taken from her.
Heath’s smile faded, his jaw bunched with tension.“If you need the words, I’ll say them. I’d cut off my arm before I hurt a hair on her head.”
Deep down where it most counted, Grey knew this. He knew it with every cell of his being; Heath would give her all the pleasure she could handle, but no more. And he wouldn’t stick around after sex. He’d be gone before anyone knew what happened, his current obsession forgotten, and never, ever, come back for more.
“I’m in control,” Grey said with steely finality.
“I’m not complaining.”
“Good.We’re clear, then.” Relaxing at last, he sank into his chair and flicked open the button of his jacket as he leaned forward, all business. “About dinner . . .”
Chapter Four
It gave her a heady feeling, driving Grey’s manly, rumbling car. An unnerving one, too, because she feared she’d scratch it or flat-out smash it up like she’d done her old Ford.
Drivers glanced at her as they sped past her, probably thinking, Why is this person in such a sporty car driving at forty miles an hour?
Pointedly ignoring them, Toni kept her eyes on her own lane, trying not to consider the fact that she might be needing glasses to drive. All that time over her papers, the computer . . . not good for her eyes.
She absorbed the fancy car interior—shiny chrome, glossy wood, yummy- scented black leather. Turning on the radio, she scanned the stations until she found a favorite Madonna song playing, then cranked it to a loud blast and guided the sleek black car to her parents’ small home at Old Town. Every time she turned, the wheel slid inside her fingers like butter. She loved this little car.
Old Town was a curious neighborhood, its architecture ranging from cozy cottages to modern high- rise buildings. Her parents’ home was among the smaller ones, but with its green lawn and baskets of flowers flanking the front door,Toni thought it was the most inviting. Or maybe it was just her childhood memories that made it seem so inviting.The corner stand where she and Janice, aka Pippi Longstocking, had sold lemonade to their neighbors. Planting her very first tree, the top of which she could no longer see, it had overgrown the house so fast.
Finding a spot for the Porsche under that tree, she parked and strolled into the two-story brick home.The scent of baking cookies expanded her lungs. Mouth watering, she followed the familiar sound of her mother’s humming down a narrow, shadowed hall and into the brightly lit kitchen.
“What’s for dinner?”
The slim, silvering woman by the oven jumped in fright. “Antonia, you scared me to death!”
Laughing because her mother never called her Antonia unless she was serious,Toni snatched up a thick glove and helped her pull out the cookie sheet, setting it atop the stove. She tried plucking one up, but her mom slapped her hand. “Hot! And wait until after dinner.”
Toni groaned and moved over to her customary position at the kitchen island to help chop the vegetables.
She hadn’t yet positioned the tomato, and Mom was already telling her all about her friends’ daughters who were getting married, had gotten married, or were happily expecting, and Toni frowned down at the cutting board, knowing what was to come.
“So how are you and Grey?”
Yes. There it was. She stifled a moan and sliced. “Fine, Mom. How are you and Dad?”
“Well, you know your father. Got that crazy hunting thing in his head. I swear if I’d known he was going to start killing all these animals, I’d never have married him.”
Keeping her hands busy, her mom moved around the kitchen island.The place was bright and cluttered, with colored pots hanging from the ceiling. Mom’s knitting sat in a nearby basket, her gossip magazines tucked into a corner.
“So when are you and Grey going to tie the knot?” she asked, wiping her hands on her apron.
Toni sighed drearily, her temples beginning to throb. She had to set the
Heath’s smile faded, his jaw bunched with tension.“If you need the words, I’ll say them. I’d cut off my arm before I hurt a hair on her head.”
Deep down where it most counted, Grey knew this. He knew it with every cell of his being; Heath would give her all the pleasure she could handle, but no more. And he wouldn’t stick around after sex. He’d be gone before anyone knew what happened, his current obsession forgotten, and never, ever, come back for more.
“I’m in control,” Grey said with steely finality.
“I’m not complaining.”
“Good.We’re clear, then.” Relaxing at last, he sank into his chair and flicked open the button of his jacket as he leaned forward, all business. “About dinner . . .”
Chapter Four
It gave her a heady feeling, driving Grey’s manly, rumbling car. An unnerving one, too, because she feared she’d scratch it or flat-out smash it up like she’d done her old Ford.
Drivers glanced at her as they sped past her, probably thinking, Why is this person in such a sporty car driving at forty miles an hour?
Pointedly ignoring them, Toni kept her eyes on her own lane, trying not to consider the fact that she might be needing glasses to drive. All that time over her papers, the computer . . . not good for her eyes.
She absorbed the fancy car interior—shiny chrome, glossy wood, yummy- scented black leather. Turning on the radio, she scanned the stations until she found a favorite Madonna song playing, then cranked it to a loud blast and guided the sleek black car to her parents’ small home at Old Town. Every time she turned, the wheel slid inside her fingers like butter. She loved this little car.
Old Town was a curious neighborhood, its architecture ranging from cozy cottages to modern high- rise buildings. Her parents’ home was among the smaller ones, but with its green lawn and baskets of flowers flanking the front door,Toni thought it was the most inviting. Or maybe it was just her childhood memories that made it seem so inviting.The corner stand where she and Janice, aka Pippi Longstocking, had sold lemonade to their neighbors. Planting her very first tree, the top of which she could no longer see, it had overgrown the house so fast.
Finding a spot for the Porsche under that tree, she parked and strolled into the two-story brick home.The scent of baking cookies expanded her lungs. Mouth watering, she followed the familiar sound of her mother’s humming down a narrow, shadowed hall and into the brightly lit kitchen.
“What’s for dinner?”
The slim, silvering woman by the oven jumped in fright. “Antonia, you scared me to death!”
Laughing because her mother never called her Antonia unless she was serious,Toni snatched up a thick glove and helped her pull out the cookie sheet, setting it atop the stove. She tried plucking one up, but her mom slapped her hand. “Hot! And wait until after dinner.”
Toni groaned and moved over to her customary position at the kitchen island to help chop the vegetables.
She hadn’t yet positioned the tomato, and Mom was already telling her all about her friends’ daughters who were getting married, had gotten married, or were happily expecting, and Toni frowned down at the cutting board, knowing what was to come.
“So how are you and Grey?”
Yes. There it was. She stifled a moan and sliced. “Fine, Mom. How are you and Dad?”
“Well, you know your father. Got that crazy hunting thing in his head. I swear if I’d known he was going to start killing all these animals, I’d never have married him.”
Keeping her hands busy, her mom moved around the kitchen island.The place was bright and cluttered, with colored pots hanging from the ceiling. Mom’s knitting sat in a nearby basket, her gossip magazines tucked into a corner.
“So when are you and Grey going to tie the knot?” she asked, wiping her hands on her apron.
Toni sighed drearily, her temples beginning to throb. She had to set the
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