It didn't matter to him that she had been married before, that she'd never gotten divorced. He didn't care. Liam knew that there were ways of being connected that went beyond ceremonies and licenses. He loved Lily with every part of himself. She owned his heart, and so did Rose. No matter what happened, they were his life.

So time didn't really matter to Liam. His desire for Lily had no bounds. He knew he'd sell his soul to be with her for ten minutes. But that would be as true tomorrow or next year or in twenty years as it was now. She made his skin tingle, and his heart pound, just to think of her.

As much as he wanted to take Patrick up on his idea, Liam knew they had to be very careful. The person who had scared her half to death had been her husband, her baby's father. He had had Lily declared dead, so he could collect on her insurance and cash in her stocks and bonds. Patrick had filled Liam in on all the details.

Lily had existed merely as a food source to Edward Hunter. Liam understood the dynamic very well. Although he studied whales, they were collateral to his main academic focus.

Sharks.

Liam's brother Connor had been killed by the same great white shark that had taken Liam's arm. Liam knew that sharks ate to live. They patrolled the oceans, always in search of prey. They didn't attack out of any sense of hate. They were emotionless in their quest for food.

Liam knew that Edward Hunter was like a shark. He had targeted Lily because she was a good prospect. He had probably thought he'd live off her for the rest of his life. But unlike sharks, human predators possessed great capacities for rage when thwarted. Liam knew that when she walked out on him, Edward had been viciously angry—and people were still paying for it.

Liam had been quietly researching, and he believed that Edward Hunter was a very specific type of personality. He looked and acted like other people. He knew just what to say and do to get people to trust him. He “groomed” people—Lily, Marisa—even before he'd made his move: listened to them talk, figured out what moved and motivated them, and then appeared to give them what they most wanted.

As Dr. Robert Hare stated on page one of Without Conscience, “Everybody has met these people, been deceived and manipulated by them, and forced to live with or repair the damage they have wrought. These often charming—but always deadly—individuals have a clinical name: psychopaths. Their hallmark is a stunning lack of conscience; their game is self-gratification at the other person's expense. Many spend time in prison, but many do not. All take far more than they give.”