She'd never known him to do that before.

"You have some 'things' to take care of here, as well."

"Yeah, I know."

He set his glass in the sink, carefully choosing his words.

There wertn't any to appr riately OP cover this situation.

Especially considering the way she felt about marrying out of the

tribe.

"Look, Ma, I know I kind of dropped this on you without warning, but "

Lily cut his explanation short.

"She asked me to stay."

His dark brows gathered together.

Had she somehow gotten the wrong idea?

"I don't want you to leave-" Some things were understood.

"No, but when a man takes a wife-" He threw up his hands in a rare show

of impatience toward her.

"I already told you, this is just an arrangement between us to keep Celia from taking Jake away."

Lily wondered if he truly believed what he was saying.

If he had managed to fool himself.

"I think she hopes for more than that."

He shrugged, looking out into the yard.

He thought he saw something on the ground.

A sand painting?

It was probably just the way the moon was hitting the ground.

He turned back to look at his mother.

"She understands," he said firmly.

"Does she?"

Lily raised her eyes to his, challenging his words.

"Do you?"

He was far too tired to get into a philosophical debate.

"Ma, it's late."

"Yes."

She nodded her agreement.

"And you belong with your new wife," she said pointedly as she stepped

into the hall.

"Jake likes her."

Well, that hadn't taken long.

"And you?"

Graham couldn't help asking.

"Do you like her?"

It wouldn't change anything, but he was curious.

She didn't answer his question, but she gave him an answer of sorts.

"I like peace and harmony."

Lily stood in her doorway, waiting for him to leave the shelter of the

kitchen.

He had no choice.

Walking down the hall, he opened his bedroom door and crossed the threshold.

Caitlin was there, lying asleep in his bed.

A thin sheet covered her body, clinging to the outline.

It was highlighted by silvery strands that descended from the moon, caressing her like long gossamer fingers.

Desires tugged at him, fierce in their demands.

Calling for tribute.

It would have taken him so little to give in.

Just one more time.

But one more time would feed into another and another, pushing him into an emotional quagmire that he wouldn't be able to pull himself free of.

He hesitated just inside the doorway, struggling against a temptation so fierce it took his breath away.

Behind him he heard his mother's door close.

It made his decision for him.

Graham withdrew from the room.

Caitlin watched him through slitted eyes, waiting.

Hoping.

But then the door closed again and she was alone.

As she had been all night.

The Highland Street courthouse was a shining example of modern

architecture.

All tinted glass and girders, it maximized the benefits of the

perpetual Phoenix sun by taking out its sting and filtering what remained into the building.

The offices were awash in light.

The corridors, however, were boxed in by walls and closed doors,

gaining their illumination from fluorescent lighting discreetly hidden