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  But it was. She realized she’d been having all the symptoms but hadn’t recognized them. Her body was about to embark on its ritual nausea, cramps and weakness. Even as she gave thanks for her body having waited through this morning, Nick felt the first tightening and ache. Her passion-flower libido wilted. Oh bother. There was no way she’d be making love with Carolyn for at least three days.

  Nick fumbled in her pseudo-shaving kit for ibuprofen and downed several tablets. Now she needed food, and fast. Wrapped in a towel, she stepped to the door of the bathroom and called out to Carolyn.

  “Nick,” Carolyn said, her eyes round. “This is a surprise.”

  “I don’t have good news,” Nick said.

  “You don’t look good,” Carolyn said more seriously.

  “I feel lousy. The performance either held it off or brought it on, I don’t know which, but…” Nick grinned sheepishly when Carolyn laughed.

  “Oh my God—for a conductor, you have a poor sense of timing.”

  Nick was relieved at Carolyn’s laughter. “The ultimate proof of my womanhood. Maybe the pure woman-power helped this morning, but right now I’m about to become a miserable bear. I need food, and fast, or I might throw up on your shoes.”

  “Oscar and I will fix you up—go shower, then put on something comfy and warm.”

  Nick heard their muffled conversation as she toweled off a few minutes later, and pulled on her only androgynous attire—velour sweatpants and matching sweatshirt in dark gray. She left herself unbound, as it were, and despite the growing discomfort of the cramps, she still felt a flush of desire as Carolyn stared at her with frank admiration. Maybe they could go in for some passionate petting…but even as the hope flickered Nick shuddered and groped for the softest nearby chair while her uterus tried to turn inside out. The wave passed and left her covered in a cold sweat and praying that her empty stomach would process the pills all that much faster.

  “Here’s some water, and room service is bringing fresh bread and pottage du poulet.” At Nick’s frown, Carolyn smiled and said, “Chicken soup.”

  Nick lifted her head, then gratefully burrowed it into the pillow Carolyn plumped behind her. Some superwoman, she told herself as she succumbed to more mothering in one afternoon than she’d had in years and years. She could get used to it.

  ***

  “I don’t want to go, you know, but you need a good night’s sleep. I’d just keep you awake,” Carolyn told Nick, but she didn’t try to hide the flush that swept over her when she considered the many ways she would keep Nick awake—none of which were fair to Nick. “You look as if you want to die, and you have the very important date with a recording executive tomorrow, remember? Not to mention another performance tomorrow night.”

  Oscar had retired for the evening some time ago, and Carolyn slowly stroked Nick’s hair as Nick cuddled under a blanket up against Carolyn’s thigh. “Don’t leave. You keep me warm.”

  “I need a good night’s sleep, too. While you rehearse I’m going to finish sightseeing—I have two museums to see and Oscar and I are going to finish the Mozart tour we started while you were napping.

  “Sounds lovely,” Nick said sleepily.

  How could anyone not know Nick was a woman? Her hair was silk, and the pale fuzz on her neck was equally soft against Carolyn’s fingertips. She thought she could have sat there all night, just touching, tenderly, learning the brush of Nick’s hair against her fingertips. But she caught her head drooping and she nudged Nick gently. “Come on you, let’s put you to bed.”

  “Umm. Sounds heavenly.” Nick slowly got to her feet. “I don’t usually pamper myself like this. It feels damn good.”

  Carolyn followed Nick into her bedroom, then sat on the bed until Nick emerged from the bathroom. Carolyn took the glass after Nick swallowed more tablets, then asked, “What do you sleep in?”

  Nick laughed drowsily and indicated a worn T-shirt. Carolyn handed it over, and didn’t look away as Nick changed. Her imagination had been very accurate.

  “I could getused to this,” Nick said as Carolyn tucked her in and kissed her forehead. “But I want a proper kiss.”

  “I’m not sure I know how to kiss properly,” Carolyn said, her lips trying to turn her uncertainty into a joke, but Nick didn’t smile back.

  “You know how,” Nick said.

  Carolyn breathed in slowly and leaned down. She covered Nick’s mouth with her own, light and lingering.

  “Very nice,” Nick breathed.

  “Quick study,” Carolyn said. “Good night.”

  She let herself out into the quiet hotel, then walked the well-lit street to her own hotel. Nick filled her mind when she closed her eyes to sleep, and the scent of Nick’s body, warm and damp after her shower, surrounded her. She breathed it in, enjoying the intoxication. If this isn’t love, I like it anyway.

  ***

  “Devon, I’m ready! Shake a leg!”Alison checked her satchel one last time for her passport and tickets. Devon locked the office door and hopped down the stairs.

  “There’s ninety minutes before your flight, and it’s a twenty-minute drive,” Devon said reprovingly. “The last few days you’ve been about as much fun as income taxes.”

  “Sorry,” Alison said shortly. “This trip means a lot to me.” She hadn’t told Devon much, but she knew she’d been more moody than usual.

  “Don’t think I don’t know why,” Devon said. He hoisted one of the suitcases into the voluminous trunk of his Dodge Dart. “You’re being oh-so-secretive about this trip, but I know what you’re up to. ‘Why don’t you take a week off, Devon? Wouldn’t a vacation be nice, Devon?’” he mimicked. “You’re going to romp in Europe while I swelter in this gawdawful heat wave.”

  “Could you just get in the car,” Alison pleaded.

  Devon glared at her, but got in. “I haven’t asked, but what will it mean if Miss Love-Among-the-Roses actually decides you are worth sleeping with?”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Alison said, pretending not to recognize the title of Carolyn’s first book.

  “Have it your way, but you’re going out on a long, long limb and while she’s very nice, and has always been friendly, she still never struck me as liking queer trees. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  Alison drew in a shuddering breath and said nothing. At the airport she gave the sulky Devon a hug. “I’ve been a bitch to live with. But wish me luck.”

  “Okay, I’ll wish you luck, and some oral sex. And thanks for my week off.”

  Alison laughed and hugged Devon again. “Hope you have some oral sex too.”

  ***

  The long journey gave Alison time to think, especially since reading the work she’d brought with her was as unappealing as the airline food.

  The airport in Frankfort, where she changed flights, was shockingly like any other. Here, however, the signs were in a half-dozen languages—in the States they sometimes deigned to add another language, but one non-English language seemed to be the limit. Her layover was four hours, so she went in search of food and formulated Alison’s First Theorem of Traveling, which stated in its entirety: Stale tortilla chips encrusted with pasteurized, processed, artificially flavored cheese product by any other name still tastes like shit. Der nachos. They were salty and artificial and therefore tasted a lot like her usual dinners, which as a rule came from boxes, bags or buckets.

  She realized her preoccupation with the food kept her from wondering if she was making the all-time big mistake. She ignored her subconscious, which kept telling her she was making a fool of herself. When it wouldn’t cooperate she tried reasoning with it. Perceive this, she said sternly. If this trip turns out to be the most colossal waste of money I’ve ever achieved, you may say I told you so and I’ll listen to what you’ve been saying about getting a life. But give me until Rome.

  Her subconscious continued to mutter doubts.

  ***

  “Because I promised myself I would stick to my itinerar
y,” Carolyn said stubbornly.

  Nick was flabbergasted. “But you didn’t know you’d—we’d—”

  “No, but I keep promises, even to myself. I told you why.”

  Nick didn’t see what Carolyn’s ill-fated marriage had to do with her. “But I’m not what’s-his-name. I’m—”

  “A woman pretending to be a man. And I’m a l-lesbian.” Carolyn’s frown softened into a smile. “I obviously need to practice that.”

  Nick was relieved to see the smile. “I know we’re a very odd couple, but darling, I don’t see why we can’t travel together. Why can’t you just check into my suite when we get to Rome? If you take the flight you’re booked on, I’ll be away from you for almost a day before we connect again.”

  “I know. I regret the waste of a day, too. But Nick—it just seems so much like before. Wait, let me finish. I know that inside I’m totally changed. I know that when we finally—you know—”

  “After the performance tonight, if you’ll just stay—”

  “I know it’ll be right. Just as everything with my marriage was wrong. But the situation, the holiday romance thing—it feels just the same. I distrust it.”

  Nick didn’t know what to do or what to say. She didn’t want to lose one precious moment with Carolyn—not when Carolyn’s holiday was coming to a close after Rome, and Nick was, if Deutsche Grammophon followed up on the tantalizing expressions of interest, shortly going to be committed to a recording session. “I understand. But what can I say? I don’t want you to go. And when we get to Rome, I don’t want you in another hotel—I want you in my bed.”

  “You’ll be welcome in my bed, you know.” Carolyn turned her head slightly, and Nick couldn’t see her expression.

  “But darling, it makes more sense if you stay with me.”

  “Why?” Her face was still hidden.

  “Because, it’ll seem more…natural, I guess.” Nick said it reluctantly, hoping Carolyn would understand.

  “Oh God.” Carolyn stood up and walked to the windows of Nick’s bedroom. “I keep forgetting you’re a man.” Her laugh had no humor in it.

  “I’m not…it’s just the clothes,” Nick said desperately. She wanted to leap up out of her chair and run to Carolyn, hug her, but Carolyn had gone all pointy. Oh bother.

  “And wanting to appear as if you have a woman staying with you. So you look just like any other normal red-blooded guy. Oh God. I’d forgotten all about that.”

  “Carolyn, that’s not it.” But it was…partially. “It’s true that I wouldn’t mind our affair becoming known because it might keep anyone from more intensely scrutinizing me. But I won’t sacrifice you to do that. I wouldn’t ask that of you.”

  “And I have to fight my own well-schooled instincts to do the womanly thing and sacrifice for you and the relationship.” She turned back from the window and said intensely, “Nick, don’t you see, I’ve just discovered a brand new me, and I haven’t sorted that out yet. I don’t know what my new features are, what I want, jeez, what I’m goingto do for a living. It’s so damn tempting to run away with you and play house. It’ll look so damn normal. It would be so easy…but I’d never get the chance to be what I finally know I am. I can’t lie.”

  “You’d be surprised how little I’ve lied.”

  Carolyn’s eyebrows raised skeptically.

  “All I have to do is wear men’s clothes and say my name is Nicolas. I never call myself Mister, and I’ve only lied on my passport application.”

  “But it all equals deception. Oh Nick, it’s beside the point. I know it would be easy…”

  “So why are you making it so hard on yourself?”

  “So why do you wear men’s clothes?” Carolyn’s chin was positively mulish.

  “Okay,” Nick said, not understanding but recognizing that Carolyn felt strongly about it and would not change her mind. “You’re leaving for Rome in a few hours. I guess I’ll see you when I get there.” She tried to sound light.

  Carolyn walked toward Nick, her body outlined by the vivid Salzburg sky. Blue eyes gleamed at Nick. “Why don’t we make the best use of the few hours before I leave?” She stopped in front of Nick, looking down at her.

  Nick caught her breath when Carolyn’s hands cupped her face. She bent over Nick, hair whispering off her back and draping across Nick’s shoulders.

  More kisses. The kisses of the last few days had been divinely excruciating. Nick had suggested, repeatedly, that while her own body was out of commission, so to speak, there was no reason why Carolyn should place similar restrictions on herself. But Carolyn had it in her head that nothing should hinder either of them.

  The kisses promised that the first time would be memorable. Already Carolyn’s lips nibbled at Nick’s shoulders. Nick was ready for their first time. Her skin seemed to inhale Carolyn’s touch. Carolyn knelt, her mouth coming hungrily to Nick’s breasts—completely unflattened and less flat with every moment—and her fingers went to Nick’s shirt buttons, then her hands possessed Nick’s shoulders.

  “Why not now?” Carolyn’s voice swirled in Nick’s ear in a symphony of suggestion and desire.

  “I—I want the first time to be right,” Nick said. “Your romantic ideas have won me over.”

  “All right,” Carolyn murmured. “Then just kiss me.” Her lips were soft and open against Nick’s mouth as she pulled Nick out of the chair. “Kiss me.” She drew Nick down on top of her, hips arching up, mouth inviting…body so soft…

  When Nick heard the quiet knocking she realized that it had been going on for some time. “Damn,” she muttered. She rolled away from Carolyn and rebuttoned her shirt. Carolyn, after a dazed, frozen moment, got unsteadily to her feet, and went back to the window.

  Nick smoothed her hair as she went to the door, knowing Oscar would not have knocked if it weren’t important. Of course Oscar wouldn’t know what he’d interrupted, but then again Oscar was no fool either. She opened the door, listened, then bolted to the bathroom. In less than sixty seconds, Maestro Frost emerged.

  Carolyn still stood at the window, her expression lost in the shadow. She didn’t say anything as Nick smiled at her and mouthed, “Deutsche Grammophon again,” but she did show Nick that her fingers crossed for good luck. Nick took a deep breath, then entered the sitting room with a brisk air.

  Nick had trouble following what the representative was saying. The memory of Carolyn’s body at the window, outlined in sunlight, was foremost in her mind. She realized suddenly what she was absentmindedly agreeing to. “Two weeks from now? That’s absurd!”

  Deutsche Grammophon explained their situation again—the London Symphony Orchestra was already scheduled. The Royal Academy Choir was already scheduled. The scheduled legendary conductor, however, was suddenly and regrettably inflicted with gallstones and the company had found only one available conductor it felt could finish the recording session, which required symphonic competence, and, more importantly, superb choral control. After the concert in the Great Cathedral, well, how could Maestro Frost not agree? Maestro Frost was the only conductor available who could successfully conduct Mahler’s Symphony of a Thousand. And Maestro Frost would share an album with the aforementioned legend.

  Nick knew flattery when she heard it, but it sounded wonderful all the same. Still, two weeks—she’d have barely enough time to feel settled again in what passed for home in London. Absolutely not, she couldn’t do it.

  Deutsche Grammophon became very persuasive with numbers and alluded to residuals. Oscar asked him to clarify, and when he did, Nick understood that a great deal of money must already be involved. But money wasn’t quite everything—her priorities were intact—and even as she opened her mouth to refuse one more time, Nick saw the future. She’d read a science fiction story once where the people had the ability to see all possible futures from the point in time where they stood. From where she stood, she saw only two possible futures. The future in which she refused this offer did not contain another chance.

  �
�I’ll do it—provided you can have a contract that satisfies Mr. Smythe ready by the end of the day.” She was not going to Rome without knowing where she would be bound afterward.

  Deutsche Grammophon promised to meet the deadline and departed. Nick stood behind the closed door and stared at Oscar, who stared back.

  They gave a simultaneous whoop of joy and Oscar hugged Nick tightly. “This is it!” he exulted.

  “What’s up?” Carolyn stood in the bedroom doorway.

  Nick whirled, then literally danced over to her. “I’m going to make a record for a very prestigious recording company. In London. With the world-famous symphony and choir located there. Tah-duh!”

  Carolyn threw her arms around Nick, and Nick gathered her up, then swung her around in a circle before letting go. “It’s only two weeks away.”

  “Two weeks!”

  “They’re desperate and they want me!” Nick managed a time step before she ran out of breath. “Come out to dinner and celebrate.”

  “Nick,” Carolyn said slowly, “I’m leaving for Rome. In fact, I really should be getting back to my hotel.”

  “No!” Nick’s enthusiasm faded as quickly as it had bloomed.

  “Yes.” Carolyn nodded with emphasis.

  “But this is a once-in-a-lifetime celebration, Carolyn, please.”

  “Nick, you’re one of those people whose entire life will be one once-in-a-lifetime experience after another. I’m just ordinary Carolyn Vincense, and the life I have is the only one I’ve got. I’ve got to stick with it, for a while longer.” Carolyn caught her lower lip between her teeth. “Nick, I’m sorry. It’s how I feel.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Carolyn’s expression went stormy, catching Nick offguard. “I understand how you feel, which makes it even harder for me to go. The least you could do is try to understand what I’m talking about.”

  “I am trying, but I just don’t get it,” Nick said brusquely, Carolyn’s anger sparking within Nick. Only minutes ago they had been so passionate, but with completely different intent.