Jade Star (Star Quartet 4)

“You don’t . . . that is, you won’t touch—”

He broke off her pitiful string of words. “Come sit down, Jules.” She did as he bid her, and he moved to stand by the fireplace. “You may be certain that I am not a slave to lust, my dear. As I said, Byrony, outside my office, is a good friend. Once inside my office, she is a patient.”

“But she’s so beautiful!”

“True. And it bothers you that I will be touching her intimately?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s straight talking. In medical school, a long time ago—”

“Not more than nine years!”

“Well, then, nine years ago, when I ws a young man rather than a doctor, I got terribly embarrassed, more than my female patients, I’d wager, when I had to examine them. Embarrassed, not lustful. I remember once that my hands were actually shaking, and my face was red as a beet. But, you see, Jules, that young girl I was examining was very ill. She hurt. She trusted me to make her feel better. The fact that I was a young man made no difference. Pain tends to dissolve embarrassment, you know.”

Jules lowered her head. “You must think I’m an awful fool.”

“Not at all . . . well, just a bit, sweetheart. As my wife, I realize it must be difficult for you to understand that a female patient has no more sexuality to me than a male patient. But it’s true.”

“But I’m not your wife,” she said, and bit down hard on her lower lip.

“Of course you are,” he said sharply, disregarding the true meaning of her words. “Now, do you believe me? Trust me?”

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry, Michael.” She fingered the beautiful emerald necklace about her throat that he’d give her two weeks before. He was so generous to her, so kind, and here she was questioning him like a silly shrew. She wanted to apologize again, but instead she heard herself asking, “Have you gone to see Jane Branigan?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “I would have taken you with me, but I wasn’t certain that it would be wise.”

Jules swallowed a bit painfully. “Did you kiss her?”

“No.”

“Did you want to?”

Yes, he thought, he had wanted to. He hurt from need. And he didn’t know what to do about it, because he’d promised Jules he’d be faithful. He lied easily: “No.”

“And if Jane got sick, you wouldn’t feel anything if you had to touch her?”

“Of course I’d feel things. I am fond of her, Jules. I would be frightened that she would be too ill for me to help her.”

“And if I were ill?”

> He smiled at that. “I’d be scared silly. So don’t get sick, all right?”

Jules felt as though she’d dug a hole a good ten feet deep and leapt into it. She fought to get out. “Thomas should be here soon,” she said.

“Yes, he should,” Saint said, relieved at her abrupt change of topic. “I’ve been thinking about him, and probably the best thing for him would be to go back East, perhaps to New York, to medical school.”

“But he’s so young!”

“Not at all. He’s twenty-two, isn’t he?”

She nodded.

He found himself looking at her closely. She looked beautiful, he was used to that, but she also looked a bit pale and too thin. He frowned. Surely she couldn’t be lonely. Chauncey and Agatha both spent a good deal of time with her—she was always visiting Chauncey to play with Alexandra. Now that Byrony and Brent were back, he was certain she would become friends with Byrony.

He had forced himself not to touch her. He couldn’t bear it. When he went to bed at night, he was careful to keep his door closed. It was another tangible barrier that kept her safe from him. Even when he woke up during the night, his breathing harsh, his groin aching, he’d see that closed door.

“Jules,” he said suddenly, “are you happy?”