“His face was tense, his jaw flexed as he stared at her. She could hardly stand to meet his eyes. They were an ocean of betrayal. They probed her, searching for the smallest sign that she didn't mean it. That spark of hope that never seemed to go out.”

“He angled his mouth across hers, his kiss gentle, seductive, but sweet in a way that made her forget they were standing naked in the middle of the ocean. It was a kiss that explored more than the physical. He seemed to probe her emotions as well, and laid his own out for her to do with what she would.”

“His hand came out and captured her by the chin. She froze, finding it hard to breathe as he gently raised her face to meet his gaze.”

“Laurel look up at him in question, but he wouldn't meet her eyes. She always wished she had more time to draw secrets from him. "I'll wear it always," she said."And think of me?" His eyes held her captive, and she knew there was only one answer."Yes.""Good."She started to turn, but before she could step away, Tamani grabbed her hand. Without breaking eye contact, he raised her hand to his face and brushed his lips over her knuckles. For just a second, his eyes were unguarded. A spark went through Laurel at what she saw there: raw, unbridled desire.Before she could look any closer, he smiled, and the flash was gone.”

“Ciaran broke the silence and spoke quietly. "She means naught to me."A tear fell down her cheek and she wiped it away. "It doesnae matter--truly," she whispered.He reached out and gently brushed her arms. When she closed her eyes to avoid his probing gaze, he raised her chin with his finger. "It matters to me," he said solemnly. He wiped her tears with his thumb. "I told her we were done when I returned to Glenorchy. She wasnae pleased. I didnae know she was there, Rosalia. She saw ye and Aisling and threw her body upon me."She could not help but smirk. "Her verra bare body, my laird."He paused for a moment, a spark of some identifiable emotion in his eyes. "I didnae notice, Rosalia. All I saw was ye.”

“She dug around in her bag, found what she was looking for, and brought the little stuffed dog back to bed with her. Childish, yeah. She didn't care. He was soft and cuddly-unlike Jones-and she had a need for soft and cuddly right now. She'd like to meet a woman who could breeze through a shotgun blast and not need something to hold on to. Even if it was just an old stuffed pup.(...)She swallowed hard,then caught her breath when he opened his eyes, turned his head on the pillow toward her. He searched her face in the dark."Come here," he whispered.When she hesitated, he reached for her. "The dog can come, too.”