“Erin, I’d like to know you again. Can we do that?” He brushed the back of his knuckles down her cheek.”

“You like doing that, don't you?''Yes, I like kissing you.''No,' she said, 'lifting me off my feet. Carrying me around. Pulling me down to kiss you whenever you get the urge.' She turned to him with a mock glare. 'I think it goes hand in hand with the telling me what to do stuff.'He didn't let go of her hand as he lifted his to run the back of one knuckle down her cheek. 'You like it, too.”

“Don’t cry,nyonda,” he murmured.Phillipa took a deep breath. “What does that mean, anyway? Nyonda?”His green gaze held hers. “It’s Swahili. It means ‘beloved.’” A small smile touched his mouth, and he brushed her cheek again. “You do know I love you, Phillipa. To an alarming degree.”

“Can they, like get fingerprints from her neck? Can they catch the guy that way?”“This guy isn’t an amateur. He probably used gloves.”“How do you know he isn’t an amateur, Sherlock?”“There’s bruising on the left-hand knuckles, and on the sides of both hands. Probably would be on the right-hand knuckles, too, if we had them.”“She hit him,” Howie said. “She fought back.”

“I can’t tell how much of our connection is because of the things we still have in common or the one thing that bonds us for life. But no matter what happens, I know I can totally count on Erin for anything. And she knows I’d do anything for her.”

“She looked up at him with a smile. The smile broke what was left of his resistance - shattered it. He had let the walls down when he'd thought she was gone, and there was no time to build them back up. Helplessly he pulled her against him. For a moment she clung to him tightly, warm and alive in his arms. Her hair brushed his cheek. The color had come back into the world; he could breathe again, and for that moment he breathed her in - she smelled of salt, blood, tears, and Tessa.”