“Do you really think that I don’t have anything better to do than to spend my time thinking about you? Digging up a little of the goods on Luc Martineau?”Fine lines appeared at the corners of his eyes and he laughed. “Sweetheart, there is nothing little about Luc’s goods.”

“The other night when I walked by and saw you in the media lounge, I fantasized about throwing you up on the table and doing you right there on top of the dessert trays.”“Sounds ... messy.”“And fun. I thought about all the interesting places I’d get to lick you clean.”She sounded as if she were holding her breath when she said, “I thought you don’t eat sugar.”He laughed. “I want to eat yours,” he said as he kissed the crook of her neck. “Does that shock you, little Jane?”

“Are you trying to tell me—in your own typically macho way—that you want to make love again?” He glanced at her. “I’m not trying to tell you anything. I want you. You want me. Someone is going to end up wearing nothing but a satisfied smile on her lips.” “I don’t know, Nick, I might talk afterward. Do you think you can handle it?” “I can handle anything you can think up, and a few things you’ve probably never even thought of.” “Do I have a choice?” “Sure, wild thing. I have four bedrooms. You can choose which one we use first.”

“I don’t think you know what you want.”“Yes. I do. I want you, and being with you feels a hell of a lot better than being without you. I’m not going to fight it anymore.”

“I know. I know I’ve been a jerk, and I don’t have a good excuse. But touching you and loving you, and knowing you were planning to leave me, made me crazy. After we made love the second time, I began to think maybe you’d decide to stay with me. I started to think about you and me waking up every day together for the rest of our lives. I even thought about kids and taking some of those breathing classes when you got pregnant. Maybe buying one of those mini-vans.”

“Have you ever been married?""Nope. I was close once.""You were engaged?""No, but I came close to thinking about it."She didn't believe close to thinking about it counted. "What happened?""I got a good look at her mother and ran like hell.”

“Exactly what am I supposed to care about? That we were just getting to the fun stuff? That my hand was on your breasts, and your hands were all over my chest, and both of us were having a good time? Damn right I care about that. I wasn’t finished. But don’t expect me to care that a little old lady looked in the window and watched. Why should I care what people are going to say about that? People have talked about me since the day I was born. I stopped caring a long time ago.”