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'How typical,' Elizabeth thought peevishly, 'It's just like him to breeze in, create a bloody great mess and then leave it for others to sort out.' She sank lower into the hot water of the bubble bath. A small part of her mind offered the opinion that perhaps it wasn't so great a dilemma after all, but she hurriedly squashed it. 'Even if,' she thought, 'IF I reciprocated his feelings in any fashion, a relationship would never work.'
The gossip mill at County was a hale and hearty beast, and Elizabeth knew that if any word of a relationship got out, there would be hell to pay. She groaned. Thoughts of County had reminded her: every procedure scheduled for tomorrow would be with Romano. Briefly, she entertained the notion of calling in sick, but she resolutely pushed it aside. She would have to face him eventually, and the sooner the better. Better that he didn't have any reason to call her coward.
A cry from Ella's room interrupted her relaxing, and Elizabeth hurriedly finished and threw her robe on to check on her daughter. Ella was standing up in her crib, and she let out a squeal at the sight of her mother. Elizabeth asked, "What is it, love?"
"Watah, mama," Ella said, pointing to the sipper cup of water that Elizabeth always kept on the dresser. Elizabeth retrieved it and handed it to her. The toddler drank happily and handed the cup back. Elizabeth asked, "Do you want anything else?" Ella shook her head and laid back down. Elizabeth covered her up with the blanket as the little girl grabbed her favorite stuffed bear and snuggled it under her chin.
Elizabeth stood stroking Ella's hair as the child fell back to sleep, and she was hit by a pang of sorrow that Mark wouldn't be around to see his baby grow up. It wasn't a new feeling, but with Romano's declaration fresh on her mind, it was particularly strong. Elizabeth indulged in a moment of self-pity, for herself and for Ella, herself for losing her husband, and Ella for losing her father. 'Ella could have a father,' a traitorous part of her mind whispered.
Elizabeth shook her head sharply and squashed the errant thought. This was ridiculous! She left Ella's room, still shaking her head. While it was true that she wanted Ella to have a father, Romano was the last person she would have considered for the job. 'Well,' she conceded, 'he'd be before Dale Edson.'
She automatically began comparing Romano to Mark, ticking off the points mentally. Mark had been easy to get along with, and Romano was anything but. Mark had been loving and gentle, Romano was brash, arrogant and unkind. And yet . . . there was an element of gentleness to him as well. Elizabeth had seen it first hand.
Elizabeth flopped into her bed and pulled the sheet up over herself as she snorted. It was hardly the basis for a relationship! The image of Romano's face sprang, unbidden, to her mind. She was unable to forget the look of hope that had been so naked in his expression after he had professed his feelings. She sighed.
She hadn't been merely trying to make him feel better when she had said she valued him as a friend, she truly did. No matter how he behaved to others, he had never been cruel to her. Caustic and rude, yes, but never cruel. Elizabeth rolled over restlessly. Just as she was wondering how long it would take her to fall asleep, she drifted off.
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Elizabeth knew it was a dream immediately, and she struggled to stay asleep to savor it. Nimble fingers slid over her body, and she arched up to them. The night exploded into feeling. Her hands skated up a strong back, caressed broad shoulders. A voice came out of the darkness, "I love you, Elizabeth."
"Robert . . ."
Elizabeth jerked awake, the name dying away on her lips. She sat bolt upright and gasped. The dream had been intense, and disconcerting to say the least. Why was she dreaming about Romano? Apparently the theory that stress led to sexual dreams had some weight to it, but it was hardly what she needed. Shaking her head to clear it, she glanced at the clock on the bedside table. 1:30. Only an hour worth of sleep . . . Elizabeth slumped back down on the bed with a groan. It looked like it was going to be a long, difficult night.
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