her again.

And that would be another mistake.

she smiled as she followed him into the kitchen.

"Talk about service."

He glanced over his shoulder, placing the width of the gray-tiled

counter between them - "It's not the kind you're used to." ge of a

princess wasif t She wished that this fictitious ima shimmering between

them.

"It's the kind I like. Besides, for the last eleven years, I've basically been on my own."

He picked the skillet up from the burner and emptied the remaining contents onto a plate.

He'd eaten his breakfast earlier.

"That long?"

The toast had just popped.

He swiped a knife with butter on it over the two pieces, making marginal contact.

Done.

She nodded in answer to his question.

Did he have any idea how endearing he looked, attempting to be

domestic?

"College, and then my own business. I couldn't stay at the house after I returned from Paris."

Not with her mother living there.

Regina had wanted to take control of her life again and Caitlin had

absolutely refused to allow it.

Regina had assumed it was a passing phase.

She was greatly put out to learn that it wasn't.

"Especially not after Daddy died."

He'd been her only ally.

"Home wasn't home to me anymore. I had to find my own niche."

Like him, Graham thought.

Except that Caitlin wasn't like him.

She was as far from him as the stars were from the earth.

Caitlin dragged her hand through her hair, blinking the last remnants

of sleep from her eyes.

With a contented sigh she sat at the counter and looked at the plate he set before her.

Toast and eggs.

Both were slightly burned around the edges.

Like him, she mused.

She curled her hands around the steaming cup of coffee he'd poured for her.

"So, what's on the agenda? Am I allowed to go to work?"

He would rather she stayed at home, in protective custody, but he knew she'd go stir-crazy if he attempted that.

It was something he could relate to.

He knew what it felt like to be caged.

The only difference was that his cage was invisible; it was his soul

that was locked up.

Still, the bars were real, and just as confining.

Maybe more so.

Coffee cup in hand, Graham slid onto the stool next to hers, carefully

keeping his eyes on her face.

"I'll take you to work as soon as you're ready, then my partner will take over."

Caitlin wondered if she actually stiffened or if it only felt as if she

had.

She didn't like what she heard in his voice.

"But I'll see you again?"

He contemplated the inside of his cup.

Black liquid shimmered up at him.

Black, like the future he could offer her.

Maybe he could talk to the captain.

"Caitlin, that might not be-" God, but he was dense.

"You say 'wise' and you're going to be one sorry police detective when I get through with you." He laughed. The image of Caitlin pounding her fists on him tickled him." Quite the little wildcat, aren't you?

She raised her chin pugnaciously, but her eyes shone.

"When I have to be."

The light abated slightly.

"I wouldn't have been able to survive with Mother if I hadn't turned

into something other than the scatter rug she was grooming me to be."

Absently, she took a sip of the coffee.

It was strong.

A great deal stronger than anything she would have brewed, but it

helped brace her.

"What about you? Are you going home to see. Jake after you drop me off?" She tried to make her question sound conversational, but after all this time she was hungry for every single scrap of his life.

She wanted to be a part of it.

Permanently.

Not just because she was an assignment.

He nodded, then drained his own cup.

He set it down on the counter.

"Stopping there for a minute."

' They were back on professional footing.

He could handle that.

Graham turned on the stool, facing her, his hands laced before him.