“Playing with your mind, that’s what she’s about.” Carrick waved a hand, then tossed the little star that clung to his fingertips out over the water, where it trailed silver light. “Cooking you a meal, making everything, herself included, pretty for you. A more devious female I’ve never known. You’re well shed of her.”

“Are you always so forthright over coffee dates?” “I don’t know. You’re the only one I ever had a crush on.” Oh, boy. “And that was stupid.” Flustered again, he raked his fingers through his hair. “Now I’ve scared you. That sounds scary and obsessive. Like I have an alter somewhere with your pictures over it, where I light candles and chant your name. Jesus! That’s even scarier. Run now. I won’t hold it against you.” She burst out laughing. Had to set her coffee back down before she slouched it over the rim. “I’ll stay if you swear you don’t have the alter.” “I don’t.” He swiped his finger in an X over his heart.”

“He got out a tube and since she’d yet to put the sweater on, squeezed ointment onto his fingers and began to gently rub it on her abraded skin. She recognized the scent. “That’s for horses.”“So?”She laughed and let him fuss. “Does this make me your mare now?”“No, you’re too young and delicate of bone for that. You’re still a filly.”“Are you going to train me, Donnelly?”“Oh, you’re out of my league, Miss Grant.” He glanced up, cocked a brow when he saw her grinning at him. “And what amuses you?”“You can’t help it can you? You have to tend.”“I put the marks on you,” he muttered as he smoothed on the ointment. “It follows I should see to them.”She lifted a hand to toy with the ends of his damp, gold-tipped hair. “I like being seen to by a man with a tough mind and a soft heart.”That soft heart sighed a little, ached a little. But he spoke lightly. “It’s no hardship running my fingers over skin like yours.” With his eyes on hers, he used the pad of his thumb to spread ointment over the gentle swell of her breast. “Particularly since you don’t seem to have a qualm about standing here half naked and letting me.”“Should I blush and flutter?”“You’re not the fluttering sort. I like that about you.” Satisified, he capped the tube, then tugged the sweater over her head himself. “But I can’t have such a fine piece of God’s work catching a chill. There you are.” He lifted her hair out of the neck.“You don’t have a hair dryer.”“There’s air everywhere in here.”She laughed and dragged her fingers through her damp curls. “It’ll have to do.”

“Because you’re the one. Because I’ve never felt for anyone what I feel for you. I want a lifetime with you, Abigail. I want a home with you, family with you. I want to make children with you, raise them with you. If you truly don’t want any of that with me, I’ll give you the best I’ve got, and hope you change your mind. I just need you to tell me you don’t want it.”

“Once I've made up my mind, I'm rock hard.""We've more than ancestry in common." He watched the sunlight add more heat to the flames of her hair. Touching it, lightly, fingertips only, Alan wondered how it would look after they'd made love. Wild strands of fire. "I wanted you from the minute I saw you, Shelby. I want you more with every minute that passes."She turned her head at that, surprised and unwillingly excited.It hadn't been an empty phrase or cliche.Alan MacGregor said precisely what he meant."And when I want something that immediately and that badly," he murmured while his fingertips strayed to her jawline, "I don't walk away from it."Her lips parted as his thumb brushed over them.She couldn't prevent it, or the lightning-flash thrill of desire. "So-" Striving to be casual, Shelby dug out some more popcorn before she set the bucket on a bench. "You put your engergies into convincing me that I want you."He smiled.Slowly, irresistibly, he circled her neck with his fingers. "I don't have to convince you of that. What I have to convince you of," he began as he drew her closer, "is that the stand you're taking is unproductive, self-defeating, and hopeless.”

“You’re as pretty as she is.”“Don’t be saying such things loud enough for herself to hear you, or she’ll skin us both.”Touched and amused, she kissed his cheek. And Shawn came through the door.It would have been comical, she decided, and was a pity that no one noticed but herself noticed the way he stopped dead in his tracks, stared, then jolted when the door swung back and slapped him in the ass.I liked how she was trying to make him jealous with Jack.Jack sighed into his beer when Brenna strode out. “She smells like sawdust,” he said more to himself than otherwise. “It’s very pleasant.”“What are you doing sniffing at her?” Shawn demanded.Jack just blinked at him. “What?”“I’ll be back in a minute.” He shoved up the pass-through on the bar, let it fall with a bang that had Aidan cursing him, then rushed through the door after Brenna.“Wait a minute. Mary Brennan? Just a damn minute.”She paused by the door of her truck, and for one of the first times in her life felt the warm glow of pure female satisfaction stream through her. A fine feeling, she decided. A fine feeling altogether.Schooling her face to show mild interest, she turned. “Is there a problem, then?”“Yes, there’s a problem. What are you doing flirting with Jack Brennan that way?”She let her eyebrows rise up under the bill of her cap. “And what business might that be of yours, I’d like to know?”“A matter of days ago you’re asking me to make love with you, and I turn around and you’re cozying up to Jack and making plans to have dinner with some Dubliner.”She waited one beat, then two. “And?”“And?” Flustered and furious, he glared at her. “And it’s not right.”She only lifted a shoulder in dismissal, then turned to open the truck door.“It’s not right,” he repeated, grabbing her again and turning her to face him. “I’m not having it.”“So you said, in clear terms.”“I don’t mean that.”“Oh, well, if you’ve decided you’d like to have sex with me after all, I’ve changed my mind.”“I haven’t decided—” He broke off, staggered. “Changed your mind?”

“Her hand shot out, gripped his arm. "M.J. and Bailey?""Your friends are fine." He felt her grip go limp. "They've had an eventful holiday weekend, all of which could have been avoided if they'd contacted and cooperated with the police. And it's cooperation I'll have from you now, one way or the other."She tossed her hair back. "Where are they? What did you do,toss them in a cell? My lawyer will have them out and your butt in a sling before you can finish reciting the Miranda." She started toward the phone, saw it wasn't on the Queen Anne table."No,they're not in a cell." It goaded him, the way she snapped into gear, ready to buck the rules. "I imagine they're planning your funeral right about now.”