“I thought we could start at the beginning. Get to know each other again. We’d go real slow, have a good time. Enjoy ourselves.”“How?” she asked suspiciously.He laughed. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how to have fun. Never mind, I’ll have to show you.”She was intrigued, then nervous. “About what you said to me. You know. How you . . .”“You mean how much I love you?”She nodded, swallowing. “You’ll be wanting me to return that sentiment.”“Love is a gift, Jussie,” he said with such dignity, she felt like a monster. As if incredibly weary, he turned away, leaned over her desk, and dropped his head between his shoulders.She swallowed again, because her mouth had suddenly gone dry as cotton. She watched him stretch his shoulders as if they were kinked. “I know it’s a gift.”“Do you?” he wondered. “Because you make it sound like an obligation.”“Well, maybe I don’t feel obligated,” she whispered, butterflies attacking her stomach with what she did feel. “Maybe I feel it back. A litt

“Late’s okay,” she murmured, reaching for him, but he just laughed and held her off.“No, sweetheart. I meant, if we don’t go now, I’m likely to mess up that drop-dead-gorgeous dress.”“I don’t care if you do,” she assured him, trying to press up against his body. She wanted more, now.“I care.” He groaned when her breasts brushed against his chest. “I want you so badly, I’m shaking with it, but I don’t want to be worried about your pretty hair or smearing your makeup.” He lowered his voice, skimming his fingers over her neck, lower.“Just a kiss, then,” Justine begged.“One won’t be enough. And when I take that dress off you tonight—which I’m going to—it’s not going back on.Heat flooded her face, her mouth dropped open. Her eyes were wide, wild, and . . . expectant. “Oh.”Quite satisfied with his world, Mitch leaned forward, whispering in her ear exactly what he planned to do to her once he got the black velvet off.Her eyes glazed over, her fingers dug into his shoulders. “Tell me

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said to Mitch. “You took longer than I thought.”“Hopkins?” Mitch lowered his gun as Devlin moved aside with Mitzy. Relief filled him when he realized it had been Hopkins in the other car. “You came? Why?”Hopkins didn’t look at Mitch. Without so much as blinking, he lifted what he had in his hands—a gun—and aimed it at Mitzy.She screamed. Behind Mitch, Justine gasped.And for the first time in his life Mitch went blank. Absolutely, mind-numbingly blank. The gun slackened in his own hands. Mitzy, while a definite pain in the ass, hadn’t lifted a finger to Hopkins in threat, so he didn’t understand why the man he’d trusted so completely was pointing a gun at her. “What the hell—”Hopkins fired. Devlin bellowed and caught Mitzy as she slumped against him.“That’s for screwing me over,” Hopkins said quite calmly as he looked down at Mitzy in disgust. “For sneaking around behind your father’s back and dipping your nose in where you had no business being. A

PROLOGUENo. Oh, no. No/ Brand slammed his fist into the pillow. It wasn't possible. He swore, silently and with passion. He couldn't have, wouldn't have . . .The woman who lay beside him in the bed wrinkled her nose in her sleep. Brand inhaled a long draught of air. He had to stay in control. This square attic room with its sweating walls must stay in focus. He couldn't allow it to turn upside-down.Slowly the room—or was it his head?—came to rest the way it was meant to be. He forced himself to keep calm as he lay on his side and gazed at his companion of the night. If that was what she was. He supposed she must be. Her long, dark hair was spread out on his pillow and her chest rose and fell steadily, as if she had been asleep for some hours.Brand dashed a hand across his eyes. Surely to heaven he must be dreaming. Just as he had been dreaming last night that his Mary was once again beside him. Although Mary had been merely pretty, and this woman with the heart-shaped face, impossi

She waved her chopstick at the pyjama-clad fence posts. 'I'm trying to explain to these men that we don't need any new beds.''Then you're explaining wrong. I told you I was having the double taken out.''Yes, but I didn't think . . . Brand, we are married. This is ridiculous.''No,' said Brand. 'It's sheer self-preservation. And a damn sight more comfortable than the floor.''But—''This isn't open to debate, Isabella. Now, get out of the way and let the men do their job.'The two delivery men exchanged smirks. She felt her cheeks turning pink.'Brand, please . . .' She searched his face for some sign of softening, and didn't find it. He was standing with his legs apart and both hands on his hips, looking like the Rock of Gibraltar on a power trip. This was one battle she wasn't going to win.The delivery men's smirks grew broader. Her face grew pinker. Biting her lip, Isabella turned her back on Brand and his accomplices and stalked back into the bathroom.'Damn,' she muttered, stabb