“Careful,” he said. “If you keep blushing like that I may do more than just draw you.”

“Why do you always look like you just rolled out of bed?''Because usually I have.' And the way he raised his eye-brow at me made me blush.'Classy,' I said.”

“When I talked to him earlier, he said he had to work tonight,” Peter explained, “but that we should go ahead and draw for him.” “Draw?” I asked uneasily. “Oh Lord. Tell me it’s not Pictionary night too.”Peter sighed wearily. “Draw for secret Santas. Do you even read the e-mails I send?”“Secret Santas? Seems like we just did that,” I said.“Yeah, a year ago,” said Peter. “Just like we do very Christmas.”

“I love you,” he said. “I want you more than life itself. Forever.” He brushed a hand across her cheek. “And I will take care of you always.”

“We’ll do it,’ said Will Scott comfortably, shouting over the tumult. ‘If it’s no more than an hour, we’ll do it.’ ‘Christ, I believe you’re sorry, you flaming maniac,’ said Lymond. ‘Don’t I keep telling you that this is bloody childishness, and don’t you keep agreeing?”

“Do you remember the first time we made love?" He touched his lips to hers as he said it. "We rode up in the elevator like this and couldn't keep our hands off each other, couldn't get to each other quick enough. I was mad for you. I wanted you more than I wanted to keep breathing. I still do." He deepened the kiss as the elevator doors opened. "It's never going to change.”