From the moment the realtor had shown her the house, she'd thought its quaint charm was lessened by the modern barrier. Connor, knowing her so well, had surprised her by beginning the project while she was at work yesterday. He was constantly doing stuff like that—sensing her desires and working to make them reality. It was one of many, many things she loved about him.

As she watched, Justin came into view, also shirtless. He handed Connor another screw and then Connor handed him the drill. With endless patience, her dream lover slipped safety glasses over her son's eyes and taught him how to use the cordless drill. Justin finished securing the rest of the board by himself. Then he stepped back to admire his handiwork with pride, transforming his youthful features.

Stacey's chest tightened with the effort required to contain her love. Her eyes watered and her nose began to run. She reached for a tissue and forced herself to take deep, even breaths. If she got too upset, her nose would bleed, a side effect of the mind-infusion that she didn't want Connor to worry about.

As if he sensed the weight of her stare, Connor lifted his head and caught sight of her. He grinned and waved. Collecting herself, Stacey stepped on the accelerator and approached the house, turning into the driveway and shutting off the engine. He was opening the door and helping her out before she even had time to get the keys out of the ignition.

"I missed you," he rumbled, tugging with just enough force to bring her flush against him. "And I love these scrubs."

She laughed, thinking he was silly but glad that he was. Personally, she thought she was a bit nutty herself, and it was fabulous to share her life with a man who complimented that part of her.

"You say that about all my scrubs."

"Yeah, but these are my favorite. They're sexy."

With both brows raised, she glanced down at her clothing. "I'm doing something wrong if your idea of sexy is two cartoon dogs."

"Ah, but look at how the girl dog is batting those long lashes at the boy dog. That's romance."

Stacey shook her head and glanced up at him, basking in the warm, affectionate glow in his eyes.

"Romance is sexy?"

"Damn straight," he murmured, before taking her mouth in a hard quick kiss. When he pulled away, his gaze was dark with desire. "I can't do more than kiss you with Justin around. Even that makes him queasy, he says."

"Tonight, you're mine," she said, swatting his ass.

"You betcha." Connor caught her hand and pulled her toward the house. "I have something to show you."

"Oh, yeah?"

Every time he "showed" her something, it blew her away. His search for the artifacts forced him to travel a lot, but he was always thinking of her while he was gone. She knew it because of how often he called and by how many gifts he brought back for her. She didn't know how he did it, but he managed to dole out his presents here and there over the far-too-short trips home. Stacey knew she wouldn't have the patience. But, she had to admit, his way was far more fun.

He led her through the living room and into the bedroom, closing the door behind them.

"What about Justin?" she reminded, feeling her blood heat regardless. Connor's idea of a quickie put any other man's sexual marathon in the pale.

They'd once been heading out the door to take him to the airport when he decided he needed to say good-bye intimately… again. He'd dropped his carry-on, his pants, and her scrub bottoms in half a minute. Within five more he'd had her muffling orgasmic cries into the cushions of her sofa as he rode her fast and furious from behind.

"He's waiting for me." His smile made her tummy flip. "We're going to finish that side of the driveway before the sun sets."

Connor tossed her purse and keys onto the bed, then reached for the hem of her shirt and tugged it over her head. Immediately, he dove for the valley between her breasts and nuzzled there.

"Yum… You smell good," came his muffled praise.

"You're crazy."

"Seriously." He lifted his head and arched a brow.

"You and your apple pie are the best smelling things in this stinky world."

Laughing, she ran her fingers through his thick hair. "The world isn't stinky."

"Who are you kidding?" He reached for her waistband and pulled her pants down, pausing a moment to admire his handiwork as she kicked out of her sneakers. "Now that's sexy."

"Better than cartoon dogs?" She batted her eyelashes at him.

Her body was in pretty good shape these days, considering the work out he gave her when he was home and the extra care she gave to her appearance when he was gone. She trusted him implicitly, knew he loved her with every centimeter of his big heart, saw the proof of his pent up longing and lust in his gaze the moment he caught sight of her in the airport. But she also never forgot that the man was otherworldly fine.

He looked gorgeous for her, the least she could do was try to return the favor.

"Maybe," he said, with a roguish shrug.

Her mouth fell open in mock affront, and he reached around her and undid the clasp of her bra.

"Okay." His brogue deepened at the sight of her bare breasts. " That's definitely better than cartoon dogs."

"Well, that's something, I guess."

"But not the something," he teased, dropping to a crouch and taking her panties with him.

Connor pressed a kiss to her pelvic bone and stood. "Come on."

With his hand at the small of her back, he directed her to the bathroom. There she found their new self-heating spa tub filled with steaming water and surrounded by unlit candles. A metal caddy tray traversed the distance from one side of the tub to the other and held a small crystal vase of stargazer lilies—her favorite flower—and a jauntily opened box of gourmet chocolates.

"Nice!" She whistled, mentally calculating days and dates in an effort to recall if she should be marking an anniversary or special occasion of some sort. She winced as pain lanced through her head and she instantly gave up. Now was not the time to have a nose bleed.

Who knew the human brain could only hold so much information before it exploded? Thank god, someone in the Twilight was keeping on eye on her. Lieutenant Wager had coerced her subconsciously into sleep-writing a note to herself one night when Connor was away.

I'm working on it. Hang in there.

P.S. Wow! Have you got lots of great stuff in here.

Whatever. Stacey just felt better knowing that someone was actively working to help her. Who knew what she'd do if she didn't have Wager?

Connor would drive himself insane trying to fix it and she knew there was nothing he could do.

Having eons of information in her cranium told her that much. They had to get the data out of her head somehow and only the Elite in the Twilight had the technology to do it.

"You like?" Connor asked, beaming.

"I like," she confirmed, turning to face him and rising to her tiptoes to kiss him. "What's the occasion?"

"That's the something."

"The bath isn't the something?"

"Nope." He held out his hand to her and helped her into the tub.

After she sank beneath the water with a hiss of pleasure, Connor picked up a conveniently located lighter and lit all the candles. Then he kissed her forehead and said, "I'll be back in a bit."

He left the room and Stacey lay there a moment, trying to figure out what he was up to. Her gaze drifted around the tub, her heart both full and light. She reached for a chocolate and paused, noting the folded slip of paper beneath the gold foil box. Curious, she pulled it out and opened it.

Application for Marriage License.

Stacey froze.

The groom's side of the information had been filled out in crisp, clear print.

She exhaled slowly and carefully, then broke out in a wide grin. Maybe some women dreamed of romantic declarations, tuxedos, and/or grand gestures. Connor's gesture worked for her, because it came from his heart. She knew he had trouble putting his feelings into words, but he had no trouble showing her how he felt. After a lifetime of smooth-talking men who lacked substance, she loved having a man who was capable of so much more than just pretty, meaningless phrases.

From outside, she could hear the low rumble of Connor's voice on the porch, probably explaining something to Justin. Stacey was endlessly amazed by Connor's desire to teach and his aptitude for it.

It was a natural extension of his thoughtfulness.

He liked to say that he was all brawn, but really, she thought he was all heart.

Sighing with contentment, she set the precious paper down carefully and began to wash; preparing her body for the long night of lovemaking she knew was ahead.

"Does that dreamy smile mean what I think it does?"

Turning her head, she found Connor lounging against the jamb with wet hair and a towel around his hips. The image reminded her of their first night together and set her pulse rate racing.

She loved it when he got so hot for her he couldn't wait a minute longer to get inside her.

From the tent his cock was making against the terrycloth, it looked like he was close to feeling that way now.

"Does this paper mean what I think it does?" she retorted with a cheeky wink.

"If you think it means that I love you and want to make you mine in every way, then yes. You've got it right."

"I want you." The husky note in her voice left no doubt about what she wanted. She couldn't help it. Whenever he said the word "love," her instinctual response was the desire to wrap around him.

To hold him and be held by him. To feel his beautiful body straining as he fucked her hard and long. "Is it nine o'clock yet?"

His slow, sensual smile started a quiver low in her belly. "No. But Lyssa and Aidan just left with Justin. He's going to stay with them tonight." With a quick tug, Connor dropped the towel, revealing his magnificent cock. "By nine o'clock you'll be begging me to let you catch your breath."

"Oh yeah?" She licked her lips as he approached, twisting to come up onto her knees.