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She told herself not to be ridiculous. What kind of bad guy was going to hunt John down in Newport, Rhode Island? And who'd even know he was at Willings?

Time passed. And her reasonable side got ambushed by the terrible pictures flying through her head.

Grace looked at the panic button. If she activated it, and he didn't come, she'd know he was in trouble.

Yeah, and then what was she going to do? Arm herself with a hairbrush and go hunting for him in her nightgown?

No, she'd go get Jack, she thought. They'd figure out what to do.

She went over, picked up the panic button and pressed the red pad.

In a nanosecond, Smith came crashing through the balcony doors, wood splintering and falling to the floor as he broke the lock. His gun was drawn and his eyes were black as hell while he scanned the room. As she looked him, she knew without a doubt that he was capable of deadly force.

And that she'd made an awful mistake.

"Oh..." Words failed her. "Shit."


After he'd looked around the room and over her body, he demanded, "What's wrong?"

Grace felt badly. And foolish. "Er—nothing."

"Why the hell did you hit the panic button then? "

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know where you were and—"

"Jesus," Smith swore as he tucked his gun into its holster. "That thing is not a pager."

"I know. I really shouldn't have used it unless I had an emergency." She offered him a chagrined smile. "Believe me, I'm never touching that thing again."

"No, I want you to use it. Just make sure there's a good reason to." He went over and inspected the door. "This is going to need a serious repair job."

Shaking his head, he shut the doors and propped them closed with a chair.

"What were you doing out on the porch? " she blurted.

"Did you need anything?"

There was a long pause. She met his eyes.

Do it, she thought. Just say the words.

"I need you."

Before he could get a word out, she approached him.

"You told me that we could have one night together. I know you've regretted the invitation but you have to admit the two of us are driving each other crazy. If you're worried about being distracted or whether Fm going to get hurt, do you honestly think things can get any more complicated? Whether you want to admit it or not, we are involved, John. I think we should stop talking. And start making love."

With sharp movements, he took off the jacket he'd worn to dinner, as if the room had suddenly grown hot.

"You know I’m right," she said softly.

His eyes fixed on the door to the hall and, when he finally moved, she was sure it would be to leave. Instead, he came over and wrapped his arms around her.

"God help us," he said.

Grace raised her mouth for his kiss but he pulled back his head.

"If we spend the night together, it won't change the ending," he said. "I’m still going to leave."

Staring into his eyes, she said, "I know. But you're here now, aren't you? So shut up and kiss me."

With a sardonic smile, he murmured, "Are you getting tough on me?"

"Yes." She pulled his mouth down to hers.

As their lips touched, she heard a groan of need rise from him. His tongue dove into her mouth and she met the thrust passionately. The kiss quickly took on a wild edge.

Roughly, he stripped her robe from her shoulders and then she felt her nightgown drift down to the floor. As the cool air hit her skin, she circled her arms around his shoulders but stopped when she felt the gun. He pulled back and took off the holster and then his shirt. As he undressed, his eyes never left her face and she relished the expanse of his chest and his ribbed stomach. She reached out, touching warm, male skin.

"I want to see you," he said, moving her over to the bed and into a pool of light. As he looked at her, she heard a hiss and was stunned by the dark need in his face. He sat, or perhaps it was even collapsed, onto the bed.

He reached up and took her breasts into his palms, his thumbs rubbing the nipples, which were already taut. They peaked even further with his touch and her head fell back as a moan of desire escaped her. Leaning forward, he took the tip of one breast into his mouth and she gripped his shoulders, then his neck, then his head. His mouth went lower, down the flat plane of her stomach and over to her hip, his teeth gently nipping at her skin.

And then, as if He couldn't stand it any longer, he pulled her forward on top of him. His arms gripped her body tightly and his arousal was thick and hard, pressing into her. She reached down in between them, searching for his belt buckle, as he continued to kiss her. With one fluid motion, he rolled her over, pulled back and took off his pants. The first moment she felt him totally naked against her, Grace felt a surge of heat that was almost pain.

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