“How do they do it?” He stopped at her side, his eyes on the jugglers. It seemed impossible that not one ball fell to the ground.“Determination.” She elbowed him playfully. “And being willing to make a few mistakes.”

“Why are you so determined to make me out to be the bad guy all the time?” I stared at the side of his face, willing him to make eye contact. He didn’t. “I’ve been doing really good lately and you don’t even care.”

“It’s me, you fool. Who do you think it is? I’m coming in.” He was already naked. She turned away from him as he slipped in by her side but he caught her in his arms and felt her body thaw his belly and thighs. That was all, just to lie there listening to the breathing and the silence and feel the warmth colour his belly and thighs and head. She never wore clothes in bed. They were naked and the warmth run out of her. He wanted to laugh, because it was such a marvelous discovery to make, this warmth. She was hissing like a snake.“No, it’s wrong.” She went on hissing. She brought an elbow back smartly and struck him in the paunch. She seemed all elbows, shoulder blades and heels. It was like trying to make love to a dough-mixing machine. She wanted it, didn’t she, otherwise why all this hissing and moaning?”

“Wyatt slowed to a stop. Noah continued on for a few feet before he realized Wyatt had dropped back, and he turned to look at him questioningly.“I don’t think I can do this,” Wyatt said. Noah nodded in understanding and walked back beside him. He reached up and smacked Wyatt on the side of the head.“Did you leave your balls in his toilet too?”" Ow! What? No!”“Then get the lead out, Case,” Noah said as he grabbed Wyatt’s elbow and began pulling him along.“I hate you.”

“His eyes flared, and he tightened his grip on her arm. “Don’t press me, Meg.”She didn’t miss the intimate use of her Christian name, but there was no mistaking the threat this time.His voice was deep and liquid and seemed to wrap around her. She knew she shouldn’t provoke him, but he brought out a mischievous side of her long forgotten. Lifting one brow, she asked, “Or what?”Before the taunt had left her mouth, she was in his arms again and jerked firmly against the broad chest she’d just admired. She gasped. Not from shock, but from the realization of how much she liked being pressed against him. Of how she savored the sensation of her breasts and hips molded against the hard length of his body, of melting against him, of being secured in his arms. A wave of heated awareness shuddered through her.His eyes were hooded, his expression dark and full of promise. “Or I will prove to you just how innocent you are, my sweet, and how very little control you have over a man and a man’s desires.”

“Miranda!” “What?” She batted him with her pillow. “Hoyden! Are you drunk?” “I don’t think so. I’m not sure. They never gave us wine at Yardley. I feel happy.” “Happy?” He grabbed a corner of the pillow as she whacked him again with it. “Stop it!” “You’re too serious, Winterley!” She reached for another pillow. “I will beat you until you smile!” He ducked out of his chair with a rakish grin as she swung at him, then tackled her flat on the soft bed, both of them laughing. “You are . . . impossible,” he chided with a gentle sigh as he braced his elbows on either side of her head. He traced her cheekbones with the pads of his thumbs. “Difficult, but not impossible.” She wrapped her arms around him, relishing the weight of him atop her, the smoothness of his bare chest against her bodice. “It all depends on who’s trying.” “That sounded distinctly like an invitation,” he murmured.”