“Looking up, she watched the balloons dance at the tops of their strings. Hanging by a ribbon at the end was a little white card.She wouldn't even open it, she told herself.She knew who they were from anyway. Who else? No,she wasn't going to open it.In fact,she was going to find a pin and pop every last balloon. What were they but a bunch of hot air? It was ridiculous.To prove a point, Shelby let the strings go so the balloons drifted up to the ceiling. If he thought he was going to win her over with silly presents and clever little notes...he was absolutely right, dammit.Shelby jumped up, swearing when she missed the strings by inches.Hauling over a chair,she climbed into it and grabbed the card.The yellow's for sunshine, the pink's for spring.Share them with me.Alan."You drive me crazy," she muttered, standing in the chair with the balloons in one hand and the card in the other. How did he know,how could he know just the sort of thing that would get to her? Strawberries and pigs and balloons-it was hopeless. Shelby stared up at them, wishing she didn't need to smile.”

“How long are you staying?"This time she did laugh. "Always gracious.A few days," she told him. "No more than a week.No,please." She held up her hand, palm up. "Don't beg me to extend my visit; I simply can't stay any longer." She knew he would scowl and swear and open his house to her for as long as she needed.He finished off the last of his eggs. "Okay, you can drive into town for supplies while you're here.""Always happy to be of service," Shelby muttered. "How do you manage to get every major newspaper in the country delivered out here?""I pay for it," he said simply. "They think I'm odd.""You are odd.”

“Hello."Her mood deflated as if she'd been pricked with a pin. "Alan.""Shelby."She struggled not to be moved by the quiet,serious tone that should never have moved her.She liked men with a laugh in their voice. "Alan, this has to stop.""Does it? It hasn't even started.""Alan-" She tried to remember her decision to be firm. "I mean it. You have to stop sending me things. You're only wasting your time.""I have a bit to spare," he said mildly. "How was your week?""Busy.Listen,I-""I missed you."The simple statement threw the rest of her lecture into oblivion. "Alan, don't -""Everyday," he continued. "Every night. Have you been to Boston, Shelby?""Uh...yes," she managed, busy fighting off the weakness creeping into her. Helplessly she stared up at the balloons. How could she fight something so insubstantial it floated?"I'd like to take you there in the fall, when it smells of damp leaves and smoke."Shelby told herself her heart was not fluttering. "Alan, I didn't call to talk about Boston.Now,to put it in very simple terms,I want you to stop calling me, I want you to stop dropping by, and -" Her voice began to rise in frustration as she pictured him listening with that patient, serious smile and calm eyes. "I want you to stop sending me balloons and pigs and everything! Is that clear?""Perfectly.Spend the day with me."Did the man ever stop being patient? She couldn't abide patient men. "For God's sake, Alan!""We'll call it an experimental outing," he suggested in the same even tone. "Not a date.""No!" she said, barely choking back a laugh. Couldn't abide it, she tried to remember.She preferred the flashy, the freewheeling. "No,no,no!""Not bureaucratic enough." His voice was so calm,so...so senatorial, she decided, she wanted to scream. But the scream bubbled perilously close to another laugh. "All right, let me think-a standard daytime expedition for furthering amiable relations between opposing clans.""You're trying to be charming again," Shelby muttered."Am I succeeding?”

“It's a very odd feeling for a daughter to see her mother blush over a man.""You wouldn't?" Alan skimmed a thumb over her cheekbone. Shelby forgot her mother altogether."Wouldn't what?""Blush," he said softly, tracing her jawline. "Over a man.""Once-I was twelve and he was thirty-two." She had to talk-just keep talking to remember who she was. "He,uh, came to fix the water heater.""How'd he make you blush?""He grinned at me.He had a chipped tooth I thought was really sexy."On a quick ripple of laughter, Alan kissed her just as Myra opened the door."Well,well." She didn't bother to disguise a self-satisfied smile. "Good evening.I see you two have met.""What makes you think that?" Shelby countered breezily as she stepped inside.Myra glanced from one to the other. "Do I smell strawberries?" she asked sweetly."Your lamp." Shelby gave her a bland look and indicated the box Alan carried. "Where would you like it?”

“Lazily...possessively he ran a hand down her back."Mmm, again," Shelby murmured.With a quiet laugh, Alan stroked up and down until she was ready to purr. "Shelby..." She gave another sigh as an answer and snuggled closer. "Shelby,there's something warm and fluffy under my feet.""Mmm-hmm.""If it's your cat, he's not breathing.""MacGregor."He kissed the top of her head. "What?"She gave a muffled laugh against his shoulder. "MacGregor," she repeated. "My pig."There was silence for a moment while he tried to digest this. "I beg your pardon?"The dry serious tone had more laughter bubbling up. Would she ever be able to face a day without hearing it? "Oh, say that again.I love it." Because she had to see his face, Shelby found the energy to lean across him and grope for the matches on the nightstand. Skin rubbed distractedly against skin while she struck one and lit a candle. "MacGregor," she said, giving Alan a quick kiss before she gestured to the foot of the bed.Alan studied the smiling porcine face. "You named a stuffed purple pig after me?""Alan, is that any way to talk about our child?" His eyes shifted to hers in an expression so masculine and ironic, she collapsed on his chest in a fit of giggles. "I put him there because he was supposed to be the only MacGregor who charmed his way into my bed.""Really." Alan tugged on her hair until she lifted her face, full of amusement and fun,to his. "Is that what I dd?""You knew damn well I wouldn't be able to resist balloons and rainbows foever.”

“Gennie,you should have told me you hadn't been with a man before." And how was it possible, he wondered, that she'd let no man touch her before? That he was the first...the only."Why?" she said flatly,wishing he would go, wishing she had the strength to leave. "It was my business."Swearing,he shifted,leaning over her. His eyes were dark and angry, but when she tried to pull away,he pinned her. "I don't have much gentleness," he told her, and the words were unsteady with feeling. "But I would have used all I had,I would have tried to find more,for you." When she only stared at him, Grant lowered his forehead to hers. "Gennie..."Her doubts,her fears,melted at that one softly murmured word. "I wasn't looking for gentleness then," she whispered. Framing his face with her hands, she lifted it. "But now..." She smiled, and watched the frown fade from his eyes.He dropped a kiss on her lips, soft, more like whisper,then rising, lifted her into his arms. Gennie laughed at the feeling of weightlessness and ease. "What're you doing now?""Taking you inside so you can warm up, dry off and make love with me again-maybe not in that order."Gennie curled her arms around his neck. "I'm beginning to like your ideas. What about our clothes?""We can salvage what's left of them later." He pushed open the door of the lighthouse. "We won't be needing them for quite a while.""Definitely like your ideas." She pressed her mouth against his throat.”

“You're trying to be charming again," Shelby muttered."Am I succeeding?"Some questions were best ignored. "I really don't know how to be more succinct, Alan."Was that part of the appeal? he wondered. The fact that the free-spirited Gypsy could turn into the regal duchess in the blink of an eye. He doubted she had any notion she was as much one as the other. "You have a wonderful speaking voice.What time will you be ready?"Shelby huffed and frowned and considered. "If I agree to spend some time with you today, will you stop sending me things?"Alan was silent for a long moment. "Are you going to take a politician's word?"Now she had to laugh. "All right, you've boxed me in on that one.""It's a beautiful day, Shelby.I haven't had a free Saturday in over a month. Come out with me."She twined the phone cord around her finger. A refusal seemed so petty, so bad-natured.He was really asking her for very little, and-dammit-she wanted to see him. "All right, Alan, every rule needs to be bent a bit now and again to prove it's really a rule after all.""If you say so.Where would you like to go? There's an exhibition of Flemish art at the National Gallery."Shelby's lips curved. "The zoo," she said and waited for his reaction."Fine," Alan agreed without missing a beat. "I'll be there in ten minutes."With a sigh,Shelby decided he just wasn't an easy man to shake. "Alan, I'm not dressed.""I'll be there in five."On a burst of laughter, she slammed down the phone.”