“She glanced down to where Seth's fingers were still curled around her arm. "Are you testing my biceps, Lieutenant? I do like to think they're firm.""Your muscle tone's fine." From what he could see of her in the filmy ivory slacks, it appeared more than fine.”

“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.”

“Brian spared her a glance. "I'm just angry altogether.""Oh,that's right." Since violence seemed to be the mood of the day, she gave in to it and stabbed a finger into his shoulder. "You're just angry period. He's got some twisted idea that I don't think he's good enough to defend me against a drunk bully. Well, I have news for you,you hardheaded Irish horse's ass."Now that her own temper was fired, she curled her hand into a fist and used it to thump his chest. "I was defending myself just fine.""You half Irish, stiff-necked birdbrain, he's twice your size and then some.""I was handling it, but I appreciate your help.""The hell you do.It's just like with everything else.You've got to do it all yourself.No one's as smart as you, or as clever, or as capable.Oh it's fine to give me a whistle if you need a diversion.""Is that what you think?" She was so livid her voice was barely a croak. "That I make love with you for a diversion? You vile, insulting, disgusting son of a bitch."She raised her own fists, and might have used them, but Travis stepped in and gripped Brian by the shirt.His voice was quiet, almost matter-of-fact. "I ought to take you apart.""Oh,Travis." Adelia merely pressed her fingers to her eyes."Dad,don't you dare." At wit's end, Keeley threw up her hands. "I've got an idea.Why don't we all just beat each other senseless today and be done with it?”

“It means what it says," he managed, staring at her again. "There's not a lot of subtlety in this particular strip."She took the paper back from him and stuck it in her pocket. It was something she intended to keep forever. "You've used me rather lavishly in your work recently." She had to tilt back her head in order to keep her eyes level with his. Grant thought she looked more regal than ever. If she turned her thumb down, she could throw him to the lions. "Didn't it occur to you to ask permission first?""Artist's privilage." He felt the light spray hit his back, saw it dampen her hair. "Where the hell did you go?" he heard himself demand. "Where the hell have you been?"Her eyes narrowed. "That's my business, isn't it?""Oh,no." He grabbed her arms and shook. "Oh,no,it's not.You're not going to walk out on me."Gennie set her teeth and waited until he'd stopped shaking her. "If memory serves,you did the walking figuratively before I did it literally.""All right! I acted like an idiot. You want an apology?" he shouted at her. "I'll give you any kind you want. I'll-" He broke off, his breath heaving. "Oh,God,first."And his mouth crushed down on hers, his fingers digging into her shoulders. The groan that was wrenched from him was only one more sign of a desperate need. She was here,she was his.He'd never let her go again.”

“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.”

“Your Olympic medal.I went looking for you in your office.""The medal lures parents who can afford the tuition.""It's something to be proud of.""I am proud of it." With her free hand she brushed her hair as the breeze teased it. Her fingertips skimmed over the soft petals of the flower. "But it doesn't define me.""Not like,what was it? A British tie?"The laugh got away from her, and eased the odd tension that had been building inside her. "Here's a surprise. With a great deal of time and some effort, I might begin to like you.""I've plenty of time." He released her hand to toy with the ends of her hair. She jerked back. "You're a skittish one," he murmured."No, not particularly." Usually, she thought. With most people."The thing is, I like to touch," he told her and deliberately skimmed his fingers over her hair again. "It's that...connection.You learn by touching.""I don't..." She trailed off when those fingers ran firmly down the back of her neck. "I've learned you carry your worries right there, right at the base there. More worries than show on your face. It's a staggering face you have, Keeley. Throws a man off.”

“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.”