Tonight had magnified their differences. For the moment, she'd stepped into the room it had been apparent she didn't belong. Brian's world was light years away from anything she'd ever known. He was accustomed to wealth, influential people, and a certain amount of power.

Her job was almost complete, and she couldn't be anything but happy with how things have worked out. Her heart, however, was weeping for the man who had cried out for her in his sleep. But he was lost to her forever.

"I thought I'd find you here," Brian spoke from behind.

"You should be with your guests," she mumbled, not turning.

"Why didn't you come back?"

She could hear the sound of his crutches as he moved closer to her side.

Tension crackled in the space separating them.

"I couldn't." Her weak voice was barely audible.

"That's not an answer."

"All right, I don't belong in there. Is that what you want me to say? Because it's true." Her lower lip quivered.

"Don't give me that garbage." The angry words exploded into the still night. A hand on her shoulder turned her around.

Anna hung her head, not wanting him to see the tears that brimmed, ready to spill down her pale cheek. "How's Samantha?"

"Fine. We didn't talk long. I was to eager to find you." A hand stroked the slender curve of her neck and down her shoulder. The other found it's way to the back of her neck. A fiery warmth rushed down her spine. "How long is it going to take you to learn that the two of us belong together? We're a team." The pressure of his hands brought her up onto her tiptoes.

"Don't," she pleaded, and he voice trembled. "Brian, I can't bear it. Please don't."

His hand closed more firmly around her neck, bringing her against the solid wall of his chest.

"Don't you know yet how much I love you?" His voice was incredibly gentle, caressing her upturned face. Agony was tearing at her heart. "You can't love me."

"But I do." His mouth moved against her hair in a rough action. The heat of his body burned through the flimsy material of her dress. His heartbeat hammered erratically against her palm.

For a moment she managed to elude his searching kiss, but when his mouth found hers, all protest died. She wound her arms around his neck and gave herself completely to his probing kiss. Everything went spinning, a magical merry-go-round that ascended to dizzying heights. Feeling boneless, she molded her body to his. Brian had once said they fit perfectly together. For the first time, she was able to test how accurate his statement was.

"Come on, my Anna," he whispered against her nape.

"As much as I want to stay here and hold you the rest of our lives, we have to go back." He chuckled softly. "At this point, it would be best to avoid Mother's wrath."

Anna sat on a burned-out log along the beach. Her flute lay across her lap and L.J hobbled about her feet. The early morning air contained a crisp chill, but she was only vaguely aware of her surroundings. "I should be the happiest woman in the world," she told the attentive gull. "Brian said he loved me last night." She raised the flute to her lips and played a few mournful notes. "Talk to me L.J. Tell my why I feel so miserable."

The bird looked at her blankly.

"Come on," she moaned regretfully. "This isn't doing any good. Let's go back."

She stood and continued to play as she walked along the sand-covered shore, L.J. trailing behind. Once she glanced back, and a smile lit up her face. She felt like a pied piper.

When the house came into view, she noted Brian standing on the verandah, looking out. She paused and waved. He returned the gesture, but even from this distance she could see that something was bothering him.

He was still outside when she put L.J. back into the fenced yard and returned to her room. She carelessly laid the flute across the mattress and joined him on the wooden deck.

"What's wrong?"

He glared at her for a moment, his look thoughtful. "I didn't know you still had that bird."

"He's just like a pet now."

"The two of you made quite a pair walking on the beach like that." Somehow he didn't sound like it was a pleasant sight.

"Something's troubling you. What is it, Brian?" She placed her hand on his forearm, and he covered it with his own.

"You say the bird is tame. For everyone?"

"No, only me. But I was the one who treated him and I'm the one who feeds him."

"Hasn't he ever given any indication he wants to be free?"

"No..." She stopped, remembering the other day when some gulls were near.

"I notice his wing is still bandaged. I'd think by now it would be healed."

Anna straightened her back and took a step in retreat. "What you're suggesting is that the time has come to set the bird free." She struggled to take the protest out of her words.

"I know how you feel about him."

"You couldn't possibly know. I found him; I was the one who took care of him. He eats right out of my hand now. He's tame, I tell you. He doesn't want his freedom; he's content to stay here." Her voice became thinner with every word she argued.

"You're right," Brian reasoned. "The bird is yours; you're the one who worked with him. I'm just asking that you think about it."

Anna tried to smile, but the effort resulted in a mere trembling of her mouth. Swallowing back a sob, she squared her shoulders. "I think you're right. L.J. deserves a better life than this." Abruptly she turned around, intent on doing it while the strength of her convictions remained strong.

"Where are you going?"

"To set L.J. free."

"It doesn't have to be done now."

"Yes, it does." Unreasonably she felt like shouting at him.

Her mouth was set in a firm, unyielding line as she marched down to the back portion of the yard and opened the gate. She didn't need to say a word for the gull to come rushing out. Like a tiny robot he followed her down to the beach.

Tears blurred her eyes as she knelt at his side and unwrapped the gauze bandage from his wing. Carefully she extended it, checking for any further damage. There wasn't anything that she could see.

"We've become good friends over the last few weeks, haven't we, Long John?"

He tested his new freedom, the quirked his small head at an inquiring angle when he experienced the first unruffling of his broad wingspan.

Anna bit into the corner of her bottom lip at the happy squawk he gave.

"The time has come for you to go back to your other friends." Her voice was incredibly weak.

The bird continued to stare back at her.

"Go on," she urged. "Fly away. Scat."

He didn't budge.

"Brian's right," she spoke in a whisper. "He told me it was time to set you free." Anna choked on a sob. "But it wasn't you he was talking about. Brian's ready too."

"Long John," she groaned. "This is hard enough without you making it any more painful." She rose and brushed the sand from her pants. "You're fee. Go."

Still he didn't move.

Anna began to run, and to her horror the bird followed behind as he'd done so many times in the past.

"No." She shouted and waved her hands in an effort to frighten him away.

He looked at her as if he were laughing.

She picked up a pebble and tossed it at him. It bounced a few inches away.

He let out an angry squawk.

"Go," she shouted with all her strength. Just when it didn't look as if anything she did would many any difference, another gull swooped onto the beach.

"Your friends are here," she told him in a gentle voice that probably confused him all the more. "Go to them. It's where you belong."

He glanced from her to the sky. Testing his wing a second time, he rose and hovered in the air above her. He seemed reluctant to go.

Standing completely still, Anna placed a hand over her mouth and raised the other on in a final salute to the bird she had come to love. Burning tears streamed down her cheek.

Her heart breaking, she stayed on the shore until he was out of sight. She turned, and the beach house loomed before her.