“She was tough in the best sense of the word. She'd taken blows, the disappointments, and had worked her way through them. Some people, he knew, would have buckled under, found a clutch, or given up. But she had carved a place for herself and made it work.”

“She'd already accepted that she loved him, hadn't she? And it had been easy, a simple process of steps and study. Her mind was amde up, her goals set. Damn it, she'd been pleased by the whole business.So what was this shaky, dizzy, painful sensation, this clutch of panic that made her want to turn her mount sharply around and ride as far away as possible?She'd been wrong, Keeyley realized as she pressed an unsteady hand to her jumpy heart.She'd only been falling in love up to now.How foolish of her to be lulled by the smooth slide of it.This was the moment, she understood that now. This was the moment the bottom dropped away and sent her crashing.Now the wind was knocked out of her, that same shock of sensation that came from losing your seat over a jump and findng yourself flipping through space until the ground reached up and smacked into you. Jolting bones and head and heart.Love was an outrageous shock to the system, she thought. It was a wonder anyone survived it.She was a Grant, Keeley reminded herself and straightened in the saddle. She knew how to take a tumble, jsut as she knew how to pick herself back up and focus mind and energy on the goal. She wouldn't just survive this knock to the heart.She'd thrive on it.And when she was done with Brian Donnelly, he wouldn't know what had hit him.”

“It was amazing,really,how two people could live and work in basically the same place,and one could completely avoid the other.It just took setting your mind to it.Brian set his mind to it for several days.There was plenty of work to keep him occupied and more than enough reason for him to spend time away from the farm and on the tracks.But he found avoidance scared his pride. It was too close a kin to cowardice.Added to that,he'd told Keeley he wanted to help her at the school and had done nothing abuot it.He asn't a man to break his word, no matter what it cost him.And, he reminded himself as he walked to Keeley's stables, he was also a man of some self-control. He had no intention of seducing or taking the advantage of innocence.He'd made up his mind on it.Then he stepped into the stables and saw her.He wouldn't have said his mouth watered, but it was a very close thing.She was wearing one of those fancy rigs again-jodhpurs the color of dark chocolate and a cream sort of blouse that looked somehow fluid.her hair was down, all tumbled and wild as if she'd just pulled the pins from it. And indeed,as he watched she flipped it back and looped it through a wide elastic band.He decided the best place in the universe for his hands to be were in his pockets."Lessons over?"She glanced back, her hands still up in her hair.Ah,she thought.She'd wondered how long it would take him to wander her way again. "Why? Did you want one?”

“She took his hand, fumbled with the door herself. Breathless, she would have stumbled if he hadn't caught her. "Teach me to wear heels in the damn stable," she muttered. "My legs are shaking."With a nervous laugh she turned back to him. Her legs stopped trembling. At least she couldn't feel them. All she could feel now was the unsteady skipping of her heart.He was staring at her, his eyes intense. When she'd turned his hands had reached up to frame her face. "You're so beautiful."She'd never believed words like that mattered. They were so easily, and so often carelessly, said. But they didn't seem easy from him.And there was nothing careless about the tone of his voice.”

“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.”

“There was nothing wrong with being able to handle things herself. Nothing wrong with wanting to.And she did appreciate Brian's help.And she didn't need caffeine."I like caffeine," she grumbled. "I enjoy it, and that's entirely different from needing it.Entirely.I could give it up anytime I wanted, and I'd barely miss it."Annoyed,she snagged the soft drink she'd left on a shelf and guzzled. All right,so maybe she would miss it. But only beause she liked the taste. It wasn't like a craving or an addiction or...She couldn't say why Brian popped into her head just then.She was certain if he'd seen her staring in a kind of horror at a soft drink bottle, he'd have been amused.It was debatable what his reaction would be if he'd realized she wasn't actually seeing the bottle, but his face.No,that wasn't a need, either, she thought quickly. She did not need Brian Donnelly. It was attraction.Affection-a cautious kind of affection.He was a man who interested her, and whom she admired in many ways. But it wasn't as if she needed..."Oh God."It had to be overreaction, she decided, and set the bottle aside as carefully as she would have a container of nitro. What she was going through was something as simple as overromanticizing an affair. That would be natural enough, she told herself, particularly sice this was her first.She didn't want to be in love with him. She began wielding the pitchfork vigorously now, as if to sweat out a fever.She didn't choose to be in love with him. That was even more important.When her hands trembled she ignored them and worked harder still.By the time her mother joined her, Keeley had herself under control enough to casually ask Adelia to work in the office while she exervised Sam.Keeley Grant had never run from a problem in her life,and she wasn't about to start now.She saddled her mount,then rode off to clear her head before she dealt with the problem at hand.”

“It was foolish to feel like a girl getting ready for a date. Gennie told herself that as she unlocked the door to the cottage.She'd told herself the same thing as she'd driven away from town...as she'd turned down the quiet lane.It was a spur of the moment cookout-two adults,a steak,and a bottle of burgundy that may or may not have been worth the price. A person would have to look hard to find any romance in charcoal, lighter fluid and some freshly picked greens from a patch in the backyard. Not for the first time, Gennie thought it a pity her imagination was so expansive.It had undoubtedly been imagination that had brought on that rush of feeling in the churhcyard. A little unexpected tenderness, a soft breeze and she heard bells. Silly. Gennie set the bags on the kitchen counter and wished she'd bought candles. Candlelight would make even that tidy,practical little kitchen seem romantic.And if she had a radio, there could be music...”