“Simon,” she whispered, vaguely surprised that she had just used his first name, for she had never used it even in the privacy of her thoughts. Moistening her dry lips, she tried once more, and to her astonishment, she did it again. “Simon…”“Yes?” A new tension had entered his long, hard body, and at the same time, his hand moved over the shape of her skull in the softest caress possible.“Please… take me to my room.”Hunt tilted her head back gently and regarded her with a sudden faint smile playing on his lips. “Sweetheart, I would take you to Timbuktu if you asked.”

“Slowly his resistance ebbed. She felt the change in his body, the relaxing of tension, his shoulders curving around her as if he could draw her into himself. Murmuring her name, he brought her hand to his face and nuzzled ardently into her palm, his lips brushing the warm circlet of her gold wedding band. “My love is upon you,” he whispered…and she knew then that she had won.”

“Murmuring her name, he brought her hand to his face and nuzzled ardently into her palm, his lips brushing the warm circlet of her gold wedding band. 'My love is upon you,' he whispered... and she knew then that she had won.”

“Rest,” Logan said. “Both of you.” His caressing gaze moved over his wife and infant daughter.“I'll watch over you.”“Love me?” Madeline asked with a faint smile, and yawned again.“It used to be love.” He brushed his lips over her closed eyelids. “Now there's no word for it.”“You once told me that you thought love was a weakness.”“I was wrong,” he whispered, kissing the corners of her mouth. “I've discovered it's my onlystrength.”Madeline fell asleep with a smile still on her lips, her hand curled around his.”

“Love me?” Madeline asked with a faint smile. “It used to be love.” He brushed his lips over her closed eyelids. “Now there's no word for it.” “You once told me that you thought love was a weakness.” “I was wrong,” he whispered, kissing the corners of her mouth. “I've discovered it's my only strength.”

“I can't see why you should want to dance with me now, when you never have before." The statement was more revealing than she had intended it to be. She cursed her own wayward tongue, while his speculative gaze wandered over her face."I wanted to," he surprised her by murmuring. "However, there always seemed to be good reasons not to.""Why--""Besides," Westcliff interrupted, reaching out to take her gloved hand, "there was hardly a point in asking when your refusal was a forgone conclusion." Deftly he pressed her hand to his arm and led her toward the mass of couples in the center of the room."It was not a forgone conclusion."Westcliff glanced at her skeptically. "You're saying that you would have accepted me?""I might have.""I doubt it.""I did just now, didn't I?""You had to. It was a debt of honor."She couldn't help but laugh. "For what, my lord?""The calf's head," he reminded her succinctly."Well, if you hadn't served such a nasty object in the first place, I wouldn't have needed to be rescued!""You wouldn't have need to be rescued if you didn't have such a weak stomach.""You're not supposed to mention body parts in front of a lady," she said virtuously. "Your mother said so."Westcliff grinned. "I stand corrected.”

“She was yours, if you'd truly wanted her," Harry continued, a pitiless smile touching his lips. "But I wanted her more.”