But when he winced away from the lightning, she wanted to cradle his blond head against her breasts. The rain beat down on the walls and roof of Ugolini's mansion with redoubled intensity. She saw a small pool of water on the wood floor, rain blown in through the open window. "I never did make love to him," she said, raising her voice to be heard over the wind and rain. "I know that." He took a step toward her. _I am doing worse than that now_, she thought with a stab of guilt. _I am keeping from David something he would badly want to know._ "He put his arms around me and kissed me many times," she said. David turned fully to look at her, saying nothing. "Whenever he took me in his arms, I thought of you." He closed his eyes. When she was with David she never grieved over the turns her life had taken. She never felt sorry for herself, as she did with Simon, because she had not married and could not marry. Simon had actually said he wanted to marry her, and in the end she had believed him. That seemed like a dream now. A pleasant dream, but an impossible one. For an instant she tried to picture herself, a woman of Constantinople wed to a Frankish lord and living in a castle in the north of France. If such a preposterous thing should come about, she would be enormously wealthy and powerful--though she had not really thought about that when she was with Simon. She was not herself when she was with Simon. And now, when she _was_ herself and able to see things clearly, the wealth and power still did not matter, because they would give her no pleasure if she had to live among barbarians. When she was with David she never worried or even thought about her future, what life would be like for her when she was older. With David she thought only of now. He had opened his eyes and was staring at her. She looked at him, standing tall and fair. _I love you, David. I want you so._ Why had it not happened? Soon it would be a year since they had met at Lucera, and she had long known that she wanted him, and believed that he wanted her as well. But something had always held him back. Her body grew warm inside her cold garments. _It is not because of me that we have waited this long._ There was a question in his eyes, and she felt something inside her pulling her toward him. She took a faltering step across the tile floor. Then another, surer one. He held out his arms, his harsh mouth softening as his lips parted slightly. "Come to me," he said. * * * * * He watched her walking toward him one step at a time, and he thought she looked like a woman in a trance. Her head was lifted to receive his kiss. "How like rose petals your lips are," he said in Greek. He had never spoken Greek to her before. She stopped her slow march toward him and gave a long, shuddering sigh. Then she ran the last few steps and threw herself into his arms. Joy flooded his chest as he pulled her against him.