A PERFECT RENDEZVOUS

A Week

Propped up against a mound of feather pillows in the master bedroom's huge bed, Harry gazed at the dishes on the low table in front of the fireplace across the room. They'd eaten a late breakfast there, and then Zayn had taken him back to bed and made love to him. He'd kept Harry awake most of the night, making love to him with a mixture of demanding urgency and exquisite tenderness that Harry found wildly exciting and tormentingly sweet. Each time he finished, he pulled Harry into his arms and held him close while they dozed. Now it was past noon, and Harry was sitting beside him, curved against his body, his arm around Zayn's shoulders, his hand lazily caressing his arm. Unfortunately, in daylight, he was finding it far more difficult to cling to the illusion that this was a little cottage where he was safe and warm in bed beside a wonderfully ordinary man who also happened to be his devoted lover. In broad daylight, he was unhappily aware that the man who made love to him with such violent tenderness and need, who groaned with passion in his arms and made him cry out and feel as if he were the only man who'd ever done this with him, had also made love to countless movie stars and sexy socialites. That had been his world—a luxurious, frenetic world populated by rich, beautiful, talented people with the right connections.

That had been his old life, and even though he'd lost everything, Harry had no doubt that he would prove his innocence, now that he was free to search out the real killer—with his inexpert but willing help, if possible. Once he did that, he'd be free to return to his former life, to resume his brilliant career in Hollywood. His need of Harry would cease to exist then. And when that happened, when he was reduced to the status of an "old friend" of his, he knew the pain was going to be terrible.

He wasn't going to fall in love with Harry and make undying declarations of love. Zayn simply needed him now, and for some reason God had meant for him to be here for his use. All Harry could do was live each moment as it came, savor it, and memorize it for the years ahead. That meant never asking Zayn for more than he could give, never burdening him with his feelings, and keeping as much of his heart intact as he possibly could. That meant finding a way to keep things as light and frivolous as possible. Harry wished he were sophisticated and experienced with men; that would have been a tremendous help to him now in accomplishing those things and a lot of others.

"What are you thinking about?" Zayn asked.

He turned his head and found Zayn studying him with a concerned frown. "Nothing too profound," he hedged with a bright, artificial smile. "Life in general."

"Tell me about it."

Trying to avoid both his searching gaze and the entire discussion, Harry moved out from under his arm and drew his knees up, wrapping his arms around them. "It really wasn't worth discussing."

"Why don't you let me decide that."

He shot him a dark look. "Have you always been so persistent?"

"It's one of my most unattractive qualities," he replied smoothly and impenitently. "What were you thinking about—specifically?"

He rolled his eyes at Zayn in laughing exasperation, but when he continued to regard him in waiting silence, Harry gave in and told him a part of the truth. Perching his chin on his knees to avoid his gaze, Harry said, "I was thinking how strange life is. Everything can seem completely predictable, and then in one short minute—in the time it takes to decide to pull off the interstate for some coffee—everything can change."

Zayn leaned his head back against the pillows, closed his eyes, and swallowed with relief. He'd thought Harry was reflecting on the more logical and accurate fact that Zayn was ruining his life.

From the corner of his eye, Harry stole a quick look at his tense face and his heart sank. Laughter and lightness and sensuality were what he wanted and needed, not philosophy or anything with emotional intensity, and he resolved not to let Zayn corner him into a discussion like this again.