“As they started across the road, a boy biked by,shooting Grant a quick look before he ducked his chin on his chest and pedaled away."One of your admirers?" Gennie asked dryly."I chased him and three of his friends off the cliffs a few weeks back.""You're a real sport."Grant only grinned, remembering his first reaction had been fury at having his peace interrupted, then fear that the four careless boys would break their necks on the rocks. "Ayah," he said, recalling with pleasure the acid tongue-lashing he'd doled out."Do you really kick sick dogs?" she asked as she caught the gleam in his eye."Only on my own land.”

“Now where's this artist?" His eyes darted around the room, landed on Gennie and clung. She thought she saw surprise, quickly veiled, then amusement as quickly suppressed, tug at the corners of his mouth."Daniel MacGregor," Grant said with wry formality. "Genvieve Grandeau."A flicker of recognition ran across Daniel's face before he rose to his rather amazing height and held out his hand. "Welcome."Gennie's hand was clasped, then enveloped. She had simultaneous impressions of strength, compassion, and stubbornness."You have a magnificent home, Mr. MacGregor," she said, studying him candidly. "It suits you."He gave a great bellow of a laugh that might have shook the windows. "Aye.And three if your paintings hang in the west wing." His eyes slid briefly to Grant's before they came back to hers. "You carry your age well, lass."She gave him a puzzled look as Grant choked over his Scotch. "Thank you.""Get the artist a drink," he ordered, then gestured for her to sit in the chair next to his. "Now, tell me why you're wasting your time with a Campbell.""Gennie happens to be a cousin of mine," Justin said mildly as he sat on the sofa beside his son. "On the aristocratic French side.""A cousin." Daniel's eys sharpened, then an expression that could only be described as cunning pleasure spread over his face. "Aye,we like to keep things in the family. Grandeau-a good strong name.You've the look of a queen, with a bit of sorceress thrown in.""That was meant as a compliment," Serena told her as she handed Gennie a vermouth in crystal."So I've been told." Gennie sent Grant an easy look over the rim of her glass. "One of my ancestors had an-encounter with a gypsy resulting in twins.""Gennie has a pirate in her family tree as well," Justin put in.Daniel nooded in approval. "Strong blood. The Campbells need all the help they can get.""Watch it,MacGregor," Shelby warned as Grant gave him a brief, fulminating look.”

“It was when she returned to him, chilled & clearheaded, that it happened. He sat against the tree, his knees bent & his head in his hands. His shoulders slumped. Tired, unhappy. Something tender caught in her breath at the sight of him. And then he raised his eyes and looked at her, and she saw what she had not seen before. She gasped.His eyes were beautiful. His face was beautiful to her in every way, and his shoulders and hands. And his arms that hung over his knees, and his chest that was not moving, because he held his breath as he watched her. And the heart in his chest. This friend. How had she not seen this before? How had she not seen him? She was blind. And then tears choked her eyes, for she had not asked for this. She had not asked for this beautiful man before her, with something hopeful in his eyes that she did not want.”

“Do you believe in love at first sight?"His smile fades, but when I lay my hands on his chest he doesn't pull away. "No, I don't.""Me either," I say. "I think we'll need at least three days.""Three days?""To fall in love."His smile-his real smile, the crooked one that lights him up from the inside out-breaks across his face. He throws back his head and laughs. When he finishes, his arms are around me again and a familiar gleam is in his eyes. "You're very sure of yourself.""No, I'm sure of you." I curl my hands into his coat. "Of us”

“Caine wanted to be a doctor," Serena recalled with an innocent smile. "At least,that's what he told all the little girls.""It was a natural aspiration," Caine defended himself, lifting his hand to his mother's knee while his arm held Diana firmly against him."Grant used a different approach," Shelby recalled. "I think he was fourteen when he talked Dee-Dee O'Brian into modeling for him-in the nude.""That was strictly for the purpose of art," he countered when Gennie lifted a brow at him. "And I was fifteen.""Life studies are an essential part of any art course," Gennie said as she started to draw again. "I remember one male model in particular-" She broke off as Grant's eyes narrowed. "Ah,that scowl's very natural,Grant,try not to lose it.”

“There was a little girl, who had a little curl, right in the middle of her forehead. When she was good . . .” His voice trailed off in the middle of the sentence.Laura found herself caught in the intensity of his gaze and muttered the end of the rhyme. “. . . She was very, very good, and when she was bad . . .”Gabriel finished what he had started, grinning at his own wit. “. . .She was better.”Laura’s eyebrows arched as she hid a quick smile. “That’s not the way I learned it.”Gabriel picked up his fork and dug back into his salsa-spiced eggs. “If you’d been a boy, you would have.”