“That savage, he thought. Don’t think you can push me aside so easily.Shark attack! Look out, cara, he is swimming toward you.” Aidan deliberately lightened the mood between Alexandria and himself.”

“I think the living room is the perfect place to put the flowers,” Alexandria agreed. “When Thomas comes over, he’ll be able to see them.”Aidan found himself gritting his teeth. Alexandria was already flitting from the kitchen. He caught Marie by the shoulder before she could follow, leaned down, and put his mouth to her ear. “Couldn’t you have thrown the damn things out?” The words came out somewhere between a hiss and a growl. “And just for the record, you traitor, Ivan is not her man. I am.”Marie looked shocked. “Not yet, you’re not. I believe you still have to court her. And of course I would never throw roses out, Aidan. When a man goes to the trouble of giving a woman flowers, she should at least have the pleasure of seeing them.”“I thought you didn’t like this bum.”“He can’t be all bad. You should have seen his concern for her. I tell you, Aidan, he’s really taken with her.” Marie was deliberately, innocently, enthusiastic. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about her when she’s with him.” She attempted to sound reassuring.Behind them, Stefan was choking again. Aidan swore eloquently in three languages and followed Alexandria out of the room, shaking his head over the workings of the female mind.Stefan put an arm around Marie. “Wicked, wicked woman.”She laughed softly. “This is fun, Stefan. And it’s good for him.”“Be careful, woman. He is not like other men. He might kill to keep her. His nature is that of a wild predator,” Stefan warned gravely. “We’ve never seen him like this.”

“But even as he reached out to cup he face he heard an angry buzzing, and a huge black bee dive-bombed him from out of nowhere. With an oath, Thomas jumped back, swatting ineffectually at the persistent insect. As his left foot came down he turned his ankle and nearly fell.Alexandria’s hand covered her mouth in horror. Aidan, stop it right now!I cannot imagine what you are accusing me of, Aidan returned innocently from the living room. But I have not done anything. He smiled and moved slowly toward her. Yet.“Marie!” In a panic, Alexandria called out as loudly as she could.Aidan laughed as the housekeeper hurried in. Little coward, run while you can.Though they were half a room apart and Marie was squarely between them, Alexandria felt the brush of his fingers on her skin, her face, her throat. They trailed lower, feather-light, to touch the aching swell of her breast before the sensation was gone.“What is it, Alexandria?” Marie asked, her hands on her hips, glaring at Aidan.He held up a placating hand, laughing. “I am innocent. I was a perfect gentleman to her visitor.”“He spilled Thomas’s coffee, made him sneeze, smeared whipped cream over him, and chased him with a bee,” Alexandria accused.While Marie struggled to keep a straight face, Alexandria delivered a final outrage. “And he was going to wither my flowers.”“Aidan!” Marie reprimanded sharply, but there was laughter in her eyes.”

“If you don’t get out of my way right this minute, I’m going to . . .” She pictured bringing up her knee hard and watching him writhe in pain on the floor. The image in her mind was as vivid as his shark image had been. Aidan leapt away from her, laughing as he did so. “You have a nasty little temper, Alexandria.”

“Now listen, Gunnar," Cara is saying, "Jon told me you thought you needed to move out, but you don't have to, you know. It's not a big deal. Plus, we'll be engaged for a while before we actually get married so it's not—""Actually, Vance asked me to move in with him," Gunnar says, going for casual and missing it by a mile.Cara steps back, eyebrows raised, "Wanna run that by me again?""Vance. He asked me to move in with him.""And you said?""I said yes."Cara lets out a shriek that sends Jon and Gunnar into a defensive crouch. "That's. Well that's fantastic, Gunnar. I didn't think you had it in you!""Oh, thanks so much," Gunnar says (although to be fair, even he didn't think he had it in him).”

“A schlemihl is a schlemihl. What can you "make" out of one? What can one make out of himself? You reach a point, and Profane knew he had reached it, where you know how much you can and cannot do. But every now and again he got attacks of acute optimism.”