She did nothing to try to control the shakes that rattled her body,and didn't attempt to stop herself from crying. Tears left both of her eyes at the far corners,slipping out and flowing over her temples.Some landed in her ears. Some eased down her neck and were absorbed by the pillow.Others clouded her vision,as if they didn't want to leave home.

In the far corner, a tenor began to sing, Zsadist's crystal-clear voice sailing up toward the warrior paintings on the ceiling far, far above them all. At first John didn't know what the song was...although if he'd been asked what his name was, he would have said Santa Claus, or Luther Vandross, or Teddy Roosevelt. Maybe even Joan Collins.

In the oh-my-God-this-has-to-be-Christmas silence that followed, he struggled to reorder the last six months, to catch up with this reality they'd somehow missed. He wanted her. She wanted him. Was it true?

How sweetly he came to her, she thought. Even with his bulk and power, he came to her...sweetly.

When I lie this close to you, when I smell your scent, when I hear your voice, I know everything that matters." She looked down the length of him. "You are the male I want to mate with. That's who you are.

Pull up your big girl panties and just do it.

All kings are blind. The good ones see this and use more than their eyes to lead.