"I- I don't understand, Doctor."
"Of course you don't," he said gently. "I wouldn't expect you to.
You're much too young and beautiful to worry about the likes of me." He got to his feet. "Go back upstairs now, Miss Denton. I’ll try to be very quiet and not disturb you."
The light from the lamp on his desk shining up onto his face made him look even more handsome than usual.
She stood in the doorway, staring at him. She felt her heart pumping strangely within her.
"But I do worry about you, Doctor. You work too hard."
"I’ll be all right," he said in a toneless voice. He turned to look at her and their eyes locked and held.
It seemed as if she were spinning into a swirling vortex deep in his gentle brown eyes.
She felt a trembling in her legs and placed her hand on the doorjamb quickly, to support herself.
No words came to her lips; she stared at him, speechless.
"Is anything wrong, Miss Denton?"
It took a desperate effort for her to shake her head. "No," she whispered, forcing her eyes to turn away. "No."
Suddenly, she turned and ran toward the stairway.
She wasn't even aware that he had come after her until he caught her in the doorway of her apartment.
The warmth of his hand touching her shoulder came through the thin robe.
"Are you afraid of me, Jennie?" he asked harshly.
She looked up into his face and saw the anguish in his eyes.
A curious weakness came over her and she would have fallen if he had not been holding her.
"No," she whispered.
"Then what is it?"
She looked down, not speaking, the warmth from his hand beginning to radiate into a fire inside her.
"Tell me!" he urged, shaking her.
She looked up at him, the tears coming into her eyes.
"I can't."
"You can, Jennie, you can," he said insistently.
"I know what you feel.
You feel the same things I feel.
I can't sleep without dreaming of you, without feeling you close to me."
"No. Please! It's not right."
His strong surgeon's hand held her chin.
"I love you, Jennie," he said. "I love you."
She stared up into his eyes, seeing his face coming closer and closer, then his mouth pressed down on hers.
She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the fire envelop her.
Abruptly she tore her face away. She backed into the apartment.
He stepped in after her, kicking the door shut with his foot.
"You love me," he said. "Say it!"
Her eyes were wide as she stared up at him. "No," she whispered.
He stepped forward again, his strong fingers digging deep into her shoulders.
"Say it!" he commanded harshly.
She felt the weakness as his touch flowed through her again. She couldn't turn her face from his eyes.
"I love you," she said.
He pressed his mouth to hers again and kissed her.
She felt his hands inside her robe, his fingers on her back unfastening her brassiere, her breasts rising from their restraint, the nipples leaping joyfully into his hands.
A shiver of ecstasy raced through her and she almost fell.
"Please don't," she whispered, her lips moving under his. "It's wrong."
He picked her up in his arms and carried her across the room to the bed. He placed her on it gently and knelt beside her.
"When a man and a woman are in love," he whispered, "nothing they do in the privacy of their own home is ever wrong.
And this is our home."
He pressed his lips down on her mouth again.
Tom looked across the table at the kitchen clock. It was a few minutes past ten.