Bryce sipped his wine, watching her. The robe had slipped off her shoulder, her hair spilling down her back in long chestnut curls. He said what was on his mind.

"You're beautiful, Ciara."

Her lips curved gently, yet she kept staring out the window. "Thank you." It had been a long time since she'd heard that. From any man. And from this one, it was dangerous. She changed the subject instantly. "You're lucky. This is an incredible place."

He studied her, her chin in her palm, her elbow braced on the back of the sofa. She looked serene and content. Almost as if it were the first time in her life she'd relaxed.

"Well, you're easily amused I see."

She smiled and kept staring. "Simple pleasures," she said softly as if talking too loud would destroy them.

"I loved growing up here. It has everything anyone could want. I wish I could spend more time enjoying those simple pleasures."

"Me, too."

He knew she meant with Carolina.

"I'd forgotten what they were," she said.

"How so?"

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"No real chance to enjoy them, I guess."

"Well this is a small town with a lot of simplicity. It's home. Safe and a good place to raise Carolina." He paused and then said, "It's not exactly Hong Kong though, is it?"

Okay, she thought, that zinger didn't hit too hard. "Why did you leave the Secret Service?"

"My wife needed me home." Bryce frowned slightly. He'd never said that out loud to anyone. He'd made excuses to himself and Diana about leaving the Secret Service two months after they married, that be was tired of the traveling, of the risks. But that wasn't it. He'd felt responsible for her happiness. Or rather, her lack of it. He couldn't love her and had ruined her life. It was that simple and that difficult to forget.

"She didn't like you traveling, huh?"

"Diana wasn't good at being alone and … I'd rather not talk about her." Not to you, he thought. Hell, not to anyone.

Ciara nodded, understanding his late wife's situation. It's the reason she'd never married, and why most of her fellow field agents were single or divorced. They were never home when they were needed and wives and husbands who couldn't handle the secretiveness and long absences usually strayed or left altogether.

Oh, what we do for our country, she thought, then watched a gull swoop down to the water to pluck a fish from the sea. It made her breath catch.

"What is it?"

"A gull. Night fishing."

He rose and moved closer to her, peering out the window. "It's a hawk."

She looked up. In that instant she appeared innocent and a little scared. He eased to the sofa beside her and set his wineglass on the coffee table. He pointed to the long dock. "I've had that little johnboat since I was sixteen," he said, gesturing to the battered craft beside the cabin cruiser. "There isn't a part of these rivers that I don't know."

"When was the last time you were out there?"

He sighed to himself. "Too long to think about."

"Maybe you need to do it again. Of course, the cabin cruiser would be more comfortable."

Her dry tone didn't escape him. "Yeah, but seeing the river from a little boat like that, it's just better all around, more in touch with the wildlife. Wild hogs come down to the shore, you know."

She didn't, but that was hardly on her mind right now. His attention was focused on her and he reached, touching her hair, sweeping it off her neck.

Instantly she tensed and eyed him, pulling the robe up over her shoulder. "Trying to seduce me, Bryce?"

"Will it work?"

Yes, oh yes, she thought. "Sure." His muscles clamped hard at that. "But that's not what you want."

He frowned. "How can you be sure?"

"I can't, but you could have any woman you wanted. I may be convenient, but I'm not the forever type."

"Who said I wanted forever?"

"We've been down this road, remember? Yesterday. Or was it the day before?"

"Or five years before."

Her lips thinned. "You really need to let that go." She was more than right, yet something in him, something he didn't understand pushed him on. "I keep seeing you—"

"Don't."

"Feeling you."

"Bryce. Quit that." She left the couch, setting her glass down as she did.

Absently he realized she hadn't drunk any of it.

"Running again, Ciara?"

"I'm staying here for Carolina. So that means you stay away."

"I'm trying, God knows I am. But I have this almost uncontrollable need to touch you."

"Well stuff it somewhere! I won't be used again!"

He scowled. Did she mean like they'd used each other in Hong Kong, or by someone else?




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