“Luc scored forty and slapped the darts in her palm. “The light sucks in here.”“No.” She smiles and took great pleasure in announcing, “You suck.”His gaze narrowed.Weeks of anger and hurt poured out of her and she said, louder than she’d intended, “And worse – you’re a whiner.”A collective intake of breath caught their attention and she and Luc turned and looked at the guys watching a few feet away.“Lucky’s gonna kill Sharky,” Sutter predicted from the sidelines.By taut agreement they both went to their respective corners. Jane shot and scored sixty-five. Luc scored thirty-four.“Now remind me. Why do they call you Lucky?” she asked as she reached for the darts.He pulled them back out of her reach as a slow, purely licentious smile curved his mouth. A smile that told her he was remembering her on her knees kissing his tattoo. “I’m sure if you think long and hard, you’ll remember the answer to that.”“No.” She shook her head. “Some things just aren’t that memorable.”

“He gave her a lazy predatory smile as he moved his torso over heres. "You're not afraid of me at all anymore, are you?"She sobered. Call her crazy, but she thought he would rather cut off his hands than hurt her. "So what if I'm not?" she muttered.His beautiful, cruel mouth pulled into a smile. "I think if your're not crazy, it's a very good thing," he said. He moved, and before she realized what he intended, he had her hands pinned over her head. "It gives me all kinds of license to do bad things to you. With you. On you. In you.”

“He looked her over, making her every nerve ending tingle with awareness, though his gaze was more inquisitive than sexual, as if making sure she was okay, though she had no idea why she wouldn't be.Then he smiled, and oh, how her misbehaving nipples loved that predatory smile. If his intense, concerned once-over had done things to her, his smile just about undid her from the inside out.-Amy”

“He leaned closer and she swallowed the rest of her words as he pressed a kiss to her lips. He lifted his head slightly and looked into her eyes. She stared back at him, stunned, her heart thudding against her breastbone. He palmed the nape of her neck, and then he was kissing her again, his tongue sweeping into her mouth this time, turning her legs to jelly.She pressed her body against his, her skin on fire, desire beating a tattoo through her veins. His tongue stroked hers gently, provocatively, and she reached out and gripped his shoulders with both hands.After a long, long moment he drew back. “Come home with me?” he asked very quietly, his voice a low husk.Dear God, I thought you’d never ask.”

“You are burnt beyond recognition," he added, looking at his wife as one looks at a valuable piece of personal property which has suffered some damage. She held up her hands, strong, shapely hands, and surveyed them critically, drawing up her fawn sleeves above the wrists. Looking at them reminded her of her rings, which she had given to her husband before leaving for the beach. She silently reached out to him, and he, understanding, took the rings from his vest pocket and dropped them into her open palm. She slipped them upon her fingers; then clasping her knees, she looked across at Robert and began to laugh. The rings sparkled upon her fingers. He sent back an answering smile.”

“Cash, you can’t have me, I’m not yours to have,” she told him, her voice now sounding a wee bit desperate. His mouth came back to hers and she felt that he was still smiling. “Oh yes, darling, you are,” he said there and he kissed her.”