Like a fifteen-year-old boy, he was instantly aroused, the pressure of his male desire unmistakable against the fabric over her stomach. Just as instantly her breasts tightened, crushed against a loosened tie and broad chest. Anticipation danced happily through her veins, an anticipation Susan had never even envisioned in a man-woman relationship before she met Griff. Shy women could actually turn wanton, a revelation she was still discovering as she reluctantly pulled back from the peppermint taste of Griff’s mouth.

“I promised you I’d have a roast all ready at the apartment when you came home,” she said ruefully.

“You don’t think for one minute I believed you?” He motioned to the white paper bag on the counter.

Her eyes widened as she peeked in. “War sui gui? Sweet and sour shrimp? And won ton soup, steamed dumplings… Oh, Griff!”

Griff built a fire in the library, and they ate the Chinese food in front of it. After the meal, Griff sat on the floor cross-legged in front of the fire, Susan’s head cradled in his lap on occasion. She kept popping up and down, roasting marshmallows on a twig. Images of Griff’s children, Tom and Barbara and Tiger, kept popping into her head just as sporadically. Those few outings before the wedding had seemed to go well, but a foundation for any real relationship could hardly be started with an afternoon’s romp in a swimming pool, or a couple of hours at a movie, or when that noisy clan got together for a dinner. The picture of those three pairs of eyes staring gravely at her during the marriage ceremony in the chambers of the justice of the peace still touched her heart. Yet suddenly Susan wondered if they hadn’t been too grave, especially Barbara, with her perpetual aura of anxiety. Darlings, I am not going to hurt you. She was just so impatient to have them here, with her and Griff, a family unit loving and caring for each other.