Never surrender to you're passions. Dream and live to excess.

At some point in the night she had a dream. Or it was possible that she was partially awake, and was only remembering a dream? She was alone among the rocks on a dark coast beside the sea. The water surged upward and fell back languidly, and in the distance she heard surf breaking slowly on a sandy shore. It was comforting to be this close to the surface of the ocean and gaze at the intimate nocturnal details of its swelling and ebbing. And as she listened to the faraway breakers rolling up onto the beach, she became aware of another sound entwined with the intermittent crash of waves: a vast horizontal whisper across the bossom of the sea, carrying an ever-repeated phrase, regular as a lighthouse flashing: Dawn will be breaking soon. She listened a long time: again and again the scarcely audible words were whispered across the moving water. A great weight was being lifted slowly from her; little by little her happiness became more complete, and she awoke. Then she lay for a few minutes marveling the dream, and once again fell asleep.

Today well lived makes every yesterday a dream of happiness and every tomorrow a vision of hope. Look well therefore to this day.

I have a proposition for you,_ she said, trying for a businesslike tone. __ very sensible one. You see__ She paused to clear her throat. ____e been thinking about your problem._ __hat problem?_ Cam played lightly with the folds of her skirts, watching her face ale

One never knows what fate has in store._ Turning toward Rohan, Amelia discovered he was glancing over her in a slow inventory that spurred her heart into a faster beat. __ don__ believe in fate,_ she said. __eople are in control of their own destinies._ Rohan smiled. __veryone, even the gods, are helpless in the hands of fate._ Amelia regarded him skeptically. __urely you, being employed at a gaming club, know all about probability and odds. Which means you can__ rationally give credence to luck or fate or anything of the sort._ __ know all about probability and odds,_ Rohan agreed. __evertheless, I believe in luck._ He smiled with a quiet smolder in his eyes that caused her breath to catch. __ believe in magic and mystery, and dreams that reveal the future. And I believe some things are written in the stars _ or even in the palm of your hand._ Mesmerized, Amelia was unable to look away from him. He was an extraordinarily beautiful man, his skin as dark as clover honey, his black hair falling over his forehead in a way that made her fingers twitch with the urge to push it back. __o you believe in fate too?_ she asked Merripen. A long hesitation. ____ a Roma,_ he said. Which meant yes. __ood Lord, Merripen. I__e always thought of you as a sensible man._ Rohan laughed. __t__ only sensible to allow for the possibility, Miss Hathaway. Just because you can__ see or feel something doesn__ mean it can__ exist.

His eyes were above hers, and she saw that the golden-hazel irises were rimmed with black. __iss Hathaway _ you__e quite certain fate had no hand in our meeting tonight?_ She couldn__ seem to breathe properly. __u-quite certain._ His head bent low. __nd in all likelihood we__l never meet again?_ __ever._ He was too large, too close. Nervously Amelia tried to marshal her thoughts, but they scattered like spilled matchsticks _ and then he set fire to them as his breath touched her cheek. __ hope you__e right. God help me if I should ever have to face the consequences._ __f what?_ Her voice was faint. __his._ His hand slid to the back of her neck and his mouth covered hers.