Francine leaned on the railing of the hotel room balcony and stared out at the sun rising over the serene Caribbean waters. She'd managed to catch a few hours of sleep after Jonathan had walked out, saying he needed some space and although she'd waited, it hadn't surprised her that much when he hadn't returned. He'd never behaved well after an argument back when they were engaged and she could see that some things never changed.

It had started so innocently, the two of them lying cuddled in bed after lovemaking, Jonathan tracing his fingers along her skin in the light of the dozen candles he'd lit around the room.

"Did I do this?" he'd suddenly asked, pointing to her ribs. "I am so sorry, Honey – I didn't realize I'd been so rough."

She'd craned her head to look down at her side where there was still a faint bruise and laughed lightly. "Oh no, that wasn't you. That's from my fight with Brody."

"Your fight with Brody? I thought Stetson busted you out of that plane."

"Well he did mostly, but these are from when Brody grabbed me at the apartment. I almost had him too until he pulled out that knock-out spray. Those guys always underestimate women for some reason. That's usually what gets them," she said with a quick smile. "But not this time, I guess," she added, peering down at the bruise with a pout. "I'll have to put some concealer on that tomorrow if I'm going to wear that bikini I brought."

Jonathan was still staring at the bruise with a concerned expression. He traced his fingers along it again before saying, "Well, at least that's one less thing for you to worry about when you come back to Europe with me."

"What?" Francine looked back up at his face with a startled expression. "What do you mean when I come back to Europe with you? I thought you were moving back to Washington!"

Jonathan had the grace to look abashed. "Well, no – I couldn't get the loans I needed to keep my business afloat from American banks, so I'm going to need to go back to my European financial contacts and work them instead. It won't be easy, but with my beautiful girl at my side, they'll be much more malleable on the party circuit." He began to drop kisses along her hip but looked up when she sat up with an affronted expression.

Francine didn't even know where to begin with the assumptions he was making. "But Jonathan, I don't want to move to Europe. I have a life and a career that are important to me and that I've worked damn hard to achieve. If I transfer to European Operations I'll lose all my seniority. I've spent too many years building up the respect I deserve here to just walk away and start that all over again, and I'm certainly not going to do it just so that I can be window dressing for you at cocktail parties for boring bankers in my off hours!" She could hear echoes of Amanda in what she was saying and understood for the first time how annoying that must have been. "I have a whole network of contacts in Washington you could be working with – there isn't a politician or a banker between DC and New York that I can't hook you up with!"

An expression of annoyance went across Jonathan's face. "Wow – what guy doesn't want to hear his girlfriend say that? And anyway, you're missing the point - you'd be so much more than window dressing! With your brains and your gift for languages, you can get doors opened for me that I could never manage by myself. Add in my business acumen and we'll be unstoppable!" His tone had become wheedling now and somehow, that annoyed her more.

"What kind of business acumen got you this close to bankruptcy in the first place?" she couldn't help snapping, feeling a momentary pang of guilt at his hurt expression.

"I admit it, I've had some setbacks, but you know how it's been with the financial markets since the Iran-Contra Affair and Reagan making speeches about tearing down the Berlin Wall – bankers have been leery about any dealings with American businessmen."

"I do know that and I also know both of those things have also made my job more important than ever. And all my experience makes me much better suited to deal with those kind of things on this side of the Atlantic!"

"But you wouldn't BE dealing with them if you marry me and come back to Europe, would you?" he answered in what he thought was a persuasive tone. "You could take all that experience and channel it into a whole new career helping me rebuild my business!"

She literally couldn't sit still as the anger overcame her at what he'd just said. Pushing herself off the bed and pulling on the short silk robe she'd discarded earlier, she began pacing across the room furiously. "Are you serious? You think I'm just going to quit my job and follow you into God-knows-what kind of future when you've only been in my life for the last two weeks?"

"Only two weeks? You were willing to marry me five years ago- doesn't that count for anything?"

"A lot has happened to me in those five years, Jonathan. I'm not the same dewy-eyed girl I was back then and I literally have the scars to prove it!" She whipped back the silken robe and jabbed a finger at the puckered scar on her exposed thigh from the bullet wound she'd received last year.

"Dewy-eyed girl? You've got to be kidding me if you think you were ever anything like that. Remember, that's why I lost my nerve five years ago – your strength was too much for me." He'd gotten to his feet now too and was pulling on his clothes. "And honestly, that kind of scar just tells me that I'm right that you should get out of this business! It's too dangerous a job for a woman!"

Francine barely kept her temper under control. "I'm damn good at my job and there isn't one man I work with that would say any different. I am perfectly capable of looking after myself in dangerous situations!"

"Really? Because it seems to me you'd be in Russia by now if your white knight Stetson hadn't shown up to rescue you!" Jonathan wasn't even trying to hide his jealous anger over that fact.

"I wouldn't have needed my best friend to show up if my boyfriend had trusted me enough in the first place to come directly to me instead of falling for that complete and utter hogwash Brody was feeding you and agreeing to drug me!" She dashed away the tears of rage that had sprung into her eyes. "And you know what else? I was halfway to getting myself out of that plane when Lee showed up and you want to know why? Because after last time, I was smart enough to get our weapons guy to outfit my shoes with things I could use for just such an occasion – I wasn't going to be stuck in a cellar again waiting for some man to show up and save me when I can do it myself! I have never needed a white knight!"

"Last time? When was last time? How often does this kind of thing happen?"

Francine realized she hadn't told him about that unexpected run-in with white slavers that had led to her meeting Julie. She pushed away the memory of sinking into the icy river water and how she had needed a rescuer that day. "It doesn't matter when 'last time' was – what matters is that you don't need to think of me as some little girl who needs rescuing from the big bad wolf, especially if my alternative is just being your trophy wife!"

"You really haven't changed a bit, have you?" Jonathan huffed. "You are just so damned independent you can't let yourself trust in anyone but yourself!"

"Says the man who disappeared without even a goodbye when we were practically at the altar!" For the briefest fraction of a second, she wished she could have bitten back those words, but that momentary feeling passed, overcome by how good it felt to finally let him have it for walking out on her. The two of them glared at each other in the candlelight, both knowing that they were entering dangerous territory now.

"How long have you been storing that up?" Jonathan asked finally.

"Oh, I don't know - about five years, I guess," she answered icily. She couldn't help herself now- the old hurt was bubbling up like poison.

Jonathan glared at her for a moment, then headed for the door. "I'm going for a walk," he muttered.

Francine watched him go, not having the energy or the inclination to fight with him anymore. As the door slammed behind him, she walked to the table and emptied the last of the champagne into a glass and curled back up on the bed, staring into space. The fight had been short but vitriolic and she wondered if Jonathan would even come back. Tilting her head back to drain the glass, she pulled the pillow closer and wrapping herself around it, let herself drift off to sleep.

She hadn't slept long – a few hours at most, waking suddenly with a feeling of overwhelming calm. She turned to look at the clock: six a.m. Jonathan had been gone five hours and the sun was rising. She slipped from the bed and went out onto the balcony. Years of training meant she couldn't help scanning the area for any sign of Jonathan, but mostly she just let herself enjoy the view of a new day dawning. She felt a weight lift off her, an unfamiliar feeling and in that instant, she knew who she had to talk to.

Walking back into the room, she dialled and listened to it ring back in Washington.

When a sleepy voice finally answered, she was so relieved she forgot to respond with anything except "How do you know when it's over?"

There was a moment of silence and then a chuckle came down the line. "It's usually a pretty good sign when you ask that question, but you should ask the relationship expert."

"You're right. I should have called there first – I'm sorry I woke you up. Go back to sleep."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute – don't hang up! What's going on? Are you okay?" She could hear the honest concern and her eyes pricked with tears.

"I'm fine, but I think it might really be over with Jonathan this time."

"What did he do?"

There was something oddly reassuring in the matter-of-fact way Amanda assumed Jonathan was at fault. She sighed, wondering how much she wanted to tell her. "We had a stupid fight about whether or not I was going to move to Europe with him, and he stormed off. He hasn't come back yet and I'm wondering if he's pulled another vanishing act."

"How long has he been gone?"

There was a slight noise like a struggle at the other end and then to her surprise, there was a new voice.

"Are you alright?"

"Lee? You're actually spending nights at Amanda's now?"

"Not often enough, no, but the boys are at Joe's and Dotty's at Curt's. So, are you okay? Do you need me to come down and kick his ass?"

She smiled to herself at how grouchy he sounded, but tried to sound annoyed as she scolded him. "Stetson, you sound like a great big overprotective mother bear, and you know perfectly well I can do that all by myself." She realized as she finished speaking that she could hear Amanda reprimanding him in an identical tone of voice.

There was a snort of laughter at the other end. "Oh my God, it's like having stereo wives. And I know you can, but I told you I'd always be there for you, didn't I? So are you going to? Kick his ass, I mean?"

"I don't know. You two make domesticity kind of attractive, but I don't know if I want to give up my career to make him happy. Last night I found myself making a list of all the things he does that annoy me, thinking it would help me see that I was being ridiculous, but all it did was make me realize that I don't think I want to be with him. "

Lee was silent for a moment, then asked slowly, "So, if someone walked in right now and told you he was gone for good, how would you feel?"

"Relieved", she answered without thinking.

"Well, there's your answer, Francine. Seems to me you've made the choice not to settle."

"You seem to have made that choice pretty easily." She knew she sounded snippy and immediately added "Sorry – that came out wrong."

There was another long pause and then Lee sighed, "There's a big difference between settling down and just settling, Francine. Don't let him talk you into something you don't want."

Her sigh matched his. "Yeah, you're right. I'm going to give him a piece of my mind and then I'm coming home."

"You don't want to just walk out and leave him the same way he did to you? I'd want to if I were you."

"Of course not! He doesn't get to leave with even one iota of justifying this to himself as having been my fault!"

Lee's laughter rolled down the line at her. "Good for you. Let us know when you're on your way and I'll pick you up at the airport."

"Sure, Dad," Francine couldn't help mocking his lecturing tone, but then went on. "Lee? Remember when I told you to take care of your own business and keep out of mine? Thanks for not listening to me."

Lee's laughter increased at that. "Well, I learned that from the best, you know."