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afraid of dying in such a painful way. Gabriel had seen to it that the sun could harm her again.
    "It was not intentional, sweetheart."
    "But the result is the same."
    Brice was waiting for her, leaning against the wall just outside the door. "So, could you help her?"
    "I hope so." Francesca was noncommittal even though she knew very well the child would recover fully. "Please do me the courtesy of not mentioning me to anyone. Really, Brice, we had an agreement. I can't afford to have people knocking down my door expecting miracles. Give her a day or two before you perform any tests on her. You know I hate publicity. You take the credit if it works."
    He fell into step beside her. "I'm off. Would you like to have breakfast? A little thank you for staying up all night for one of my patients."
    Francesca pushed back the heavy fall of her blue-black hair. "I'm tired, Brice. You know it always wears me out."
    "If I knew what you did, maybe I could help and you wouldn't get so tired," he teased. "You walked here, didn't you? Come on, I'll give you a ride home." He took her arm and led her to his car.
    Francesca went willingly. It would only take minutes to get home by car, and she was exhausted. Settling into the leather seat, she snapped her seat belt in place automatically and smiled up at him. "You do like your luxury, Brice."
    "Nothing wrong with that. I know what I want and I go after it." His dark eyes moved over her suggestively.
    "Don't start," she cautioned, a laugh in her voice. "What is it with you, Brice? I've told you over and over we can't see each other."
    "We see each other every day, Francesca," he pointed out with a grin. "We do quite well seeing each other."
    "I'm too tired to argue with you. Just take me home and be nice."
    "What did you do with the old man? You've got to quit picking people up off the street, Francesca. That's why you need me. You're too nice for your own good. Sooner or later you're going to pick up an ax murderer."
    "I don't think there's much danger of that." Francesca watched out the window as her house loomed large at the end of the driveway.
    "He isn't in your house, is he?" Brice asked suspiciously as he parked the car and threw his seat belt off.
    She flashed him a quick smile. "I take it you think I'm going to invite you in."
    Brice rushed around the car to open her door. "I'm definitely going in. I don't want to find out you've got that flea-bitten old man in there. It would be so like you."
    As if on cue, the front door suddenly opened and Gabriel's large frame filled the doorway. He certainly didn't look like a flea-bitten old man. Francesca felt the color drain from her face and her heart definitely somersaulted. She glanced uneasily at Brice. Gabriel looked invincible, a predator. He looked capable of eating Brice alive. He stood tall and elegant, his sensual features carefully expressionless. Gabriel looked like a dark prince of old; the power in him was so obvious it clung like a second skin. He was incredibly handsome and she couldn't help noticing despite her resolve not to do so.
    Brice effectively stopped her by grabbing her arm and holding her still. "Who the hell is that?" He actually thrust Francesca behind him protectively.
    The gesture was so sweet it brought a lump to her throat. No one had ever been so protective and attentive to her as Brice. No matter how often she rebuffed him, Brice was determined in his pursuit of her.
    Gabriel came down the stairs. Glided. Flowed. He moved with the grace of a large jungle cat, powerful muscles rippling beneath the thin silk of his shirt. "Thank you so much for bringing her home. I was beginning to worry," Gabriel said smoothly. His voice was velvet soft, gentle, impossible to ignore. It paved the way for whatever compulsion he chose to implant in his listener's mind.
    Gabriel moved right up to Francesca, ignoring her little feminine retreat. His hand closed over her wrist, drew her beneath his wide shoulder. "You stayed out all