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The tension in the car was explosive as Nicole waited for Jean-Jacques to tell her why he had left without a word all those years ago.

He surrendered the parking slip to the attendant and pulled out into traffic before attempting to respond. It was a question for which he'd had no satisfactory answer five years ago, so he'd done the cowardly thing and had left Vence without facing her.

But just now he'd heard in her demand an underlying bleakness that he didn't want to acknowledge, yet couldn't ignore. Only Nicole had the power to slip past his defenses and tie him in knots.

"Long before I went away, I'd been wrestling with the decision to do something more with my life than grow flowers," he began.

"How come you never told me?"

"Until I'd worked out a plan, it wasn't something I wished to discuss with anyone."

Her head was bowed. "I lived in a fantasy world back then, didn't I? Imagining that I knew everything going on inside of you?"

"Does one human being ever really know another?"

"You knew me!" she blurted with raw emotion.

He sucked in his breath. "I knew you were a Giraud, Nicole. You were also very young."

Her head swerved in his direction. "Why don't you say what you really mean ? that I was a naïve little fool."

"You're putting words in my mouth. I meant that you weren't old enough to know what life would present to you one day. Though you've always played it down, you were born to a world of privilege that only a handful of people will ever experience."

"What does that have to do with anything?" she cried out angrily. "Every person is born to a world unique to them. But just because my father makes more money than yours shouldn't have any bearing on our relationship. You make it sound as though we come from different planets."

"I'm not so sure that isn't the right analogy." He felt her gaze penetrate to his soul.

"I can't believe what I'm hearing! Up until the day you disappeared, I don't recall those differences preventing you from spending every free moment with me."

"It was always in private, Nicole. I was no more welcome in your home than you were in mine."

"That's not true!" she fired back. "I begged you to come to my house and spend time with me. I could never understand why you refused. Neither could Mother. But until just now, I had no idea your family didn't approve of me." Her voice broke.

Oh, hell. He raked an unsteady hand through his hair. "It wasn't a case of disapproval. I knew they'd be uncomfortable. That's why I didn't invite you."

"Uncomfortable ?" she cried. "Why?" Her incredulity made him realize she honestly didn't know. Nicole had always been blind to color and class differences. Those were just a few of the traits he loved about her.

He shook his head. "If you don't understand it by now, then heaven help me, I can't explain it to you. It's a moot point anyway. To explain what happened — an unexpected opportunity came my way to study in Paris, so I took it."

"Did some benefactor give you money?" The tears in her voice tore at his soul.

He was skirting dangerous ground now. "Yes. It was like a miracle. For the first time in my life I could look down the road at the possibility of a different future. But it meant leaving my parents who needed me, though they would deny it."

It meant leaving you, he added in his mind. Looking at you right now, I don't know how I found the strength.

"You couldn't have told me that much in a note at least?"

By now they were getting close to the office. "Nicole — do you remember the day you told me you wished I didn't smoke, and dared me to stop?"

"Yes," came the quiet reply. "You stubbed it out and never smoked again."

"Leaving home was like throwing that last cigarette away. It was all or nothing. If I'd started with the goodbyes, I would never have left. Before I lost my courage, I packed my things and headed for the train while the family was still asleep."

A prolonged silence filled the interior of the car. He turned into the parking lot and pulled to a stop near the main doors of the building.

Her lovely features looked frozen in marble. "Thank you for telling me the truth. All these years I — I thought you must have hated me. Now I realize that the day you left, you chose to put away childish things." After another hesitation, she added, "Did you love Paris?"

Get out of the car now, Armentier. Otherwise you know what you're going to do, and then Nicole will be in no doubt of your feelings for her.

He forced a smile. "Does a Frenchman love the sun?" After turning off the motor, he pulled the keys from the ignition, ready to exit the car.

She lifted tremulous brown eyes to him. "Jean-Jacques? I know you have a phone conference in a minute, but would you do me a favor? It's the last one I'll ever ask of you."

Adrenaline surged through his body as he realized she was prepared to say goodbye. "If I can."

"I'm giving a small cocktail party tonight. Would you drop by my apartment for drinks? Consider it a welcome home present from an old friend who was robbed of the pleasure of giving you a proper send-off. Any time after eight o'clock. I live at number 14, rue du Mistral."

She looked at him rather sadly and smiled. Then she shut the car door behind her before he could answer.

Nicole hovered near the front window of her apartment, worried because Jean-Jacques hadn't arrived yet. She looked around the tiny living room decorated with a small Christmas tree and red poinsettias. It was almost nine o'clock. The hors d'oeuvres would have to be reheated.

With every passing minute she had to wait, her temperature rose another degree. The tension made even the sleeveless black mandarin silk dress feel too hot for her.

Her heart gave a furious kick when she heard footsteps outside the door, then a knock. She opened it to meet his unsmiling regard.

There was a forbidding look about him tonight. She wondered at her temerity in asking him to her home. Swallowing hard she said, "Bonsoir, Jean-Jacques. I'm so glad you could make it. Come in."

"Merci." In a few swift strides he moved past her, careful not to brush against her arm. As she was closing the door, she caught him appraising her with the kind of thoroughness that had always taken her breath in the past. Take a good look, my love, she thought. I'm no longer a child you can dismiss like you did five years ago.

If he were as immune to her as he'd led her to believe earlier today, he wouldn't have come over tonight. Overjoyed at this much progress she stared back at him. Few men were as naturally elegant as Jean-Jacques. Tonight his formal navy suit and paisley tie gave him the air of the successful business tycoon.

In her childhood she'd been too young to articulate what she found so attractive about him. By her teens the word dashing came to mind. When she turned 20, he was captivating. Everything about him fascinated her.

But six years had added another element. He now had the irresistible appeal of a virile male who'd outgrown all traces of the younger man. She was staggered by his sensuality.

"I hope you're hungry. Please sit down and help yourself to my homemade eggnog while I get the appetizers from the kitchen."

He remained where he was, his stance formidable. His black eyes had narrowed on her mouth. "Where are the rest of your guests?"