“(...)Did she really tell Roddy Carstairs she could outshoot him with his own pistol?""No," Jason said dryly. "She told him that if he made one more improper advance to her, she would shoot him- and if she missed, she would turn Wolf loose on him. And if Wolf didn't finish the job, she had every faith I would." Jason chuckled and shook his head. "It's the first time I've been nominated for the role of hero. I was a little crushed, however, to be second choice after the dog.”

“A rueful smile touched Lauren's lips as she turned her head toward the window. Everyone always said she was so intelligent, so sensible, yet here she was, already planning to make Nick Sinclair fall in love with her...because she knew she was already falling in love with him."Lauren,this trip is getting a little lonely on my side of the car. What are you thinking about?"Filled with thoughts of their destiny, Lauren turned to him and, smiling, slowly shook her head. "If I told you, it would scare you to death.”

“What did she say?" Lauren breathed."She told me to check the oil," Nick replied imperturbably.Despite his outward attitude of total indifference, Lauren couldn't believe that as a younger man he'd been so vulnerable. Surely having his own mother treat him as if he didn't exist must have hurt him terribly. "Is that all she said?" she asked tightly.Unaware that Lauren was not sharing his ironic humor in the story,he said, "No-I think she asked me to check the air in her tires too."Lauren had kept her voice neutral, but inwardly she felt ill. Tears stung her eyes, and she turned her face up to the purpling sky to hide them,pretending to watch the lacy clouds drifting over the moon."Lauren?" His voice sounded curt."Hmmmm?" she asked,staring steadfastly at the moon.Leaning forward,he caught her chin and turned her face toward his. He looked at her brimming eyes in stunned disbelief. "You're crying!" he said incredulously.Lauren waved a dismissing hand at him. "Don't pay any attention to that-I cry at movies too.”

“He waited until she was standing directly across his desk from him before he said quietly, "You've chosen a poor time to apologize,Lauren. I have to leave for a luncheon appointment in five minutes."Lauren almost choked on his outrageous presumption that she owed him an apology,but she merely favored him with an amused smile. "I hate to bruise your ego, but I didn't come up here to apologize.”

“Royce understood then why she had come: she had come to finish the task her relatives had begun; to do to him what he had done to her brother. Unmoving, he watched her, noting that tears were pouring down her beautiful face as she slowly bent down. But instead of reaching for his lance or her dagger, she took his hand between both of hers and pressed her lips to it. Through his daze of pain and confusion, Royce finally understood that she was kneeling to him, and a groan tore from his chest: "Darling," he said brokenly, tightening his hand, trying to make her stand, "don't do this…"But his wife wouldn't listen. In front of seven thousand onlookers, Jennifer Merrick Westmoreland, countess of Rockbourn, knelt before her husband in a public act of humble obeisance, her face pressed to his hand, her shoulders wrenched with violent sobs. By the time she finally arose, there could not have been many among the spectators who had not seen what she had done. Standing up, she stepped back, lifted her tear-streaked face to his, and squared her shoulders.Pride exploded in Royce's battered being—because, somehow, she was managing to stand as proudly—as defiantly—as if she had just been knighted by a king.”

“Sam Littleton was a beautiful woman who would try to play women's games. That meant that if he asked her if she was upset with him about something, she would do what women all do at such times: She would deny that anything was wrong, then continue acting as if something was wrong, in hopes that he would do what men always do at such times -beg for an explanation, agonise over the answer, ask for hints, and agonise a little more.”

“Let's get it over with, so I can stop wondering. How many have there been?"Lauren stared at him."How many what?""Lovers," he clarified bitterly.She could hardly believe her ears. After treating her as if her standards of morality were childish, after acting as if promiscuity was a virtue, after telling her how man preferred experienced women, he was jealous. Because now he cared.Lauren didn't know whether to hit him, burst out laughing or hug him. Instead she decided to exact just a tiny bit of revenge for all the misery and uncertainty he had put her through. Turning,she walked over to the bar and reached for a bottle of white wine. "Why should the number make any difference?" she asked innocently. "You told me in Harbor Springs that men don't prize virginity anymore, that they don't expect or want a woman to be inexperienced.Right?""Right," he said grimly, glowering at the ice cubes in his glass."You also said," she continued, biting back a smile, "that women have the same physical desires men have,and that we have the right to satisfy them with whomever we wish.You were very emphatic about that-""Lauren," he warned in a low voice, "I asked you a simple question. I don't care what the answer is, I just want an answer so I can stop wondering. Tell me how many there were. Tell me if you liked the, if you didn't give a damn abou them,or if you did it to get even with me.Just tell me.I won't hold it against you."Like hell you wouldn't! Lauren thought happily as she struggled to uncork the bottle of wine. "Of course you won't hold it against me," she said lightly. "You specifically said-""I know what I said," he snapped tersely. "Now,how many?"She flicked a glance in his direction, implying that she was bewildered by his tone. "Only one."Angry regret flared in his eyes,and his body tensed as if he had just felt a physical blow. "Did you...care about him?""I thought I loved him at the time," Lauren said brightly, twisting the corkscrew deeper into the cork."All right.Let's forget him," Nick said curtly. He finally noticed her efforts with the wine bottle and walked over to help her."Are you going to be able to forget him?" Lauren asked, admiring the ease with which he managed the stubborn cork."I will...after a while.""What do you mean,after a while? You said there was nothing promiscuous about a woman satisfying her biological-""I know what I said,dammit!""Then why do you look so angry? You didn't lie to me,did you?""I didn't lie," he said, slamming the bottle onto the bar and reaching for a glass from the cabinet. "I believed it at the time.""Why?" she goaded."Because it was convenient to believe it," he bit out. "I was not in love with you then."Lauren loved him more at that moment than ever. "Would you like me to tell you about him?""No," he said coldly.Her eyes twinkled, but she backed a cautious step out of his reach. "You would have approved of him. He was tall, dark, and handsome, like you. Very elegant,sophisticated and experienced. He wore down my resistence in two days,and-""Dammit, stop it!" Nick grated in genuine fury."His name is John."Nick braced both hands on the liguor cabinet,his back to her. "I do not want to hear this!""John Nicholas Sinclair," Lauren clarified.”