““Having come this far, I don’t see how I will manage to sit by while you or someone else tried to find Royce.” Despite himself, he felt a spurt of sympathy for her. Were their positions reversed, he would find such passivity the worst torture. But why was he thinking of that? He was a man, she a woman. Their positions were never going to be reversed. They were etched in tradition, culture and pain common sense. “What did you think you would be doing?” he asked gently. “Wandering over hill and dale, beating the bushes for him?” A sudden, wistful smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. It very nearly undid him. “You know,” she said, “I can see myself doing just that.” His smile was rueful. “Unfortunately, so can I.” The back of his fingers brushed her cheek gently. “Joanna, you must know that cannot be.” Her name seemed as natural on his tongue as if they had been intimate for many years. He had a sudden, startling urge to hear her say his own. Madness. Their gazes locked. Mere inches separated them. It would require only the slightest effort for him to lower his head and taste again that warm, tantalizing mouth…””
