No more than the force of his ardent what ifs. His grip had merely been firm enough to suggest he had the strength to hold her, but giving her room to...pull free if she chose. The whisper, she knew, had been because the elevator was crowded.She hadn't turned - hadn't pulled away – but smiled to herself at his clandestine audacity.She reached up along her body and touched the hollow at the base of her throat, simply feeling her breath go in and out a moment or two before letting her hand drift. Permanently. We'll have to get a van to drive me around for a while. But, I'm home." God that's great! I mean, not your injury. That's terrible, but you're home! ... How come you're not excited at seeing me, or being home or..." No, no ... I am excited at seeing you. See this bulge in my pants? That's not a handgun I've got in my pocket. It's just that ... I mean ... I trust you." There's a 'but' in that sentence, isn't there?" Yeah, I guess there is. I mean it's been nearly eighteen months. More

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