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organization respects everything that you are trying to do in Washington.” Even to her own ear, the wooden sound of her voice was awkward. “The Rights of Minors Act, if it passes, could be a noble first step. Your bill touches on all the major points—”
    “Dr. Patterson,” he interrupted, crossing his arms over his chest, “I didn’t come here to listen to flattery, although—” again the faint mockery “—it is always appreciated. But let’s get to the point, shall we? What are your objections?” His directness startled her, momentarily tying her tongue as she wondered exactly how blunt she dared be. “Well…?” he prodded, glancing again at his watch for effect. Furious at his insolence, disgusted at her own timidity, she finally spoke.
    “It’s all watered down. The bill doesn’t go far enough.” There seemed no point in soft-pedaling her criticisms. “You’ve touched on all the critical matters of education, housing, health care, parental responsibility, legal representation, custody, adoption, and protection from abuse and neglect, but you simply don’t go far enough.” Pausing to catch her breath, she studied the intent face before her, but to no avail.
    “Go on.” His reaction, if any, was well hidden behind the mask of the politician. But, having been started on a subject so dear to her, Daran would have continued now even in the face of outright fury.
    “Take the matter of health care. Whether it is something as urgent as the early treatment of cancer, or a thing as fundamental as good nutrition, or the simple right of a child to have his teeth straightened and save himself innumerable problems later in life—your general wording is not going to guarantee these things.”
    When she paused this time, it was for a totally different reason. For the placid mask had slipped to reveal an unexpected and, from her point of view, unappreciated, smugness. Deep inside, she wondered whether this overbearing man had heard a word she had just said. To her subsequent chagrin, the thought tumbled forth.
    “You’re looking particularly pleased with yourself, Senator. Am I missing something?” Her choice of wording could not have been worse, for the suggestive light which came to his eye.
    “Oh, it’s not me I’m pleased with. And, no, you’re not missing a thing.” With infinite slowness and devastating thoroughness, his eye traveled her length, his meaning crystal clear.
    Indignance lifted her chin. “Did you hear what I’ve told you … about the Rights of Minors Act?”
    “Uh-huh.” His gaze locked once more with her own. This time the shiver that passed through her could not be suppressed. In its wake, her own mind began to recalculate.
    Despite the image that had preceded him, she had planned to confront a senator, an esteemed higher-up of the United States governmental structure. Instead, she found herself face-to-face with a man and acutely aware of her own existence as a woman. Her challenge was an impulsive one. “Senator, may I ask a straight question?” At his immediate nod, she plundered on. “What did you expect to find when you arrived here today?” The male mind was often more simple to understand at its most base stage. In this assumption she was right on target.
    Without hesitation of voice or lapse of eyehold, the senator confirmed her suspicion. “I pictured a Dr. Patterson who was very intelligent, very dedicated, and very plain. I was right on the first two counts.”
    Ignoring the lefthanded compliment, Daran bristled at the chauvinistic edge to his arrogance. “And why must a woman who is intelligent and dedicated be plain, if I might ask?” Her hands had moved to her hips and sat there now in subtle provocation. At that particular moment, she was unaware of exactly how far from plain she was. With the wisps of curls escaped from their tentative bonds and setting her face in a sensual frame, the flush of anger, excitement, or both on her cheeks, and the sparks