“It’s Adria’s face I see when I think of home.”

“No, Nathan, no." She wrapped his face in her hands. "I just need you--all of you--so much that I'm going crazy. I need your laugh. I need your company. I need you to sleep beside me and I need you to wake when I wake. I need you with everything in me.”

“I might not be Silent any longer, but I still have the perfect poker face.”

“I ain't no Psy, Ms. Aleine, but even us dumb animals know when two people start exchanging thoughts, something's going on."She narrowed her eyes at his smug tone. "It was a coincidence.""Baby, when I think about my body, I don't focus on my cock.”

“God, I love your skin.”“My skin?” She glanced uncomprehendingly at her own arm when he rose from nibbling at her. “It’s brown.”“It’s melted chocolate and coffee with cream, exotic as the fucking desert, and so damn erotic. I have wet dreams about you naked on my sheets, your skin smooth and hot from the sun’s rays.”She swallowed, chest heaving. “You make me sound edible.”He purred. “You are.”

“I don’t want the … issues between us”—raging sexual arousal fused with the red haze of the anger that licked the air—“to bleed over into our working relationship. Let’s agree to stay out of each other’s way as much as possible, and be polite when it’s not.”

“I’ll get you another red dress.”She wiped the backs of her hands over her cheeks at the snarl. “You will?”He glared down at her. “Yes. But you must not cry. I won’t get you any dresses if you cry.”“I don’t normally cry.”“You will never do it.”“Well, I’m afraid I may sometimes,” she said apologetically. “Women need to cry.”Lines formed between his brows. “How many times in a year?”“Maybe five or six,” she said, thinking about it. “But really, it’s usually a very small cry and not in front of anyoneAt that, his scowl grew even darker. “I will permit you to cry four times a year. And you will do it when I am here.”