MARROK WAS STANDING IN THE entrance of the cave when Devon came down the path.
"How are they doing?"
"I don't know. They're not in the cave."
She stiffened. "What?"
He held up his hand. "They're fine. Danner didn't come and scoop them up. They're just down on the plateau. They must have gotten bored in the cave." He pointed down the slope. "They're playing together."
Devon watched the two dogs chase, nip, leap, and chase again. "No permanent trauma then."
He chuckled as he whistled for the dogs. "Now you're the one who sounds like a dog psychiatrist. Very solemn."
She made a face. "Solemn goes with responsible. I told you I was a responsible person. I can't help it."
"At least one of us is responsible. I kind of like that in you. As long as it doesn't keep you from making love to me." He added softly, "I'd have issues with that."
Making love. The phrase sent a thrill of uneasiness through her. It sounded too close to commitment, and she knew that wasn't in the cards. She shook her head. "I don't know why you make this big show of being irresponsible. You may have been that way in the past, but I don't believe anyone could be more responsible than you are now."
His brows lifted. "You're wrong, you know. I pick and choose my moments."
"I don't think so." She looked away from him. "You were very… disturbed earlier before you dragged me up that path today."
"Disturbed? I was hot as hell. I was going crazy."
"But you still had to go into the cave and check on Ned. I may be responsible, but I didn't even remember the dogs existed at that moment. You remembered, Marrok."
He frowned. "It was my job." He grimaced. "And I didn't want to have to worry about them. It would have gotten in the way."
"Then perhaps you're not as self-indulgent as you think you are." She stepped forward as Ned came tearing up the slope. "Hello, boy. You seem happy enough." She stroked his black silky head. "Bright eyes…"
Wiley was right behind him but keeping his distance. He sat down and stared warily at her. A few minutes later he got up, looked at Ned, and went into the cave.
"What next?" Devon asked.
Ned answered her. He hesitated, then followed Wiley into the cave.
"Do we go in?" Devon asked.
"No, we wait," Marrok said. "I think it's good-bye. If they don't come out in a few minutes, we go in and get them."
In less than two minutes Ned and Wiley came out of the cave. Ned was subdued as he moved to Marrok and rubbed against his legs. "It's okay, buddy," Marrok said quietly. "It will be better next time. Maybe you'll be able to go in alone." He reached down and patted Wiley's head. "Good job. What do you say we get to the ranch and see your friend, Sid?"
Wiley tilted his head and gazed up at him. Grave, knowing, patient.
"I believe he's missing you," Marrok said. "But you're going to have to show him how to adjust just as you did Ned. He may be a little more difficult." Marrok turned to Devon. "I think I hear the helicopter. We'd better get down to the plateau."
Devon listened. "I don't hear it."
"It's coming." He gestured to the dogs. "They hear it, too."
Apparently he was right, Devon realized, as the dogs ears pricked up, and they turned and began to run down the slope. "I'm beginning to feel a little handicapped. Dogs have excellent hearing, but why would you-" She finally heard the rotors in the distance. "SEAL training?"
"No, Paco training. He taught me to block out everything but what I wanted to hear." He held out his hand to help her down the slope. "And you're not handicapped. You see a hell of a lot more than most people."
She took his hand. Her gaze flew to his face as she felt a sensual tingle that she hadn't expected.
"It's not going to go away," he said softly. "It wasn't enough. You know it as well as I do. Any touch, any word. I wanted you again even when I was walking away from you. Want to do it on a real bed as soon as we get back to the ranch?"
Yes, she did. She was starting to shake at the thought. "I'll have to think about it. It's… upsetting." She moistened her lips. "You evidently don't believe in truth in advertising. You said it would be like coming home. No way. Unless home was in the center of a hurricane."
"Okay, I was reassuring you. I wanted it to be like that for you, but I lost control. Maybe we have a chance of that coming later." He frowned. "I'm not perfect."
No, he wasn't. But his faults were like the threads on a piece of granite that gave the stone interest and character. One could never be sure when one of those threads would give way and cause destruction and chaos. Why was she even expecting tameness from him when she had been just as primitive? She pulled her hand away. "You gave me what I wanted. Home is a concept that you'd find boring, and so would I. It's not what we want from each other." She started down the slope. "And I'm not perfect either, Marrok. Let's just work on enjoying the time we have together." She tried to smile. "Which according to Bridget may not be that long."
Marrok started to curse.
"I'm joking," she said.
"I'm not," he said tersely. "Nothing is going to happen to you."
"There's Walt." She began to hurry as the helicopter set down. "Right on time. Is he usually this prompt?"
"Yes. I mean it, Devon. Bridget is wrong. I'll keep you safe."
He was dead serious and not to be deterred. She tried anyway. "Hey, that's pretty sexist," she said lightly. "It's you Bridget is really worried about. Maybe I should promise to keep you safe." She could feel his gaze on her back as she ran toward the copter. "Come on, Ned, Wiley. Let's go."
BRIDGET WAS WALKING TOWARD THE house from the bunkhouse when the helicopter landed. She stood watching as the dogs jumped out and ran toward her. "So this is Wiley…" She didn't try to touch him. "Smart boy," she said, gazing into his eyes. "You don't need much help, but I'm here for you if you want me." She turned back to Marrok. "Sid just got here. He was worried about Wiley."
"We stopped at the cave. Ned needed to be there." Marrok helped Devon from the copter. "Any word from Sarah's place?"
She nodded. "There was someone scouting around today. Danner must have broken the code."
"Why didn't you call me?"
"It was obviously reconnaissance. I told them not to do anything in case we wanted to make a move of our own." She turned to Devon. "And we're having trouble with your Janet McDonald. She's decided that she's not needed at Sarah's and wants to come back here."
"She didn't give it long," Marrok said dryly.
"Sarah Logan runs a tight ship. I can see why a woman like Janet would feel useless." Bridget said to Devon, "Your call. But if you tell her to stay, I don't promise you won't have a mutiny on your hands."
"She's safer there."
"If you can keep her from flying the coop."
Devon said wearily, "Bring her back."
Bridget nodded. "Walt, be ready to leave in an hour, okay?" Her gaze shifted to Marrok. "They'll try to trace us. Do you want me to let them do it?"
Marrok thought about it. "Not yet. We have to bring Nika here first." He started toward the house. "I'll have her brought here tomorrow."
"Do you want me to go after her?" Bridget called after him.
"No, you have enough on your plate." Marrok disappeared into the house.
"And he doesn't trust me," Bridget murmured. She looked down at Wiley. "You know all about distrust, don't you? But I think you trust me. Come on, I'll take you down to the bunkhouse to Sid." She started across the stable yard. "Do you want to go with me to pick up your Janet, Devon? Maybe you can persuade her not to leave Sarah's."
"I doubt it." She hesitated. "Yes, I'll go."
"One hour. But if you tell Marrok you're going, he's going to raise hell. Danner knows about Sarah now. I don't care either way. Do what you like."
"I usually do."
Bridget gazed back at her. "That's not true. You have a keen sense of duty. But you did what you wanted this afternoon, didn't you?"
Devon could hear the heat sting her cheeks. It couldn't be clearer what Bridget meant. She refused to deny it. "Yes, I did. Not that it's any of your business, Bridget."
"It's my business. More than you could dream. You made a mistake. I could tell the minute I saw Marrok get off the helicopter. You're… joined. I could see it."
Devon shook her head. "We only had sex. That's crazy."
"You bet it is. You may have ruined everything." She added bitterly, "But I can't do anything about that now. It's too late. I'll just have to try to salvage what I can." Her pace quickened as she looked straight ahead. "Screw him all you please. It doesn't matter now. I'll meet you at the helicopter."
SARAH LOGAN WAS WAITING AT the helicopter pad with Janet McDonald beside her when they landed a few hours later.
"I'm sorry, Devon," Sarah said. "I tried to persuade her to stay."
"I'm not needed here," Janet said. "Nick can stay and watch over those dogs. I have to take care of you."
"Janet…" Devon gave up as she studied Janet's expression. "It's safer for you here. But come along if you have to do it."
"I have to do it," she said flatly as she looked at Bridget. "But I'm not sitting next to that viper. I'll sit in front."
"I'm flattered," Walt said. "I think."
"Thanks, Sarah," Devon said as she shut the door. "I'm sorry to bother you."
"I didn't bother her," Janet said as they lifted off. "I tried to help, but she's got so many people, they're stumbling over each other." She glowered at Bridget. "And I knew you didn't realize what a nasty piece of work this one is."
"I'm suspecting," Devon murmured. "But I can handle her."
Bridget snorted. "Not funny."
"I agree. And I wasn't amused at what you said back at the ranch."
"I was honest." She was silent a moment. "I want the best for you. If it doesn't hurt Marrok."
"For God's sake, look at me," she said in exasperation. "I'm a plain Jane. No femme fatale."
"What's this all about?" Janet asked suspiciously.
"Ignore them," Walt said. "It's tactful… and safer."
Bridget looked down at the ground below them. "Land at the Monterey airport. We'll change copters. Marrok doesn't want us to lead them back to the ranch."
"Yes, ma'am," Walt said. "Though we'll be lucky if they don't get a fix on that helicopter, too."
"Not in time," Bridget said. "It will be safe enough."
"She's probably lying," Janet said coldly.
Bridget turned to face her. "You're right to suspect me. That's the safest thing to do when you're trying to take care of someone. But you might remember we wouldn't even be in this predicament if you hadn't pulled a tantrum and threatened to bolt. Shut up unless you have something valuable to contribute."
Janet's face flushed with anger. She opened her lips to reply, then closed them again. A moment later she said, "I don't have tantrums."
"What do you call it?"
"Not a tantrum. I did what I thought I should do." She stared Bridget in the eye. "And you'll have to prove to me that you're not a liar."
"I don't have to prove anything," Bridget said. "You're the one who has to prove herself. You're pissed because I put you down. You don't like to lose. But I was only doing my job, and I've done everything I could to make you comfortable and safe. I'm done. Now you can contribute or sulk in the bunkhouse. But don't think I won't work your ass off if you decide to help."
Janet didn't answer for a moment. "I've never been afraid of work. If I decide I want to do it."
Devon stared at Janet in surprise. That was almost a concession on her part, and Janet didn't yield easily. And there was a grudging respect in Janet's voice. Would wonders never cease?
"What would I have to do?" Janet asked.
"Take care of Ned and Wiley. Keep an eye on Devon."
"I could do that," Janet said slowly. "Who's Wiley? Another dog?"
"Yes," Bridget said. "Wiley won't be much trouble. Sid Cadow takes care of him most of the time."
"If it's my job, then I'll be the one to take care of him," she said sourly.
"Talk to Sid," Bridget said. "Work it out between you."
"I don't have to talk to anyone. I do my job."
Good Lord, Devon thought, Bridget had created a monster situation. Janet and Sid were bound to butt heads if not actually come to blows. Was it a deliberate provocation? It was hard to tell. Bridget's face was completely without expression.
"There's the Monterey airport," Bridget said. "I'll call Marrok and tell him we'll be coming in on a different aircraft." She gave Janet a cool glance. "It's a lot of trouble."
"I'm worth it," Janet muttered. "You'll see."
"I hope that's true," Bridget said skeptically.
Janet muttered something beneath her breath that might have been a curse.
Bridget's gaze shifted to Devon as Janet turned away to look out the window.
There was challenge and cool confidence in her expression. Bridget knew exactly how she had manipulated Janet and was daring Devon to comment.
She was tempted to do it. She didn't like manipulation in any form. Yet Janet now had a goal and a purpose, and Devon couldn't quarrel with that.
Drop it. But keep in mind how easy that manipulation had been for Bridget.
CHAD LINCOLN WAS STANDING ON the porch, leaning against a post when they arrived back at the ranch at sunset.
"Well, well, the elusive Sherlock Holmes has returned," Bridget said. "He wasn't the one who I'd thought would be waiting for us. I wonder where Marrok is." She turned to Walt. "You did tell him that Devon was going with me, didn't you?"
"Sure." Walt turned off the engine. "He said that he couldn't expect to keep her from doing what she wanted to do every minute of the day. He told me he'd scalp me if I let anything happen to her. Since he has the historical background to make that happen, I decided I'd be very careful."
"I love the way everyone is deciding what I should and shouldn't be allowed to do." Devon jumped out of the helicopter. "Janet, I'll walk you down to the bunkhouse and introduce you to Wiley and Sid Cadow."
"I'll do it," Bridget said. "My job."
"No, it's my job," Janet said, as she started toward the bunkhouse. "And I don't need anyone to tell me how to do it."
Bridget glanced at Devon and shrugged before strolling after Janet.
Devon only hoped that Bridget would continue to handle Janet with the same deftness she had demonstrated on the helicopter. Which made Bridget a very clever woman. Clever and complicated, with the potential for being extremely dangerous.
"You only brought back your house keeper," Lincoln called. "I was sure you'd be bringing back one of the superdogs."
"They're not superdogs." Devon turned and walked toward the porch. "That makes them sound like they should be wearing capes and flying over rooftops. Comic book stuff."
"Oh, I agree there's nothing comic about them." He smiled. "But I have a little more experience with them than you do. Marrok and his superdog went on quite a few missions for me, and I'd venture to say the men Ned cured would call him a superdog if they knew he'd done the deed."
"Like that thieving robber chief in Ethiopia?"
His smile faded. "Marrok told you about him? It was a great embarrassment for me. That was the time when I realized on no account should Marrok be permitted to retain control of the dogs."
"I believe he knows how you feel. I'd bet he feels the same about you." She walked up the stairs. "Where is he?"
"He didn't confide in me. He drove out about two hours ago with his dog, Ned. Do you want a guess?"
"I can make my own guesses."
"I'll tell you anyway. I think he's gathering up his pack. The German shepherd, Wiley, is down at the bunkhouse. Now you just came from Sarah Logan's place, so it's not the golden retriever. I'd say he's gone for the mutt. What's her name… Nika, that's it."
"And why would he be doing that?" she asked without expression.
"Bait. Use all four dogs as a lure. He wants to rid himself of Danner. I'd have made the same move myself. Only I would have done it much sooner."
"Maybe he didn't want to risk the dogs."
"Or maybe he thought as long as he kept Danner as a threat, he wouldn't have to deal with us. He knows we wouldn't want Danner to get control. It's a standoff."
"Ridiculous."
"Is it? How can you be sure? Marrok is almost a stranger to you." He paused. "Though I'm sure he knows you very well in the biblical sense. It was pretty obvious where you were headed the other evening."
She felt a jarring distaste. "Back off, Lincoln."
"Just commenting. Marrok is a secretive bastard, and he's not above using you."
"You're pretty damn secretive yourself. I've hardly seen anything of you since the first night I got here. Where have you been?"
"I had some errands to run." He gazed out at the setting sun. "And if you ask Marrok, I'm certain he'll be able to fill you in exactly where I've been and what I was doing. I was followed from the minute I left the property. He has someone watching me now." He pointed to the barn. "Three men are there. There are at least a dozen in the bunkhouse. I don't know how many are in the stable. This cozy little ranch is an armed camp paid for by MI6. It's no wonder he wants to draw Danner here."
"And why did you think it necessary to find out how many men he had here? I find that a little… odd." She paused. "Perhaps you wanted to feel out the opposition in case you saw an opportunity to gather up the dogs yourself."
He chuckled. "Good thinking." His smile faded. "It's going to happen, Devon Brady. It may not be here and now, but Marrok is going down. If you help me, then I'll see that you don't go down with him. What do you care? He's a half-breed who'd as soon kill you as look at you."
"That's the kind of thing Danner would say about him. I thought you prided yourself on being civilized."
"I recognize the difference. Shall I tell you how many men he's killed?"
"No, I'm not interested. How many men have you killed, Lincoln?"
"There's a difference. I had a duty. He only became a SEAL so that he'd be able to kill without suffering the consequences."
"How do you know?"
"I know." He started down the steps. "I believe I'll go for an evening walk and see what other scum I can flush out of the woodwork. I meant what I said, Devon. You've got Marrok a little off-balance and that's unusual. I might be able to use you. It would be worth your while to consider the offer."
Devon watched him stroll away from her. He looked sleek, dapper, and perfectly groomed. "Snake," she muttered as she opened the screen door. For God's sake, Marrok appeared to be surrounded by people who wanted to take him down. Danner was hovering, Lincoln was waiting for his chance, and even Bridget Reardon was trying to manipulate him.
She glanced over her shoulder at the peaceful scene bathed in golden twilight. An armed camp, Lincoln had said. She could see no signs of it. But there had been two guards the first night Marrok had brought her here.
And Marrok would never have risked bringing the dogs here unless he could make sure they were safe.
But for how long would they remain safe? Danner didn't care if the dogs lived or died. He'd proved that on Santa Marina. Did they have the right to use the dogs as bait? And if she decided that Marrok was wrong, how would she stop him?
She would have to think about it.
MARROK ARRIVED BACK AT THE ranch two hours later. The dog that jumped out of the car with Ned was a gangly brown animal that had none of the Weimaraner's grace or a boxer's sturdy frame. He had enormous feet, gigantic ears, and startling blue eyes that Devon barely noticed before the dog was on her. His huge tongue licked her face ecstatically.
"Down, Nika." Marrok was pulling the dog down by the collar. "Sorry. We've never been able to teach Nika manners. She gets excited, and everything she learns goes out the window."
Nika's tail was thumping loudly on the wooden porch as she gazed up at Devon in adoration.
"She's wonderful. Is she always this affectionate?"
"Yes. Lousy guard dog. Wonderful friend and companion. She's the best at the hospital visits. But only when Rod can keep her from crawling into bed with the kids."
"Ugly mutt. Never learns." A burly, bald-headed man was getting out of the car. His face was almost unlined, and his powerful build, keen blue eyes, and springy gait belied the hint of age suggested by that bald head. "Come on, Nika. Leave the lady alone."
Nika ignored him as she rubbed her head against Devon's hand.
"She's not bothering me," Devon said. "And she's not ugly. She just has character."
"Rod Zedwick, Dr. Devon Brady," Marrok said. "And don't let Rod fool you. He's crazy about that 'ugly mutt.'"
"To my infinite regret. Otherwise, I'd go out and get a real job." Zedwick smiled. "Glad to meet you, Dr. Brady. Marrok tells me that you've gone through a lot for his dogs of summer. I hope it will be over soon." He looked at Marrok. "The bunkhouse?"
Marrok nodded. "That's where the other dogs are."
Rod sighed. "Nika will go crazy when she sees them. She's never gotten over being a puppy."
"Some dogs never do," Devon said.
He flinched. "Don't tell me that." He was beside Nika and put his hand on her head. She immediately looked up and began to lick his hand. "Stop that," he said gruffly. But his touch was gentle as he rubbed the dog's huge ears. "Let's go. We've got to get settled." He raised his hand, and said to Marrok, "See you."
Nika didn't move.
"Oh, for God's sake." Rod reached into his pocket. "It makes me look bad to have to bribe you." He fed her a treat and started down the steps. "No more until we get to the bunkhouse."
Nika ran after him, her big feet almost tripping her on the steps. She started racing in circles around him, then got bored and streaked down the path.
"A problem child," Devon said, amused. "And she has him wrapped around her paw. Where did you find him?"
"He was in the SEALs with me. He needed a job, and I needed a guardian for Nika. It worked out fine."
"I can see it did." The man's toughness was as clear as his affection for Nika. "You chose well. Perceptive choices." She shot him a glance. "Responsible choices."
"That word again. You're beginning to remind me of Paco." Marrok turned and held the screen door open for her. "Is your Janet adjusting?"
She nodded. "Once Bridget gave her the job of taking care of the dogs and me. I'm not sure how your other personnel are going to adjust to her."
"It's only short-term. She won't have time to make much trouble."
"Short-term?" She looked at him. "What do you mean?"
He ignored the question. "Is Lincoln still here?"
"Yes, he took a long walk, then came back about an hour ago." She paused. "He said that you had guards watching him all the time."
"I'd be stupid not to."
"He said you knew exactly what he was doing when he took his little trips. Do you?"
"Yes, not such little trips. Las Vegas isn't that close. He went shopping at a men's store there. He had a haircut and a manicure. He made three phone calls. I was able to trace two to London. The third number was routed through three other cell towers, and I'm still working on it."
"Good God, It sounds like you're running your own high-tech spy network."
He smiled. "You can buy most of that stuff off the Internet. But I do have an expert on staff. Larry Farland worked for the NSA for ten years. I thought I might possibly have need of someone with his background. He's pretty good, but he doesn't have satellite. That's a hindrance."
"Why don't you just send Lincoln packing?"
"I may need him. And I definitely need MI6's financial help. I'm safe from his machinations as long as I can keep tabs on him."
Devon wasn't so sure. "He knows why you're bringing the dogs here."
"Of course, he does," Marrok said. "And he's licking his lips, hoping that he can find a way to take them away from me. It suits him just fine."
Just as killing Marrok would suit Lincoln, Devon thought. She had not let herself think of Lincoln's words, but they were suddenly there, chilling her, twisting inside her.
"You're walking a fine line," Devon said. "It could all blow up in your face. Then what would happen to the dogs and the shi'i'go?" She moistened her lips. "What would happen to you?"
He chuckled. "I notice you mentioned the dogs first. You clearly have your priorities straight."
Because she hadn't been able to bear to think about anything happening to Marrok. "Why not?" She had to steady her voice. "That seems to be your top priority. Keep the dogs safe and get revenge for Paco. Isn't that the way it goes?"
"Yes, that's the way it goes." He was studying her. "You're upset."
"Dammit, why shouldn't I be upset? I'm not like you. I can't go on for years playing games, killing people, watching people I care about die. It's not-" She jerkily turned away. "Just forget it."
His hand was on her arm, turning her to face him. "I can't forget it," he said simply. "It hurts me."
It was hurting her, too. Too close. Dear God, she was getting too close to him. "Get over it." She tore away from him and almost ran toward her bedroom door. "Good night, Marrok."
"It's not going to get any better by hiding from it, Devon," he said quietly.
She didn't answer as she shut the door behind her. No, it wasn't any better. The panic was still rising within her. What could she do? Keep calm. This terror didn't have to indicate that she had any special feeling for Marrok. She was a compassionate person, and she would be fearful for the life of anyone she knew. Add to that the fact that she'd had possibly the premier sex experience of her life with him, and it was probably not unusual that she should-
Oh, screw it. Excuses. Hiding away mentally as well as physically just as Marrok had accused her. She'd always tried to be honest with herself as well as others, and she couldn't stop now.
Too close. How close was Marrok to her? Tear down all the lies and protective barriers she'd built and see what was left. She knew what would be left-fear. That terror was what had triggered this panic.
But what else?
She sank down in the easy chair beside the bed and stared into the darkness. Let it come. No more hiding.
What else?
MARROK'S door.
Devon drew a deep breath.
She hesitated, then opened the door.
The lamp by the bed was lit and Marrok was sitting up in bed, a sheet flung carelessly over his naked body. "I was going to give you another thirty minutes and come to you." His lips twisted. "Lincoln would be surprised at my control, don't you think? Not what you'd expect from a savage."
"I don't want to talk about Lincoln." Devon closed the door and moved toward the bed. Every time she thought about the danger Chad Lincoln represented, the panic came back. "And anyone who judges someone by race or creed shouldn't matter to you."
"He doesn't."
"The hell he doesn't. You still have a few hang-ups from your childhood that pop out now and then. That was part of what I was thinking about." She sat down on the bed. "But then so does everyone. Yours just manifest themselves a little more violently."
"That's true." He reached out to her. "Perhaps a good deal more-"
"Don't touch me."
His hand paused, then dropped to the sheet. "I don't like the way this is going."
"No, considering what a lusty bastard you are, I wouldn't think that you would."
He stiffened.
"Oh, I like it." She still wasn't looking at him. "Sexually you're a slam-bang wonder. I can't wait to do it again."
"The conversation is beginning to look more promising."
"But it's not fair to you or myself not to clear a few things up." She moistened her lips. "I feel… something for you, Marrok. There's… tenderness. I don't know how much, but it might be… a lot. And I respect you and admire all you've done and all you are. You're a better man than you think you are. And there's a feeling that might be… something else. It scares me."
"Are you done?" he asked hoarsely.
"No, I wanted you to know that none of this makes a difference. It doesn't have to affect you. I just can't pretend it's not here. I have to be honest."
"I've noticed that about you. May I touch you now?"
"Please." She put her head on his chest. "Turn out the light."
"Why? You've scarcely looked at me since you came into the room." But he turned out the light anyway. "I'm glad you didn't. I find I'm not as honest as you are. I have… to hide things." He drew her under the sheet. "Otherwise, I might break apart."
"Hush." She pulled her nightshirt over her head and tossed it aside. "You don't have to say anything. That's not why I came."
"Because I'm a slam-bang wonder?"
"Yes." She cuddled closer. "And because I wanted to be close to you. Could we just hold each other for a little while?"
"All night, if that's what you want."
"Your voice sounds… funny."
"Imagination." He cleared his throat. "I'm Apache. In the Apache language, emotion is expressed only by words, not tone."
"Interesting. Then I think you're more like your Spanish mother than Apache." His heart was loud, fast beneath her ear. "But I don't want you to hold me like this all night. Just for a little while…"