“Brian closed the condition book, pressed his fingers to his tired eyes. Like Paddy, he wasn't quite sure he trusted the computer, but he was willing to fiddle with it a bit. Three times a week he spent an hour trying to figure the damn thing out ith the notion that eventually he could use it to generate his charts. Graphics, they called it, he thought, shifting to give the machine a suspicious glare.Timesaving and efficient, if you believed all the hype. Well,tonight he was to damn tired to spend an hour trying to be timesaving and efficient.He hadn't had a decent night's sleep in a week. Which had nothing to do with his job, he admitted. And everything to do with his boss's daughter.”

“He had plans all right, he thought as Sarah trotted off. To eat crow.He wasn't sure what it tasted like, but he already knew he wasn't going to enjoy it. He walked around to the office, knocked. He supposed if he'd been wearing a hat,he'd have held it in his hands.”

“Bring her back,hell,Grant thought, dragging a hand through his hair. He'd beg,plead,grovel, whatever it took to make her give him another chance. It was her fault, he decided with a quick switch back to fury. Her fault, that he was acting like a maniac. He hadn't had a decent night's sleep in over two weeks.And the solitude he'd always prized was threatening to smother him.If he didn't find her soon, he'd lose what was left of his mind.”

“Moving on was always the end plan.New York,he remembered, was a fair distance away.It should be far enough. As for tonight, he was going to have a shot of whiskey in his tea to help smooth out the edges. Then by God, he was going to sleep if he had to bash himself over the head to accpmplish it.And he wasn't going to give Keeley another thought.The knock on the door had him cursing under his breath.Though she'd been doing well,his first worry was that the mare with bronchitis had taken a bad turn.He was already reaching for the boots he'd shed when he called out."Come in,it's open.Is it Lucy then?""No,it's Keeley." One brow lifted, she stood framed in the door. "But if you're expecting Lucy,I can go."The boots dangled from his fingertips, and those fingertips had gone numb. "Lucy's a horse," he managed to say. "She doesn't often come knocking on my door.”

“There was nothing like an extra helping of guilt to cool a man's blood.And it was guilt as much as the hot food and the glass of good wine that got Brian through the evening in the Grant kitchen. The size of it left little room for lust, considering.There was Adelia Grant giving him a warm greeting as if he was welcome to swing in for dinner anytime he had the whim, and Travis getting out an extra plate himself-as if he waited on employees five days a week-and saying that there was plenty to go around as Brendon had other plans for dinner.Before he knew it, he was sitting down, having food heaped in front of him and being asked how his day had been.And not in a way that expected a report.He didn't know what to do about it. He liked these people, genuinely liked them. And there he was lusting after their daughter. An alley mutt after a registered purebred.”

“I need you to trust me.""Gennie." He took her hand and linked fingers. "I do.That's what I've been trying to tell you.""You haven't been doing a good job of it.""No." He drew her closer. "Let me try again." He kissed her, telling himself to be gentle and easy with her. But his arms locked and tightened, his mouth hungered. The spray shimmered over both of them as they stood entangled.”

“Some women, he thought, had the power to turn a man in the opposite direction from what he wanted. It seemed his fate to run up against them. And, damn it, to care.”