uncommit then."
"Good luck." His lips formed a mocking smile. "Let me know what kind of excuse you come up with, because it's going to have to be something pretty amazing to convince the folks you've got a legitimate reason not to go along with me. Especially since I'm inclined to ask a lot of questions."
"You wouldn't."
"Try me." His eyes narrowed in challenge. "I'm holding the ace, Cammie. And you should know by now that I never bluff."
"I thought I knew you all these years, Grant. But I was wrong. You don't play fair. You make up the rules to suit your purposes."
"That's right, sweetheart. I've always played to win. You were just too blinded by what you wanted to see to find out what I really am."
"Which in this case is conniving, despicable, arrogant, and..." She searched for another insult to throw into his smug, satisfied face. "And insensitive," she finished.
"I'm also head over heels in love." His eyes met hers evenly, but with enough force to knock the world from beneath her feet. His determined expression blended with his words to tilt the scales in favor of his skewed point of view.
"As for those newer qualities you seem to have discovered in me," he went on, "I've probably been all those things at one time or another. But I'm also honest. You have my word on it, Cammie. I'll fight as dirty as I have to, to get what I want. Consider yourself warned, because I won't stop for anyone or anything. Not until I hear you say that you're in love with me too. Too crazy in love to give a tinker's damn about what anyone else thinks because you're committed to me, and only me. Sorry to break the news, but I happen to be insufferably selfish as well. Skimpy, guilty, stolen bits and pieces of you won't cut it. I want your loyalty, I want your body, I want your heart. I refuse to accept anything less."
For a moment she struggled with a mixture of panic and excitement. As a brother, Grant was someone she had relied on for comfort and understanding. She couldn't reconcile that with this dark stranger he had evolved into. This man who was formidable, challenging. Dangerous.
She felt like she was in over her head, scrambling to salvage the crumbling remains of her old world. Her dearest ally had become her second opponent. The biggest enemy was someone she didn't recognize inside herself. With too many mixed emotions roiling inside her, she felt she was in both hell and heaven, with no way to tell one from the other.
In a last-ditch effort to cling to the familiar, to the safety of what they'd had, she said honestly, "I do love you, Grant. I've always loved you."
"Not good enough. I want you to be in love with me." His gaze roved over her face, down to her breasts, then lingered at her lap, a heavy-lidded gaze that was laden with sexuality. "You're flushed. Your nipples are tight. You want me. That's not good enough, either."
She slid, like a drowning man going under, into the inky blackness that beckoned. Cammie swallowed hard, wet her lips.
Grant leaned forward. With the propriety of a husband, he stroked his fingertips over her breast, then casually withdrew.
She ached to call him back, to plead for more. But she didn't dare.
"Tell me, Cammie," he whispered, "are you in love with me?"
Was she? Oh, Lord, she didn't know. It was too much, too soon, and too possibly true.
"We can't forget the people we love," she said, frantic to remember what stood between them.
Clasping the locket tight, she scanned the room for portraits, for handmade reminders of why she couldn't do this, shouldn't even think it. He was steering her on a one-way course of no return, and she flailed blindly against the tide.
"That again," he snorted impatiently. "Damn, why do you always have to go back to that?"
"Because it's there, Grant. It exists and it won't go away. You've never lost a family. I have. It's torture. It's the most horrible, excruciating thing in my life. Your family is all that I've got and you're asking me to risk giving it
"Good luck." His lips formed a mocking smile. "Let me know what kind of excuse you come up with, because it's going to have to be something pretty amazing to convince the folks you've got a legitimate reason not to go along with me. Especially since I'm inclined to ask a lot of questions."
"You wouldn't."
"Try me." His eyes narrowed in challenge. "I'm holding the ace, Cammie. And you should know by now that I never bluff."
"I thought I knew you all these years, Grant. But I was wrong. You don't play fair. You make up the rules to suit your purposes."
"That's right, sweetheart. I've always played to win. You were just too blinded by what you wanted to see to find out what I really am."
"Which in this case is conniving, despicable, arrogant, and..." She searched for another insult to throw into his smug, satisfied face. "And insensitive," she finished.
"I'm also head over heels in love." His eyes met hers evenly, but with enough force to knock the world from beneath her feet. His determined expression blended with his words to tilt the scales in favor of his skewed point of view.
"As for those newer qualities you seem to have discovered in me," he went on, "I've probably been all those things at one time or another. But I'm also honest. You have my word on it, Cammie. I'll fight as dirty as I have to, to get what I want. Consider yourself warned, because I won't stop for anyone or anything. Not until I hear you say that you're in love with me too. Too crazy in love to give a tinker's damn about what anyone else thinks because you're committed to me, and only me. Sorry to break the news, but I happen to be insufferably selfish as well. Skimpy, guilty, stolen bits and pieces of you won't cut it. I want your loyalty, I want your body, I want your heart. I refuse to accept anything less."
For a moment she struggled with a mixture of panic and excitement. As a brother, Grant was someone she had relied on for comfort and understanding. She couldn't reconcile that with this dark stranger he had evolved into. This man who was formidable, challenging. Dangerous.
She felt like she was in over her head, scrambling to salvage the crumbling remains of her old world. Her dearest ally had become her second opponent. The biggest enemy was someone she didn't recognize inside herself. With too many mixed emotions roiling inside her, she felt she was in both hell and heaven, with no way to tell one from the other.
In a last-ditch effort to cling to the familiar, to the safety of what they'd had, she said honestly, "I do love you, Grant. I've always loved you."
"Not good enough. I want you to be in love with me." His gaze roved over her face, down to her breasts, then lingered at her lap, a heavy-lidded gaze that was laden with sexuality. "You're flushed. Your nipples are tight. You want me. That's not good enough, either."
She slid, like a drowning man going under, into the inky blackness that beckoned. Cammie swallowed hard, wet her lips.
Grant leaned forward. With the propriety of a husband, he stroked his fingertips over her breast, then casually withdrew.
She ached to call him back, to plead for more. But she didn't dare.
"Tell me, Cammie," he whispered, "are you in love with me?"
Was she? Oh, Lord, she didn't know. It was too much, too soon, and too possibly true.
"We can't forget the people we love," she said, frantic to remember what stood between them.
Clasping the locket tight, she scanned the room for portraits, for handmade reminders of why she couldn't do this, shouldn't even think it. He was steering her on a one-way course of no return, and she flailed blindly against the tide.
"That again," he snorted impatiently. "Damn, why do you always have to go back to that?"
"Because it's there, Grant. It exists and it won't go away. You've never lost a family. I have. It's torture. It's the most horrible, excruciating thing in my life. Your family is all that I've got and you're asking me to risk giving it
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