right?" The landlady was staring at her with concern now, and Terri was sure she must look terrible since crying her eyes out at the reception.

"I will be," she assured the woman quietly, though she wasn't at all sure it was true.

"Well, have a safe trip." The old woman said. Her concern was still obvious in her voice.

Terri thanked her, then hurried out as the elevator doors opened.

The cabby hopped from his car as soon as she came out the front door of the building. Terri could tell by his expression, as he hurried up the steps to take her suitcase, that he was relieved to see her. She guessed he hadn't been at all sure she would return, and sup¬posed the only reason for him to have taken a chance on her was how shattered she apparently looked.

Terri thanked him as he carried her case down, then slid into the backseat as he stowed her bag in the trunk.

"Which airport, miss?" he asked the moment he was back behind the wheel.

"JFK," she murmured, then leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

It was a long ride to the airport. Terri didn't sleep, though the taxi driver must have thought she was do¬ing so. She didn't think, either--she lay quiet and still, and merely was. Her mind was blank, her heart empty. Oddly enough, that state made the long jour¬ney to JFK pass quickly.

Terri dug the money out of her purse to pay the cabbie as he pulled up to the terminal. She gave it to him as he handed over her luggage; then walked into the airport and straight to the ticket desk.

There was some difficulty getting a flight. All of those leaving New York for England were earlier in the evening. The last to leave for Manchester was de¬parting even as Terri spoke to the ticket agent, but again her pale and shattered look helped; the woman went to herculean efforts to get her out of New York and on her way. Terri ended up with an incredibly long and circuitous route, flying to Detroit, transfer¬ring, flying to France, transferring again, then finally flying on to Manchester. Terri didn't care. She just wanted out of New York and to be on her way back home to her little cottage and her safe life.

She purchased her new tickets, canceled the old, and handed over her luggage. Terri then went to the washroom to change, only to realize she had handed over her suitcase and only had her hand luggage. It held nothing to wear. She walked right back out of the bathroom and surveyed the fashion stores avail¬able in Terminal One: Herme's, Ferragamo's, and American Clothier.

She managed to find a comfortable yet inexpensive outfit in Ferragamo's. After paying for it, she carried the bag with her through security, found her depar¬ture gate, went into the nearest washroom, and quickly changed out of her long gown. The pantsuit she'd purchased was nothing special, and Terri put her long, lavender dress in the Ferragamo's bag with relief. She'd drawn attention in the fancy gown, and she didn't really want people staring at her right now.

Stepping out of the stall, she moved to the row of sinks and set her carry-on and purse on the counter, then surveyed herself in the mirror. She looked like hell, of course. And there was very little she could do about it. Terri went through her carry on and applied some makeup, but it didn't hide the empty look in her eyes. She finally pulled out a pair of sunglasses and tried them, then decided they would draw as much attention as her hollow eyes. Taking them off, she dropped them in her bag and headed out to the waiting area.

She had a little less than two hours to wait. That seemed a long time, especially with the worry that someone at the reception might notice her missing and start looking for her. She suddenly considered that she probably should have left some message for Kate, so her cousin wouldn't waste time worrying about her on her wedding night.

Spotting a row of pay phones, she moved to them. Terri dropped fifty cents in, and dialed the hotel to leave a message with the desk. It was a cheerful, I'm-fine-and-at-the-airport, just-waiting-for-my-flight, have-a-great-honeymoon-and-I-love-you type of message. As if she wasn't doing something completely unexpected, leaving so abruptly and ahead of schedule. It was the best Terri could do.

She hung up, then picked up the phone again, only to pause and glance at her watch. It was the middle of the night in England. She couldn't call now; she'd wake Dave and Sandi up. Maybe she should wait and call them from France, she decided. Although that wouldn't give the couple much warning, or time, to get to the airport to meet her. Well, if they couldn't get there in time, she'd take a taxi. She couldn't really afford it, but such was life.

"Was she in there?" Bastien asked Rachel as she came back out of the ladies' room. He'd returned from taking care of Vincent, to find Kate missing. He had walked the reception hall several times in search of her, before giving up and asking Etienne's wife to step into the washroom and see if she was in there.

"No. Sorry, Bastien." His sister-in-law shook her head. "I checked every stall. There's no one in there at the moment at all."

Bastien frowned and turned to look around the hall. She had to be here somewhere. She couldn't have just disappeared.

"Perhaps she stepped outside for some fresh air," Etienne suggested, joining them with the drinks he'd gone to collect from the bar. "Here you go, darling."

"Thank you." Rachel took the drink her husband held out and took a sip. "Mmmm. A Bloody Mary. My favorite."

Bastien heard the comment, but he was already walking toward the exit. Etienne's suggestion that Terri might have stepped outside for some fresh air was a possibility that he hadn't considered. That was probably where she was, he assured himself. She was no doubt sitting out in front of the Hilton on the marble base--the place where they'd snogged like teenagers the night he'd taken her to The Phantom of the Opera.

He smiled to himself, relaxing at the memory. It was just coincidence that the wedding reception was being held at the same place they had enjoyed such a lovely end to a wonderful date. But it was a lovely co-incidence. This was the perfect spot for him to admit his love, and to have the talk he planned to have with her. Bastien was going to tell her he loved her, and. ask her to marry him, and if she admitted she loved him back, which he was pretty sure she did--at least, he hoped to God she did--then he would tell her everything. If all went as he hoped, he would take Terri back to the penthouse and turn her tonight. Then they could begin their lives together.

Of course, there was a possibility she would need some time to adjust to what he told her. It wasn't like he was announcing he was Catholic or something. She would have to adjust her whole way of thinking, her beliefs. He reconsidered: Perhaps he should only tell her the part about his loving her and wanting to marry her here at the hotel. She was staying at the penthouse tonight, since Kate would be off on her honeymoon. He would wait until he had her there, make slow passionate love to her, then explain about--

No, the penthouse was no good, Bastien realized suddenly. The entire family would be staying there, and Vincent hadn't been joking when he said that Terri was loud. The woman was as uninhibited in the bedroom as she was everywhere else. Though he sus¬pected she'd try to be quiet in the penthouse with his family there. Especially his mother. Bastien didn't want Terri feeling stifled. He liked her passion. Perhaps they could just stay at Kate's apartment.

By this time, Bastien had reached the exit to the Hilton. He pushed through the revolving door, then paused on the sidewalk, his eyes searching for Terri in her pale lavender dress. He frowned when he didn't see her. Where had she gone?

"Would you like a taxi, sir?"

"What?" Bastien glanced at the doorman distract¬edly. He started to shake his head, then paused to ask, "You haven't seen a woman out here in a long laven¬der gown, have you?"

The man hesitated. "Pretty? Long brown hair? Big green eyes?"

"That's her," Bastien said with relief. Finally, someone who had seen her.

"Yes, sir. I put her in a taxi about half an hour ago."

"A taxi?" Bastien echoed stupidly.

"Yes, sir."

Bastien stood for a moment, bewildered. Why would she have gone in a taxi? Why would she leave the wedding reception at all? He couldn't imagine any¬thing that would make Terri walk out of her cousin's wedding reception. Especially without telling anyone.

Unless she'd spilled something on her dress and needed to change, he thought suddenly. That thought took hold, and Bastien found himself relaxing again. Of course, that was it. Terri had said herself that she was a bit of a clutz. She'd probably spilled something on her dress and rushed off to change.

"Did you want a taxi, too, sir?" the man asked again, lifting his whistle in preparation for calling one.

"Oh, no, thanks." Bastien pulled his cell phone from his pocket and moved to the side to call for the car he'd reserved for the night. The driver had been waiting around the corner, and pulled up within mo¬ments. Bastien slid in, ordering the man to take him home. He was at the penthouse, inserting his key in the elevator, before it occurred to him that Terri didn't have a key. And her things weren't here yet. They'd planned to pick them up after the reception. He walked to the car that still sat waiting and got back in again.

"Where to now, sir?" his driver asked. Bastien just sat there.

It was a problem, Bastien thought; he didn't know where to go. His first instinct had been the pent-house, because she'd planned to stay there. But her things were all at Kate's. However, Terri didn't have the key to Kate's place--he had it in his tuxedo pocket. She didn't have a key, didn't have a purse, and didn't have money. Of course, she might not have thought of that when she'd set out, not if she was up¬set about a spill on her dress or something. Terri might have ridden all the way out to Kate's, only to have to turn around and return to the reception.

That was probably it, Bastien thought. Terri was probably already back at the hotel and looking for him to fetch the key. He suddenly grinned to himself. He'd pay the taxi and have his driver take them to Kate's so she could change. Then, if he had it his way, they wouldn't bother returning to the reception. At least not for a while.

"Back to the hotel," he instructed, relaxing back into his seat. Terri was probably in a tizzy right this moment. He'd have to calm her down. Bastien could think of lots of ways to do that. Most of them didn't include clothes.

Terri settled in her seat on the plane, and immediately felt some of the tension leave her. She hadn't been at all sure she'd make it. She'd half feared that Bastien would show up looking for her. Surely, the message she'd left earlier had been given to Kate? If not, then someone would have certainly noticed her missing by now. She hoped no one was too worried.

Terri glanced at the phone set into the seat in front Tall, Dark & Hungry

of her. Just in case Kate's message had gone astray, she would call the hotel and leave a message for Vincent as well. But she wouldn't risk it until the flight was in the air.

"Cousin!"

Bastien stopped his pacing--a pacing he'd been doing for the last hour and a half--and glanced at the man rushing toward him. Vincent. Bastien had re¬turned to the hotel to find that Terri hadn't come back. He'd decided then that her cabbie had probably had a fit when she admitted she couldn't pay, and had refused to return her to the Hilton. He'd imagined her walking the streets of New York, and had made his driver drive him back and forth along the routes she could have taken, but found no sign of her. Then Bastien had resigned himself to pacing here, every moment making him more tense as he imagined all the ways she could be hurt or killed before she made it to the hotel. A beautiful woman, dressed in a long, possibly stained maid-of-honor gown, walking alone down the street? The imaginings he'd come up with were nightmares.

He was actually grateful for the distraction Vincent offered. "Are Kate and Lucern leaving?"

"Actually, they are. But that's not why I'm here. I just got a call from Terri."

Bastien relaxed and tensed all in the same moment. A call from her meant she was all right and able to make the call, but she was probably in trouble some¬where--especially if Vincent's grim expression was anything to go by.

"Where is she?" he asked, cutting to the heart of the matter.

"On a plane on her way back to England."

"What?" Vincent couldn't have shocked him more if he'd said she was calling from jail.

His cousin nodded. "I happened to be passing the desk on my way out here to see you when I heard my name mentioned. The clerk was taking a message for me, so I took the phone. It was Terri. She was calling from the plane."

"But, what is she--Why did she--?" Bastien struggled to understand.

"It seems she overheard Kate and Lissianna talking in the ladies' room," Vincent said grimly. "They were discussing your not having told her about your 'state.'"

Bastien's shoulders slumped. She knew what he was. Now she was running from him just as Josephine had done.

"No. Terri misunderstood. She thought they meant you were terminally ill. When I said that wasn't so, she said not to bother lying to her--she'd seen the medicine and blood. She said she knew you were ill. Terri thinks you're dying, like her mother did, like her husband did, and she said she can't watch you die, too. She loves you too much to be able to bear it."

"She loves me?"

Vincent nodded, then grinned. "Well? What are you waiting for? Get in your car and get to the air-port. Follow her," he said. "You have to go explain the truth. Tell her everything. She loves you, Bastien.

You need to tell her you aren't dying, and that she will never have to watch you die a long lingering death."

"Yes!" Bastien grinned as he realized that, in this instance, his state could be an advantage. Chuckling, he turned and gestured to his driver. Thinking he would need it when Terri arrived, he'd made the man stay here with the car. Now, the engine started and the car moved forward.

"Have a good trip, and give her a hug and a hello for me," Vincent said. He walked with Bastien to the curb, then added seriously, "I'm happy for you, cousin."

"Thanks, Vincent," Bastien said. He slid into the backseat of his car.

"No problem. Just don't mess up, huh? She's per¬fect for you. Much nicer than that holier-than-though Josephine."

Bastien paused in surprise. He'd been about to pull the door closed. "I thought you liked Josephine."

Vincent wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "None of us did. But you thought you loved her, so we would have put up with her. The good news is, none of us has to pretend to like Terri. She's a sweet¬heart." Then Vincent slammed the door closed and gave him a thumbs-up. The car pulled away.

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