“As she watched, he examined the can intently, read the ingredients, then returned it to the shelf and chose another, repeating his thorough study of it.The contrast between his rough, tough-guy appearance and the domestic act he was performing did funny things to her head.She had a sudden, breathtaking vision of a dark-haired little boy sitting in the seat of the cart, laughing up at Cian, grabbing at his swinging braids with chubby little fists, while his daddy inspected the ingredients on a jar of baby food. Her mind’s eyepicture of sexy, strong man with beautiful, helpless child made something soft and warm blossom behind her chest.”

“Suddenly he smiled, and the sadness was vanquished by whisky heat. “Aye, Jessica, I like you. And I’m not just stuck with you. You fit me here, woman.” He thumped his chest with his fist. Then he shook her hand from his forearm and pushed off with the cart again. Jessi watched him move down the aisle, all sleek animal muscle and dark grace.Wow. He wasn’t a man of many words, but when he used them, he certainly used the right ones. You fit me here. You are the exception to everything.Crimeny.It was how she’d always thought a relationship should be. People should fit each other: somedays like sexy, strappy high-heeled shoes, other days like comfortable loafers—but always a good fit. And if you cared about someone, they should be the exception to everything; the number-one priority, the one who came before all others.He was halfway down the aisle from her now, plucking acan from the shelf—her primal hunter/gatherer procuring food by modern means, she thought, with a soft snort of amusement.”

“Nope,” she managed. “No other questions.”Eleven centuries of captivity. Hung on his hated enemy’s study wall. Eleven centuries of not touching. Not eating. Not loving. Had he had anyone to talkto?Her face must have betrayed her thoughts, for he startled her by saying softly, “ ’Tis no longer ofconsequence, lass, but thank you for the compassion. ’Tis nigh over. Seventeen more days, Jessica. That’s all.”For some reason his words brought a sudden hot burn of tears to the backs of her eyes. Not only hadn’t eleven centuries turned him into a monster, he was trying to soothe her, to make her feel better about his imprisonment.“You weep for me, woman?”She turned away. “It’s been a long day. Hell, it’s been a long week.”“Jessica.” Her name was a soft command.She disobeyed it, staring out the window at the rolling hills.“Jessica, look at me.”Eyes bright with unshed tears, she whipped her head around and glared at him. “I weep for you, okay?” she snapped. “For eleven centuries stuck in there. Can I start driving again or do you need something else?”He smiled faintly, raised his hand, and splayed his palm against the inside of the silvery glass. Without an ounce of conscious thought, her hand rose tomeet his, aligning on the cool silver,palm to palm, finger to finger, thumb to thumb. And though she felt only a cold hardness beneath her palm, the gesture made something go all warm and soft in her heart.Neither of them spoke or moved for a moment.”

“Although Jillian had known what Grimm was before that moment, she was briefly immobilized by the sight of him. It was one thing to know that the man she loved was a Berserker-it was another thing entirely to behold it. He regarded her with such an inhuman expression that if she hadn't peered deep into his eyes, she might have seen nothing of Grimm at all. But there, deep in the flickering blue flames, she glimpsed such love that it rocked her soul. She smiled up at him through her tears.A wounded sound of disbelief escaped him.Jillian gave him the most dazzling smile she could muster and placed her fist to her heart. "And the daughter wed the lion king," she said clearly.An expression of incredulity crossed the warrior's face. His blue eyes widened and he stared at her in stunned silence."I love you, Gavrael McIllioch."When he smiled, his face blazed with love. He tossed his head back and shouted his joy to the sky.”

“Then her eyes narrowed. The sun was spilling in the window behind her and Dageus's eyes were golden, dappled with darker flecks. Smoky and sensual, fringed by thick dark lashes, but gold nonetheless."What is with your eyes?" she exclaimed. "Is it part of beinga Druid?""What color are they?" he asked warily."Gold."He flashed her another unguarded smile. It was like basking in the sun, she thought, tracing her fingers over his beard-shadowed jaw, smiling helplessly back.”

“He's treating her like she's fourteen and he's a normal adult, acting like he's taken her under his wing. Like he needs her detecting skills, same as Barrons did to Mac, and she's falling for it, same as Mac. He's lining up his dominoes, so they fall more easily when he feels like pushing them over, conserving energy so he doesn't have to hunt her when he's ready to kill her.”

“No new beginnings.Damn it, it shouldn’t bother her!But it did. She tried to turn away, but his hand flashed out and caught her by the chin.“Let me go,” she snapped.“Nay.” His grip was implacable on her jaw.There was little point in fighting for control of her face; he could have hoisted her into the air with that one big hand on her jaw, if he’d wished.He searched her gaze a long silent moment. “You truly doona ken it, do you? Excepting with you, Jessica. You, lass, are the exception to everything,” he said softly.As if he’d not just knocked the breath out of her with those words and left her feeling weak-kneed, he released her chin, turned away, and began pushing the cart again.”