“Rude or not, she'd accept his offer of help.Then as far as she was concerned, Grant Campbell could go to the devil.”

“With the organization and brevity of a drill sergeant, she began arranging them to her liking."Alan here..." She took him by the arm and stood him between his parents' chairs. "And Shelby." She nudged Shelby beside him. "Caine,you sit in the foor." She tugged on his hand, until grinning, he obliged her. "And Diana-" Caine pulled his wife down on his lap before Gennie could finish. "Yes, that'll do. Justin over here with Rena.And Grant-""I'm not-" he began."Do as you're told,boy," Daniel bellowed at him,then spoke directly to his grandson. "Leave it to a Campbell to make trouble."Grumbling,Grant strolled over behind Daniel's chair and scowled down at him. "A fine thing when a Campbell's in a MacGregor family portrait.""Two Campbells," Shelby reminded her brother with alacrity.”

“What the hell are you doing here?""A typical Grant Campbell welcome.”

“And Grant Campbell was about to take a short walk off a high cliff.”

“You can laugh," he said. "Dad's been ranting and muttering for an hour. Something about-" his gaze shifted and lingered on Shelby "-traitors and infidels.Hello,you must be the infidel."The friendly irony in his voice had Shelby's lips curving. "I must be.""Shelby Campbell,my brother, Caine.""The first Campbell ever to step into the MacGregor keep.Enter at your own risk." Caine offered his hand as Shelby crossed the threshold. His first thought was that she had the face of a mermaid-not quite beautiful, but alluring and not easily forgotten.Shelby glanced around the wide hall, approving the faded tapestries and heavy old furniture.She caught the scent of spring flowers, a wisp of dust and old polish. No,she couldn't have done it better herself. "Well, the roof didn't cave in," she commented as she studied a crested shield on the wall. "So far so good.”

“Where the hell was she? Grant knew he'd go mad if he asked himself the question one more time.Where the hell was she?From the lookout deck of his lighthouse he could see for miles. But he couldn't see Gennie.The wind slapped at his face as he stared out to sea and wondered what in God's name he was going to do.Forget her? He might occasionally forget to eat or to sleep,but he couldn't forget Gennie. Unfortunately, his memory was just as clear on the last ten minutes they had been together. How could he have been such a fool! Oh,it was easy,Grant thought in disgust.He'd had lots of practice.”

“Walking home's going to be...interesting half dressed." Alan mused as he dropped the shirt over the lip of the sink.Shelby shot a look over her shoulder, but the retort she had in mind slipped away from her.He was lean enough so she could have counted his ribs, but there was a sense of power and endurance in the breadth of his chest and shoulders, the streamlined waist. His body made her forget any other man she'd ever seen.It had been he,she realized all at once, whom she'd been thinking of when she'd thrown the clay into that clean-lined bowl.Shelby let the first flow of arousal rush through her because it was as sweet as it was sharp. Then she tensed against it, rendering it a distant throb she could control."You're in excellent shape," she commented lightly. "You should be able to make it to P street in under three minutes at a steady jog.""Shelby, that's downright unfriendly.""I thought it was more rude," she corrected as she struggled against a grin. "I suppose I could be a nice guy and throw it in the dryer for you.""It was your clay.""It was your move," she reminded him, but snatched up the damp shirt. "Okay, come on upstairs." With one hand, she tugged off her work apron, tossing it aside as she breezed through the doorway. "I suppose you're entitled to one drink on the house.""You're all heart," Alan murmured as he followed her up the stairs."My reputation for generosity precedes me.”