Just to be on the safe side, a few minutes later while cutting a fork into her sinful pleasure, she promised herself silently. In regard to taking Ken's suggestions, she would do as a young journalism student had once been advised by his instructor: "Don't trust anyone. Check them out. If your mother says she loves you, check it out."

But Ken Knowland was persistent, after flying her back to her airport at Mohave that night. Not only in his argument about investing, but in his behavior in the moonlight. As they stood on her airstrip, he first caressed her hair, then kissed her on the lips, and she responded willingly as his hands began to explore her.

He looked around, as if wondering if there was somewhere they could go. She nodded, to the office, where she had put a small sitting room in, with a couch for when she was too tired to go home and slept there overnight.

Ken Knowland made love to her that night, kissing her and touching her breasts, and she found herself wanting him to take her. She had not "checked out" his real feelings for her; she just knew he wanted to make love to her. She knew there was a difference. She always told herself she would not settle for less than a man's love. Much as she wanted to be loved, desire for her body would not be enough.

She had begun to feel some kind of love for Ken Knowland.

But it was not a deep, all-consuming love. She hoped it could grow into that. First, he had to convince her that he loved her and not just wanted her body.

Knowland's love-making did not convince her he wanted more than sex from their relationship. She let him kiss her, and returned his kisses. She even let him partially undress her and fondle her breasts and kiss them.

She almost cried out for wanting him to love her. But all she really felt he wanted from her was to use her for his own needs, not hers.

When he lowered his trousers and tried to penetrate her, she asked him not to. She did not want his lust; she wanted his love. He had worked himself up into such a passion by then, he was reluctant to leave off on her.

She moved away from him and he gave up mumbling "Fuck!" When he said that, she knew she had been right in refusing him his will with her.

For Barbara it had been an unsatisfying, disappointing end to an otherwise wonderful evening. She felt the same about their relationship. By the time he left, she was no longer sure of her own feelings for him.




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