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waiting, clearly counting on her to say something and her failing to come through. Whatever that had been about mattered, but if Fox was hurting,that took precedence over any and everything else.

“Lean forward,” she said quietly, firmly. “I told you before, I had another exercise I wanted to give you.

It’s like the first one we did. An exercise you can use whenever you’re in pain or stressed. Not just for now but whenever you feel stressed.…”

He turned toward the driver’s window—not at a perfect angle, but good enough. She knelt behind him—again not easy to do from her seat, but she could manage. Thankfully he was wearing an old, loose sweatshirt that she could push out of the way. She closed her eyes when she felt his warm, supple skin under her fingertips again. Maybe she had no oils to work with today, no soothing warm water, no props. But she had her hands, to knead into his hair, into his nape, around his temples and forehead. And she had her heart, her love, to convey through the sense of touch.

“Okay now, Fox,” she whispered, “this is called the rainbow exercise. I want you to picture yourself standing at the beginning of a giant tunnel that’s entirely made of color—”

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“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

She considered taking a small nip out of his shoulder, but that would be too loverlike. A headache was serious business. Healing him was no joke. “Just go along with me, okay?”

“Okay.” He used that patronizing tone men used on women when they were pretending to be patient, but she didn’t care. She’d won what she needed. His attention.

“Okay, now close your eyes and imagine this rainbow tunnel. Just like with a real rainbow, the first part is red. You’re going to take an imaginary step inside where it’s all red, Fox. I want you to feel that red, smell it, taste it, touch it. There’s huge energy in that color, isn’t there? Passion. Anger. High emotion…

“And then we’re going to keep walking, slowly, into our rainbow. We’re going to walk past the red into orange. Feel how bright and colorful and splashy the orange is? And now we’re walking into yellow. All warm and healing and sunny. A happy color, yes? And you’re feeling washed in that yellow. Drenched in that yellow. It’s bathing you from head to toe.…”

She rubbed and stroked, his head, his temples, playing out the rainbow exercise, talking softly, soothingly. Lovingly. She could feel the knots in his neck start to ease. Feel those big strong shoulders give up some of their tension.

He was such a sucker for a head rub. Again she felt her heart surge. It was such a simple joy—knowing that she was the one who could reach him. Knowing she was the one person who could relax him, whom he could trust enough to be himself with, to let down his heart with.

“The green is so beautiful, isn’t it? You can almost smell all the green things—the grass and leaves. The emerald is so alive, so full of life. But then, at last we come to blue, Fox. A deep, rich royal blue…but not dark. This is a clear blue. This is the blue color that makes you think of peace. There’s no stress in this blue. No worries. No fears. Feel the blue, Fox?”

“Yup, I feel your damn blue, red.”

She grinned and dropped her hands. “Okay…that’s it. Just kind of wake up from this slowly. How’s the headache?”

Slowly he lifted his head. Slowly he turned around. She was still crouched on her knees, waiting to see his face, to study how he was doing. The storm clouds had thundered on, but it was still raining outside—a clean, soaking downpour that hissed in the leaves and washed down the meadow. She could see his face much clearer now, and the intensity in his expression startled her.

“What did he do to you, Phoebe?”

“What?”

“The guy. The jerk you were engaged to. What did he do to you? And no ducking out this time. You promised that you’d try to be as honest with me as I was with you. You promised you’dtry. And I told you what happened to me.”

She sucked in a breath, feeling suddenly at a loss. “I didn’t heal your headache? The exercise didn’t work?”

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“Red, you’ve been healing me from the day I met you. How about giving me a shot?”

“At what?”

“At helping you heal this time,” he said softly, and then repeated insistently, “What did the son of a gun do to you?”

She clicked up the lock and pushed out the door. She could have grabbed her jacket, but at the moment she just didn’t care. Rain sloshed down, not hard, but too relentlessly to escape it. It slithered in her hair, matted her eyelashes.

Still she took off, hiking fast, and only moments later realized that Fox had caught up and was keeping pace beside her. He said nothing, just walked with her, getting as soaked as she was.

“Darn it, Fox! It’s not something I can explain. Not to a man.”

“Then forget I’m a man and just think of me as a friend.”

“For Pete’s sake. Ido think of you as a friend. But I’ll never forget you’re a man in this life. No woman would.”

“Um, I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult.”

“It’s just a statement of fact.”

He said quietly, “Find a way to tell me.”

Like it was that easy. And damnation, but the warm rain was squishing in her shoes now, and making her long hair feel heavier than a rope.

Besides, she didn’t know where to start. “In high school…I went out with a lot of boys. Always had a good time. But also always pulled back before it went too far. I just really wanted to save it for the right guy. Girls still believe there’ll be one perfect guy for them when they’re in high school. Or some

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