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imagine him burning up the sheets.”
    Diana sighed. “You have a one track mind tonight.”
    “I’m just used to all your little tricks by now, how you change the subject.”
    “You’re straying into private territory, that’s all. I loved going to bed with Jack.” She added affectionately, “I’m just not the blabbermouth you are.”
    “How would you know if he was any good? You’ve had precious little experience for this day and age.”
    “Viv, we’ve been through this before. I don’t think experience is important. I just don’t. I didn’t need the three men before Jack to know how good it was with him.” The dark tower of Harrah’s came into view. She stared curiously; the hotel had been built since the last time she was here.
    “Three men? Your marriage hardly counts. It’s a wonder you didn’t leave that drunken fool of a Tommy still a virgin. And that McDonnell-Douglas engineer— At least tell me this, Diana. Was Jack that good in bed? Really?“
    “Yes, for me. Really.”
    “Men are really good in bed when they want more than their own pleasure, when they really, really love women. That makes them sensitive.”
    “Jack was sensitive. He loved women.”
    “Was that it, Diana?” Vivian asked softly. “Were there other women?”
    “I don’t want to talk about it.” Diana bit off the words.
    “You’re the most honest person I’ve ever known. Too honest, you never spare yourself anything. You’re so quiet, you look so tired all the time—I know you’ve got to work this through but don’t exhaust your strength when you have friends who love you and want to help.”
    “Thank you, Viv,” Diana said, tears stinging her eyelids.
    She knew she had no choice but silence. How could she explain, justify her feelings to anyone? There had to be something wrong with her. How else could she explain the coldness she had discovered in herself after five years of loving Jack Gordon?
    She could not forgive him. After six weeks, she could not even consider forgiving him. Agonized by his absence, she had been sullen and waspish in his presence; he had called, rung the apartment buzzer, accosted her in the apartment garage and at her office. Her mind shuttered from him, angry at his hurt, she had refused to listen, turned away repelled when he tried to touch her. Every shred of feeling for this man she had loved better than any other in her life had vanished.
    There was more evidence: You never wanted children, she accused herself. Yes, Tommy was a drunk, but that had been an excuse. She had been happy when Jack declared that he wanted only her; living with him unmarried had given her the excuse to avoid discussion or admission that she did not want children—that there was a cold and unloving core in her, that there was something wrong with her.
    With Vivian’s luggage in the care of a bellman, Diana kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    Vivian held her at arm’s length. “Aren’t you going to stay? And play? Say hello to John?”
    “You and John will have your own hellos to take care of,” Diana teased. “I’ll be here in the morning.”
    “Liz won’t have a phone in that place, she thinks she’s roughing it. All it does is make things awkward.”
    “I’ll find you, don’t worry.”
    “Why not stay and play?” Vivian coaxed. “You can’t meet —I mean, you’ve got to get out and around and — ”
    “The cabin was your idea, remember? If I’m going to be spending the next four days there, I’d better be a little sociable, don’t you think?”
    “You’re right, honey. But get out of there as much as you can. Nothing interesting can possibly happen in a cabin full of women.”
     

Chapter 2
     
     
    “Is that what I hope it is?” Lane had walked into the kitchen.
    Diana unpacked a paper bag. “Vodka, and this was the best of the wine they had chilled.”
    Lane inspected the two wine bottles. “Very nice. Good.”
    She rummaged in a drawer for a corkscrew.