Absolutely, Positively

was a strange glitter in his eyes. “What did you say?”

    “Don't you like it when I talk dirty?”

    “Molly…”

    “Come back to bed, Harry.” She patted the sheet beside her. “There's absolutely nothing you can do until after breakfast. If you can't sleep, we'll find some way to fill the time.”

    He hesitated. Then the taut lines of his face relaxed slightly. He walked to the side of the bed and looked down at her with a thoughtful expression that was belied by the extraordinarily brilliant gleam in his eyes.

    “Significant clinical abnormalities?” he murmured.

    “What can I say? I'm a sucker for 'em. Yes, sir, give me those hours of boredom followed by moments of stark terror, and I'm a happy camper.”

    Harry's teeth flashed in a lethally sexy grin. He put one knee on the bed and leaned down, trapping her between his arms. “I eat happy campers for bedtime snacks.”

    “Can't wait.” She put her arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her.

    He came to her in a rush of sensual, startlingly playful energy. He seized hold of her and rolled over and over with her until the sheets were tangled and Molly was laughing helplessly.

    He finally brought the tumbling game to a halt near the foot of the bed and braced himself on his elbows above her.

    Flushed and breathless, Molly looked up and saw the uninhibited joy in him.

    “There is nothing quite like the taste of a happy camper,” Harry murmured. His eyes gleamed in the shadows as he slid slowly down the length of her body. He settled himself between her legs.

    Molly felt his teeth on the inside of her thigh. She gasped and dug her fingers into his shoulders. He parted her gently with his fingers.

    “Harry?”

    And then she felt his mouth on her in an unbearably intimate kiss.

    The world came apart.

    Molly shut the refrigerator door and set the box of fresh raspberries down on the counter next to the sink. “You know, Harry, I've been thinking. This condo of yours is nice enough and the view is terrific, but it's not very functional.”

    “Functional?” Harry echoed absently. He held the kitchen phone in one hand as he prepared to punch in Fergus Rice's phone number.

    “You know, efficient. I miss my housekeeping machines. The dusting robots, the dishwasher, and the kitchen cleanup devices. The Abberwick Food Storage and Preparation Machine. Honestly, I don't know how you get along with these old-fashioned appliances. They're straight out of the Dark Ages.”

    “I've got a housekeeper, remember?” Harry listened impatiently as the phone rang on the other end of the line.

    “Yes, I know, but still, it all seems so primitive.”

    Harry scowled as the phone rang for the third time. “Put that knife down.”

    “I was just going to slice some English muffins to go with the raspberries.”

    “I'll slice the muffins when I get off the phone.”

    “Sheesh. Are you always this grumpy in the morning?”

    “Only when I see you with a knife in your hand.” The phone continued to ring.

    Molly set the knife aside and propped her elbows on the counter. “How do you feel about moving into my house after we're married?”

    “The Abberwick mansion?” Harry glanced at the clock. It was nearly eight. Fergus usually went into his office early. “You want to stay in that crazy old house?”

    “It's a great place for kids. They'd have Kelsey's and my old toys to play with. And you'd have plenty of room for your books. You could have one whole wing for your offices and library. The kids would be underfoot all the time, of course, but I think you'd like that.”

    Harry stopped listening to the phone, his full attention suddenly riveted on Molly. “Kids?”

    “Sure. How many do you want? I know we're going to have at least two.”

    “Uh—” Harry broke off at the sound of Fergus's voice.

    “Rice here.”

    “Fergus, it's Harry.”

    “For crying out loud, Harry, it's two minutes to eight. I just walked in the door. Haven't even had my second cup of coffee.”

    “I'm calling about the Kendall situation.”

    “What situation? I thought the accident down in Oregon took care of the problem. The man's dead, Harry.”

    “I know. But I want to examine his car. Where did the authorities take it?”

    “It'll probably be hauled off to a wrecking yard sometime today. Something wrong?”

    “I don't know. Have the authorities finished the accident investigation?”

    “Sure. Finished it yesterday. It was all