"Say yes"

The Marquis was by far by far the best restaurant in town. Set in City Park next to the lake, it was surrounded by greenery and secluded, yet had an expansive view of the city's skyline. It was beautiful anytime, but after dark the vista was spectacular.

Hal and Phoebe followed the maitre'd across the plush carpet to their table. They were seated next to the window where their view of the California sunset was unobstructed and they could see the reflection of the colorful sunset on the lake.

"Lovely," Phoebe breathed, gazing out the window and accepting the menu the maitre'd handed her.

"Yes," Hal agreed, glancing out of the window and then back at her, "very."

She met his eyes with a shadow of a smile then perused the restaurant. Tables bordered the sizable dance floor, and a grand fireplace made the polished wooden surface gleam. French doors opened onto a covered terrace for outdoor dining, and a sloping walkway led to a pathway through the park.

"There is a great menu here," Hal told her, "and the wine list is excellent. Would you mind if I selected the wine tonight?"

"Please do," Phoebe said, sipping from her water glass. "I have every confidence in your choice."

"Thank you. I like to put my time in Italy to good use." He winked at her. "Computers weren't the only things I studied in graduate school."

"Computers, wine and women," she was smiling. "Wasn't that it…Hal?" Phoebe hesitated for just a moment when using his first name. It still felt strange.

"Well, yes," he answered. "It was where I met my wife." He seemed not to want to continue that line of conversation, and looked around for their waiter. "I'd like to order soon if you don't mind. For some reason I'm starving."

"You're not used to skipping breakfast," she told him, eyeing her menu.

Hal grinned at her. "You know me too well. This isn't feeling like a first date at all."

"Really?" Phoebe raised an eyebrow at him. "Yet here we are, both dressed up as if it were. Of course, last night was our…what did you call it? Our 'dry run'?"

"I guess last night was our first date," he said thoughtfully. "It certainly felt like one. There was excellent food and wine, no kids around to disturb us; it was our first time dancing together, and our first kiss." Well, there it was, out in the open. Hal paused, waiting to see what Phoebe's reaction would be.

She closed her menu and folded her hands in her lap. Her eyes were downcast and she looked as if she were searching for the right thing to say.

"I'm sorry," Hal said, contrite. "I shouldn't have just said it like that but what happened last night seems to have unsettled both of us and well… I thought it might be something we should talk about." He waited for her reply and when she didn't say anything he pressed on. "Why did you run away from me?"

Phoebe looked across the table at him, almost surprised at his directness. But she knew that was how his mind worked. If he didn't understand something, he would ask questions until his curiosity was satisfied. And this time she had the feeling her frequent evasive tactics wouldn't work with him.

Fortunately, the waiter chose that moment to appear at their table. Hal gave Phoebe a suspicious look, which she answered with wide, innocent eyes.

After they ordered and the waiter departed, Phoebe remarked, "It is such a beautiful sunset, and it looks as if it will be a fine, clear evening with none of the thunderstorms the weatherman predicted. I would love a stroll in the park after dinner." She smiled radiantly at her dinner companion. "This restaurant really is a wonderful choice. Have you been here before?"

Hal nodded slowly, "Yes, but not for years and years." Then he frowned at her. "You didn't answer my question."

She held his eyes with hers for a long moment. "No," she said, "No I didn't and I am sorry." She appeared uncomfortable, but uncharacteristically candid. "I didn't answer you because I honestly don't know why I ran away. Fear, I suppose."

The sunset had faded and Hal's eyes looked very dark in the dim illumination from the candle on the table. He leaned forward and placed his hand lightly over hers. "Fear?" he echoed, "of me?"

Phoebe shook her head. "No, of myself. I…I've never done anything like that before, never felt…" She forced herself to continue looking into his eyes. "I didn't know what to expect from myself or from you and I thought it best to leave under those circumstances. I am here, living in your home with you and your children to provide a service and to fulfill a role. I am not here for us to…"

"I never meant for you to feel…" Hal began, trying to apologize.

"No," she said, quietly, "I know you didn't. And that's not what I mean. You didn't take advantage of your position or act irresponsibly in any way, it was me." Phoebe dropped her eyes to her lap again, struggling to get the words out. "I'm still engaged," she said in a rush. "I had no right to act as I did. I wasn't thinking."

"Neither was I," Hal said dryly, feeling very ill at ease at the affirmation of her engagement. He had irrationally believed that if he ignored that fact, it would simply go away.

"And I am sorry," he continued. "I was swept up in the moment and wasn't thinking about consequences, for you or for me. I hadn't intended to…to seduce you or to make you feel as if you had no option but to…"

"It wasn't like that," Phoebe told him. "Surely you know that. I was overly – enthusiastic – and it could have gotten us both into trouble. And that is why I left. I remembered my responsibilities."

"Responsibility, yes," Hal said deliberately. "Responsibility to your betrothal since birth. The pact your family made for you." He leaned forward again and held her eyes intently, something close to anger flared in his. "But tell me this Phoebe. Something else you've never answered: Do you love him?"

Phoebe swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. She resisted the urge to reach for her water glass as she resisted the urge to flee from him again. What she did do was steady herself and look Hal directly in the eye. Clearly she said, "Yes, I love him."

He didn't flinch. "But are you in love with him?"

The wine arrived and Hal sat back in his chair with an exasperated sigh. He wasn't certain if the untimely appearance of the maitre'd was Phoebe's doing or not, but she took full advantage of the situation by speaking with the waiter in her spirited fashion. Then Hal obliged them both by sampling and approving of the wine. He was only half aware of his own actions, not paying attention to what he was doing. The wine tasted like vinegar in his mouth.

After the waiter departed, Phoebe continued speaking to him enthusiastically about the excellence of the wine and the exceptional quality of the hors d'oeuvres. Hal placed his hand over hers again, this time squeezing her hand gently, effectively stopping her chatter.

"Answer me," he said in a low and impossible to ignore plea.

There was a shadow in Phoebe's eyes that spoke volumes. "No," she said honestly in a quiet, somber tone. "I am not in love with Cholmondeley. But I do love my family dearly and will honor their wishes. It is tradition to join our two families in a marriage contract. For me to break this lineage after so long…"

"Logical," Hal said, interrupting. "A rational, logical and fixed belief system in family, tradition and honor, never to be broken or bended. Two plus two equals four. Rigid. I would never have believed it of you, Phoebe."

She stared at him, lips parted in surprise.

For the third time in three days, Hal Everett had managed to startle her. Only this time he took no satisfaction from that fact.

XXXXXXXXX

Dinner was delicious although neither of them appeared to enjoy their meals very much. Both tried to make polite conversation, but it seemed the two years of consistent denial of what was happening between them had finally run its course. Hal knew he couldn't pretend he merely liked and admired her anymore, or that he was only amused by their harmless flirting. He had to use all of his scientific stoicism to face up to the fact that he was in love with her, and she was going to marry another man. How long they could continue to live together as they had remained to be seen, but he could not imagine their arrangement could last for very much longer.

Sooner or later, Hal admitted to himself, he would want to raise the issue again, and try to force her to confront her real feelings. He knew Phoebe felt strongly for him, and he didn't want to put either of them in a situation where he would feel compelled to manipulate her or seduce her into staying with him. And eventually the temptation to do so would be too hard to resist.

Unknowingly, Phoebe's thoughts were running along an identical course as Hal's. She was also finding it impossible to consider returning to her diligent role of efficient family retainer in his home. Although they had been careful not to say too much, it was understood by both of them that they shared complicated feelings for one another, and that she, as an engaged woman, would not be able to remain in his employ.

Suddenly Phoebe mourned the simple times when she could pretend this family was her own, not only her job, and that there would never come a time she would have to leave them to fulfill her own family's obligations.

The small band that had been playing mellow dinner music began performing slow dance tunes. A girl singer started to croon, and several couples made their way to the dance floor. The lighting in the room dimmed almost imperceptibly and firelight and candlelight dominated. Hal and Phoebe's view of the skyline was sparkling now, and the reflection of a nearly full moon shimmered on the lake's surface. The romantic atmosphere seemed to demand quiet conversation and the intimacy of the dance floor beckoned.

Hal set down his wine glass. "Would it disturb your finely-tuned, rational beliefs if we indulged in another dance?" he asked. "We did get in all of that practice last night, and I don't believe our actions in a public place would embarrass either one of us."

"No use in letting all of that practice and all of this lovely music go to waste." Phoebe began to rise from her chair, accepting Hal's assistance as she stood.

His hand rested lightly on her lower back as he guided her to the dance floor. Once there he drew her gently into his embrace. Phoebe moved closer, and after a moment rested her cheek on his shoulder. She breathed in the familiar, warm scent of sandalwood.

"This is where I love to be," she thought, enjoying the solid feel of him and the smooth way he glided her across the floor. He deftly moved them among the other dancing couples. "How can this be wrong, at all, when it feels so right to be in his arms?"

"If you are wondering if what we are feeling is physical attraction," Hal murmured against her hair, "I'd have to say that empirically there's strong evidence to support that." The hand he'd rested on her waist now traveled up her back to caress the exposed skin below her shoulders. "And I'd say that you had intended to test that hypothesis by wearing this dress tonight." Pulling her closer his voice became softer and deeper. "This silk is delicate and sensual to touch, but it can't compare to the real, warm silk of your skin."

Phoebe signed, enjoying his caress, his words and his voice. She looked up at him, her eyes an alluring shade of blue. 'And I suppose you are running your own experiment, with compliments, touches and the tone on your voice?"

"Of course," Hal said, mildly, "I'm just a poor, logic-minded, mathematics professor. Experiments and seeking empirical evidence is what I do."

"And nothing can impact the balance of that perfect, precise mind?" Phoebe smiled at him now.

"I think you've proven that you can," he kept his eyes locked with hers while still managing to maneuver them carefully through the crowd. "You took the chaotic mess of my home, my family, me – and turned what was upside down right again. And you did it all with charm, grace, and a wisdom I still can't figure our completely." Hal smiled back at her. "Is it mystical knowledge? Is it magic?"

"Does it matter?" she answered his questions with a question and her smile seemed to tremble.

"I don't know," Hal was sincere. "All I seem to know is your softness," he brushed his thumb over the silky skin of the hand he was holding, "and your sweetness," he touched his lips to her temple," has been a wonder to experience. I don't think I'll ever see the world the same again."

"Is that so terrible?" Phoebe asked in a serious voice.

"No," he replied truthfully. "What's terrible is to lose it and to know I can never have it back again."

Their gaze held as the song changed. The band began playing, "The Way You Look Tonight", and Hal smiled down into Phoebe's eyes.

"How appropriate," he said. "Because I know I'll ever forget the way you look tonight, how beautiful, how delicate, and how completely feminine." He brushed soft, blond hair off of her shoulder, and for one breathless moment, Phoebe thought he was going to kiss her, right there in the middle of the crowded dance floor. Instead, Hal bent his head as if to whisper in her ear, and then dropped his lips lower, pressing his open mouth against her neck.

The melting sensations Phoebe felt passed through her in waves until she thought she'd lose her balance. With a subtle frisson she swayed in his arms and barely suppressed the moan rising in her throat.

"You're not playing fair, Hal" she almost gasped.

"I'm not playing," he whispered against her throat. "Not when I have so much to lose. Am I proving my point here?"

"About physical attraction? Oh, yes," Phoebe breathed. "But that only proves my point that…"

"Don't you agree that strong physical attraction is a powerful factor in a long-lasting love relationship?" The lips against her neck pressed a faint kiss there.

"Yes, but…" she began.

Raising his head to look into her eyes again, he looked solemn. His seductive voice turned serious. "And do you think that's all we have?"

Phoebe took in a deep breath, hoping to clear her mind. "No," she answered, "I think we have a great deal more than that. But my obligations to my family and my commitment to them – all of them including Cholmondeley – can't just be forgotten."

"I'm not asking you to forget anything," Hal told her. "I'm just asking you to use a little of your Figalilly spontaneity and wisdom to believe in the rightness of things. To have faith. Even your parents told you that you have to make the decision whether or not to marry Cholmondeley by following what is in your heart."

His earnestness almost frightened Phoebe. Hal had logically thought through all of the arguments and was presenting her with a compelling perspective of her own point of view. Of course, it didn't hurt his argument that he continued to hold her in his arms, his firm body molded to hers, and that his handsome face and irresistible, dark-lashed, blue eyes could persuade her into agreeing with him without words.

Somehow they both realized the music had ended, the band was taking a break and the dancers were leaving the floor. Phoebe was heading back to their table when Hal took her arm and led her towards the wide French doors.

"Let's take that walk in the park you wanted," he said to her in a low voice.

XXXXXXXXX

It was cooler on the terrace and Phoebe suppressed a shudder at the marked temperature drop. Hal took her hand again as they headed towards the path. Many couples had the same idea after leaving the dance floor, but most hovered in the shadows of the terrace or along the edge of the path, not venturing into the park.

They had walked only a few yards when they found themselves virtually alone strolling along the lake, admiring the glittering moon on the water and the twinkling skyline on the horizon. A sharp wind picked up and this time Phoebe did shiver.

"Are you cold?" Hal slipped an arm around her shoulders. "I can go back and get your wrap for you."

"No, I'm fine," she smiled up at him and stepped closer. "I'm warm enough now, Hal."

"Good," he brushed his lips against her temple, inhaling her soft fragrance. "It wouldn't do for you to catch cold."

"That only happens when the north wind blows from the south," Phoebe reminded him. "If that happens, I have plenty of Aunt Daphne's homemade herbal tonic to combat it."

Hal grinned, "Glad to hear it."

Keeping his arm across her shoulders, they walked along in companionable silence a moment, content to enjoy the mild evening, the lovely view, and each other's company.

"You know," Phoebe broke the silence, "my family isn't cruel or exacting, they only want what they think is best for me and what is best for the family – both families. They believe strongly in tradition and honor and sacrifice. I was raised to believe in those values as well."

"So was I," Hal told her.

"I know you were. And I know that is how you are raising your children – with strong values that will service them a lifetime. It's one of the things I admire most about you, one of the first things that made me realize…" she broke off abruptly.

"Made you realize what?" he asked her, pausing on the path.

"Made me realize that you were the kind of man – honorable, principled and living with integrity – that I could love." Phoebe looked up at him with warmth in her eyes. "I respected you from the start, and appreciated how you always treated me with respect. Not only as a gentleman respects a lady, but as a person. But although we may have all of the same values, our world views differ significantly, you must admit."

"I've considered that," Hal told her, a wry smile on his lips.

"But as difficult as it seemed to be for you to accept my point of view at times," she went on, "you still accepted me. Whether or not you believed in what I believed, you never mocked me, or tried to change me, or to censor me in any way. Not even with your children."

"They are lucky to have you," he said gently. "They are lucky to know you and to love you. Who knows? Maybe growing up with both of our perspectives will be beneficial for them. They won't be as rigid as me," Hal grinned, "or as whimsical as you."

"There's nothing wrong with either of us," Phoebe said, answering his grin with a smile. "Science may be closer to mysticism than you think."

"How close?" He slipped both of his arms around her, pressing her slight frame against him. "Close enough to touch?"

Phoebe's eyes were shining in the moonlight and her lips were tempting. If she could intuit his desires she seemed to be all in favor of them. She made no effort to pull away.

Even as he held her closer, Hal told himself that he hadn't intended to kiss her, but the moonlight had other ideas. The force of nature that worked on the tide worked on the blood in his veins and resistance was useless. He brought his mouth to hers again.

And just as it had happened the night before, the first brush of his lips on hers bypassed tenderness and gentleness, erupting into passionate urgency. Hal didn't know if he was responding to his fear and panic over losing her, or if he'd never be able to kiss her without his hunger for her overwhelming him.

At last he broke their kiss. "You've bewitched me," he murmured into her ear breathlessly, "a woman whose lucky guesses and coincidences happen everyday, who talks to animals and plants and predicts the weather – a woman who can charm anyone and make any situation turn out for the best. How can you be?" Hal kissed the throbbing pulse in her throat and in spite of kissing her flesh and feeling her blood rushing under his lips, asked her, dreamily,"Are you a witch? A phantom? A fairy? A pixie?"

"I'm real," Phoebe whispered, an echo from the night before when he hadn't been certain he had heard her speak. "A flesh and blood woman."

"A woman," Hal said and kissed her deeply again, unsure if the low, rumbling sound he heard was distant thunder or his own longing groan.

Suddenly rain pelted down on them. Surprised, they pulled apart and Hal grabbed Phoebe's hand as they rushed up the path to the restaurant.

Stopping under the shelter of the covered terrace, they surveyed one another for damage created from the downpour. Their hair and clothing was wet, but at least they weren't drenched. Hal reached into his jacket pocket and handed Phoebe his handkerchief. She thanked him and began patting her face dry.

"You didn't do this, did you?" Hal asked, laughing and wiping at one sleeve of his dark blue jacket in an effort to brush off some of the rain. He responded to her guileless expression with a raised brow.

"You didn't think it was time for me to take a cold shower?"

Phoebe smiled broadly and he could swear her eyes were twinkling. "I'd say it was time for both of us to take a cold shower."

XXXXXXXXX

Luckily when Hal was parking the car outside of the restaurant earlier that evening, Phoebe had suggested putting Arabella's top up. Now the interior of the car was welcoming and dry, and Phoebe's wrap kept her warm against the chill of the clinging wet silk of her dress. Hal had removed his damp suit jacket and tie and left them to dry in the backseat. He ran his hands through his wet, dark hair.

"Guess we should have paid more attention to the weatherman," Hal chuckled as he started the car. "It sure is coming down now."

"I hope we won't lose power," Phoebe looked worried, glancing at all of the darkened houses on the street. It was difficult to determine if the homes were dark due to the late hour or to power outages.

"Well," he said, "at least the streetlights all appear to be working. That's a good sign. But if we don't have electricity, I can always start a fire, and we have plenty of candles."

Phoebe glanced at him and bit her lip. The amorous closeness they had shared in the park seemed to have dissolved in the rain, replaced by the comfortable domestic intimacy of their working relationship.

"Don't worry," Hal said to her anxious face, "either way we'll still have lots of cold water for the shower."

His quip relaxed Phoebe a little, and she smiled briefly. It had been a while since she had been on a date, and saying good night was sometimes awkward. Even with Cholmondeley. She almost never invited anyone into her home at the end of an evening, and if she did they stayed only long enough to have a cup of coffee. But what had occurred between her and Hal not just tonight, but last night as well, would have made it difficult to leave him on the doorstep under usual circumstances. It made her heart pound to realize he would be coming into the dark and empty house with her tonight. And staying.

The rainy drive home seemed brief on the almost deserted streets. Hal maneuvered Arabella into the open garage and parked next to the station wagon. He let the windshield wipers swipe a time or two then turned off the ignition.

"We're home," he announced unnecessarily, turning to Phoebe in the dim interior of the garage.

She didn't reply, but thought to herself: "We are home. This is my home. I feel as if I've never had any other."

"Phoebe?" Hal asked. He touched her arm when she didn't respond.

"Yes," she looked at him and nodded. "Yes, we are home. Already home." She opened the car door and let herself out, heading for the entrance of the house before Hal could open her car door for her. He followed her into the dark house.

"The lights are working," Phoebe announced, releasing a breath. She had flipped on the kitchen lights and was removing her wrap. "Would you like some coffee or a brandy, Professor?"

"Professor?" Hal frowned. "What happened to 'Hal'?"

"You asked me to call you 'Hal' this evening and I did," Phoebe answered.

"But the evening isn't over," he protested.

"Yes, but," she said, "we are home now, and as lovely as this evening was, we are back home."

"Back to our usual roles, you mean?"

"Yes."

"Back to me being the 'Professor' and your being 'Nanny'." Hal's voice was rising.

"Yes," Phoebe told him, "I've always been 'Nanny'."

"Oh no, you haven't" he said, his frustration showing. "Tonight – and last night- you were Phoebe – a beautiful, warm and passionate woman in my arms. You may be a sprite, a spirit on the wind full of wanderlust and magic, but you are also a flesh and blood woman. And you are tied to earth-bound desires – just as I am."

Hal took the few steps to reach her and held her by each of her slender arms. "I know what I felt these two nights and what I've felt these two years. You've felt it too. I love you, Phoebe. I'm in love with you. And whether you want to admit it or not, due to your sense of misplaced duty or honor or family obligation – you love me too. You're in love with me."

He gripped her harder than he intended, shaking her slightly to emphasize his words. Phoebe stared at him with eyes suddenly full of tears. Her hair had dried into a messy tumble of blond waves, her makeup washed off from the rain, and her thin, silk dress clung to her curves. She looked younger, wilder, and freer than he'd ever seen her – and she'd never been more beautiful.

He took her into his arms, feeling her trembling as she struggled with herself.

"It's over, Phoebe," Hal whispered into her silky hair. "Stop fighting. We've both lost this battle with ourselves trying to decide if we can love each other. Or how we can love each other. Or why. It doesn't matter who we have obligations to or what we think our consequences might be. Everything will be all right. Have faith in me, in you, in us – in our love."

This time when Hal bent to kiss her she met him halfway, clinging to both his neck and his mouth with equal force. She tasted of the rain, and the sweet, warm scent of both lavender and sandalwood surrounded them. The cuckoo clock began to sound, announcing midnight, and again his Cinderella broke away from him.

Not this time. Hal vowed grimly as he rushed after Phoebe. He caught her on the staircase landing, stopping her as his hand encircled her wrist easily.

"I don't care anymore about who you were, where you've been or where you come from," he told her desperately. "If you've taught me anything, it is to stay open to possibilities and not be committed to any outcome – to let the impossible happen."

"But this is impossible," Phoebe's voice was shaking with what seemed like anger. Whether she was angry at him or the situation they found themselves in Hal couldn't tell. "You can't understand my past, my family, my need to make things right for them…" The clock had stopped sounding and in the brief silence they could hear the rain falling hard outside of the door, and soft, rolling thunder in the distance.

"I do love you and I want to stay with you," she told him, sounding trapped and miserable. "But I have a lifetime of training to do the right thing for others – to be responsible for them, to care for them." Phoebe's voice lowered to a whisper and she touched his cheek in a caress. "I cared for you and your family when you needed me, but you don't need me any longer. You can all get along fine without me."

Hal took hold of her hand on his cheek and kissed its palm. "You're wrong," he said. "I need you more than I ever did. I need you more than your family or Cholmondeley ever did or ever could. How can you tell me staying with me, with my family, is impossible?"

"There are things we are born to do. Obligations we are fated to fulfill. No matter what my parents may have told me in that letter, everyone doesn't always get to live their own life. It is sometimes impossible to live up to the ideal of living your own life and being true to the desires of your heart." Phoebe sighed in resignation. "And if I am preordained to live out my life with Cholmondeley and not with you, then than is my own sad destiny."

"And mine," Hal said. "You have fated me to the same outcome and I don't believe in fate." He reached for her and cradled her gently to his chest. Phoebe was crying softly but seemed calmed by his embrace.

"Live the life you choose and be the woman you choose to be. You have all of this love to give, Phoebe. Can't you allow yourself to accept being loved, completely, the way I love you?" He kissed her lips again, softly and tenderly this time, and her response was warm and loving. Passion and desire lay beneath their lingering kiss, both knowing these were the kisses that were made to last throughout a lifetime together.

Phoebe released his lips gently, and looked at him in the low light with a question in her deep, blue eyes.

"You have always said nothing is impossible, an eternal optimist always looking for a miracle, always saying "yes" to life." Hal grazed her cheek with the backs of his fingers, wiping away the tears he found there. "I don't care if you never answer any of my questions about your past, just say "yes" to me now."

Hal kissed her cheeks, her hair, her neck, her shoulders, her throat, and her lips – and between each sweet kiss he whispered to her in his low, melting voice: "Say yes, that you love me; that you are in love with me and that you'll stay with me forever. Say yes, that you will let me make you happy; and you will continue to make me happy. Say yes, that you will tell your family and Cholmondeley that you won't marry him. Say yes, that you will marry me; that you will make love with me and that you will be the mother of my children and I will be the father of your children. Say yes to me Phoebe, say yes… yes… yes."

Lingering tears glistened in Phoebe's eyes as she looked into Hal's. She heard the thunder over the rapid beating of her heart and was reminded that there were things in nature she had always respected and was always connected to – animals, plants, the weather – and she had never denied their irresistible force. Was there any force more natural or irresistible than love? Their love?

Phoebe loved this man completely, loved his children, and loved the home they made together. Suddenly her eyes cleared and she smiled at him. Her face was as open and as bright as it had been on the morning they first met. Hal returned her smile just as he had on that morning and his intuition anticipated her answer:

"Yes."

The End

Author's note: Thanks to everyone for reading. Feedback is very welcome.