He wanted her to be his. With a bone-deep longing, he wanted this perfect, this innocent, this laughing child to belong to him.

Grace’s knees wobbled as she walked to them. The picture they made flashed into her mind, into her heart, where she knew it would imprint itself. The lanky man with big hands and a serious smile and the golden-bright child with a pink bow in her hair.

The sun poured over them as full and rich as the love that poured from her heart.

‘‘She’s been ready to come over since she opened her eyes this morning,’’ Grace began. ‘‘I thought we could come a little early and I’d give Anna a hand.’’ He was watching her so intently, so quietly, her nerves did a rapid dance under her skin. ‘‘There’s not much left to do, but—’’

She broke off because his arm had snaked out, wrapped around her fast and hard to pull her against him. She had time to draw in one startled breath before his mouth came down on hers. Rough and needy, it shot bolts of heat into her blood, sent her startled brain into a dizzying spin. Dimly she heard Aubrey’s happy squeal.

‘‘Kiss, Mama!’’

Oh, yes, Grace thought, sprinting to catch up to this frantic pace he’d set. Please. Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.

She thought she heard some sound from him, a sigh perhaps, that came from someplace too deep inside to make a sound. His lips softened. The hand that had clutched the back of her shirt like a man gripping his own life opened, stroked. This gentler, sweeter emotion that shimmered from him was no calmer than that first whip of greed; it only gilded the edges of the yearning he’d stirred.

She could smell him, heat and man. She could smell her daughter, powder and child. Her arms circled them both, instinctively making them a unit, holding there when the kiss ended and she could press her face into hisshoulder.

He’d never kissed her in front of anyone. She knew Cam had only been a few feet away when Ethan had taken hold of her. And Seth would have seen . . . and Anna.

What did it mean?

‘‘Kiss me!’’ Aubrey demanded, patting her hand against Ethan’s cheek and puckering up.

He obliged her, then nuzzled at her neck where it would tickle and make her laugh. Then he turned his head and brushed his lips over Grace’s hair. ‘‘I didn’t mean to grab you that way.’’

‘‘I was hoping you did,’’ she murmured. ‘‘It made me feel you’ve been thinking about me. Wanting me.’’

‘‘I’ve been thinking about you, Grace. I’ve been wanting you.’’

Because Aubrey was wiggling, he set her down and let her run off toward Seth and the dogs. ‘‘I meant I didn’t mean to be rough with you.’’

‘‘You weren’t. I’m not fragile, Ethan.’’