"Thanks," she said, her voice strained as their hands brushed when he passed it to her. Grant let his fingers linger for a luxurious moment, then broke the contact. Before she could hide the truth, he saw the proof, the small frown of disconcertment. Of disappointment. Oh, it was good. Hell, it was wonderful, fantastic, exhilarating! Just as electric as the shared bond that had leaped and surged between them less than an hour ago. He owed the reverend. That long, drawn-out closing prayer had had some miracle magic, and Cammie hadn't been able to disguise her response. She was too transparent to begin with; Cammie couldn't lie her way out of a paper bag. Besides, they could read each other as if with ESP. and both of them knew it. "Hurry up, kids," Dorothy called from the adjoining kitchen. "We need to change clothes and eat so we're not late for the game." "Coming!" Cammie wheeled around, then froze as Grant grabbed her hand. Her gaze riveted on his firm fingers as he curled them into her soft, warm flesh.
