[ Late February, 2002 ]

ANN

Just that morning, I had grumbled to Terry over the phone that I hated the cold. He thought that was just a complaint. It wasn't.

I missed him.

I missed the warmth of him. I missed his presence. I missed how everything always seemed fine and manageable when he was with me. I missed him.

God, but I am getting so sappy.

Then again ... I really did hate the cold. Washington in February was dirty snow that's pitiful evidence of smog from car exhaust, sludgy mush that hid icy patches to send you sliding, and wind that whipped snowflakes into one more snowfall that I hated. I longed for home and the way we'd be preparing for Mardi Gras.

"Ah, for fuck's sake," I griped as ice water slushed over the short boots I'd had the audacity to wear ... boots I'd worn because I was so sure that by this point in the winter every sidewalk would be shoveled. Of course, the one path I took to our townhouse's front door from the Metro was clear right up until I crossed the street in front of that door and I stepped right into a puddle of sludgy ice.

I was shivering from the way that felt ... that rude shock of ice water inside the boot ... trying to shake it off when I saw this body at my front door. This man ... just standing there watching me coming up the two steps to the first landing and I just knew, he'd heard me curse. I really did have to learn not to curse like I was still at the newspaper.

"Can I help you?" I asked him and then he turned his eyes full on me and I nearly fell backwards.

So like Terry's eyes that I thought I was seeing things. 

He reached a big hand out and caught my arm. "Forgive me, mistress, if I have startled you," this voice said. Not Terry's accent or really his voice ... but something there so reminiscent. "I was seeking Terry Thorne."

I am always cautious. It's inbred in me from years on the police beat but living with Terry has rubbed off on me, too ... for Terry is ever vigilant and never takes things for granted. So I looked the guy over and saw ... similarities to Terry. Enough that I began having a suspicion that this might be one of the three brothers that Terry's told me about.

"And you are?" I asked, striving for firmness but not bitchiness just in case it was a relative.

"My name is Max North. I am Terry's brother."

"Ah! The elder brother!" I chortled in relief and was met with this frown. "Sorry! That's how I think of you. Terry has talked about you but we've never met. I'm Ann. I'm Terry's fr ... er ... his wife."

God. I grinned at him but it was because I suddenly heard myself say that. I was more used to saying I was Terry's friend but now I was more than that. I was his wife. I liked it. It was still so new. Only two weeks.

We did the normal pleasantries ... those awkward words you are so pleased someone invented to help get you past this moment of first meeting and then not knowing what to say. I invited him in, told him Terry was out of town, that he'd be sorry he missed him.

He followed me in but stayed by the front door. I noticed he had a leather flight bag with him. I rather assumed that, like most family, he was used to staying with Terry whenever he was in town. I knew Max had some government security job in England; I guessed they probably saw each other rather frequently when Terry was in London ... which he hadn't been to in a while because he'd been rather involved over the past few months in seducing a woman he was going to marry.

It still seemed so odd. Married!

Okay, so I told Max, you must stay here like you must normally do when Terry's been in town before when you come in ... the guest bedroom  ... only he hesitated and told me that perhaps this wasn't very proper of him to stay like this.

I blinked at him and took in his formal, stiff stance. "Oh! You mean because I'm here alone? Oh, gosh. Don't stand on ceremony with me, Max. We're related now. Right? Besides, it'll be nice having someone else around to talk with. Look, you put your stuff up, let me get into something dry and we can walk around the corner to a restaurant for dinner. How's that?"

Something about the way he regarded me told me that he wasn't necessarily ready for the bit of Southern hospitality that I turned on like second nature ... I told him my family would disown me if I let him even think of staying in a hotel while he was visiting. And I meant it. We just don't do things like that.

An hour later, we trudged back out into the cold and braced the winter. If I'd known he was coming, I might have been prepared enough to cook something but I'd not made a trip to the market since Terry had left. Just didn't seem worth it.

At the little Italian restaurant near us, we settled across from each other in the booths. I smiled pleasantly at him and chirped off the things on the menu that I could recommend. I was then at a loss for conversation.

We kind of each fidgeted. Then I asked him what brought him to DC and how sorry Terry would be that he'd missed him. We spent a lot of time talking about Terry ... we both agreed what a fine man he was.

Max said something to the effect that he was sorry he'd not made the wedding. I grinned and told him about it. The island. The romance. The way it had felt to be swept off like that. How I had rather enjoyed that it had just been us. Then blushed to realize I'd probably offended him so I tried to recover but he looked at me with this stern face and I just shut up.

Another subject, then, I thought.

So I started asking him about him. He was a difficult subject. He didn't give much away. I tried to cajole him, even flirted harmlessly and giggled shamelessly at any attempt at humor on his part. He relaxed a bit and I thought that perhaps he was enjoying having a woman fawn on him. So I fawned some more.

Finally, I asked about his wife and new daughter. How happy Terry and Dino had been at the news. Hoped they were both doing well. He might have been even more closed mouth about them than about himself.

Okay, then. New subject.

Asked about London. Feigned undiluted interest in his every word. Asked about politics, he shut down. Switched to sports; he talked of cricket and I pretended to be fascinated.

New subject.

Family. Asked about their other brothers ... asked how Lachlan and Bud were ... about their families ... he was reticent. The barest of information.

Then he asked me about me. Damn. I'm as bad as him. About all I told him was: I now work for a magazine doing political profiles. He asked about my family, so I gave him the sanitized version. He asked how Terry and I had met and I said, on the job. Along about here, I got the distinct impression that I was under inspection. That he had some mental list of questions he was checking off, trying to find out about who I was.

This made me relax and get into a better mood. Okay, I can deal with this. Terry's big brother comes to town, thinks he's going to be seeing Terry, but instead of having Terry around to help, he's stuck with just me. And he's just not sure what to say yet because we're really strangers. We have no history, Max and me. So this is how you do it.

By the time we were blasting back into the townhouse, I was feeling rather comfy with this notion. He just wanted to get to know me a bit and if Terry had been there, it would have been so much easier. But he wasn't. So it was up to me to make sure Max was at ease and got a good impression of the new wife. Right?

So I got us each a nightcap ... snifter of cognac ... and we sat in the living room and pretended to be comfortable in this setting. I began talking about Terry, about the person he was with me.

And then there was this pause in the conversation. It was the oddest thing. Max had been unfailingly polite most of the night, even if he did seem to soften and get rather animated a bit at dinner when I fawned on him ... but I happened to glance at him during this silence and he seemed to suddenly draw himself up. It was almost intimidating. I sat there wondering what bad news was about to come out of his mouth. I was never prepared for what he did say, however.

"Terry will have mentioned this to you, no doubt, but I hope you understand the need for the rules," he said, looking at me firmly.

"Rules? I don't understand."

"For instance, Terry would surely not approve of your familiar manner with me this evening in the restaurant."

"Excuse me?"

"We are quite careful about the manner of woman we allow into this family. I had hoped he would have followed our prescribed process of gaining permission for your inclusion within our circle, but as he has not ... we will make do in this method then."

"Max, I don't have a clue as to what you're saying. Wanna explain? I mean, since when does Terry need your permission on who he marries? And who the fuck are you to even come here in our home and talk like this?"

"I am charged with this duty." He gave me this glare. "You will speak to me with a more civil and feminine tongue, Ann."

"What?" I just whispered it out, a bit shocked, wondering if I'd just stepped into some Wonderland rabbit's hole.

"Let me begin by ascribing the rules to which the Premiers must abide by. We will proceed from there to the men's roles."

I just sat there looking at him. Wondering what the fuck was happening. And wishing that Terry had told me his brother was a crackpot.

So he goes through this strange and totally unbelievable litany of things the women ... the wives, I suppose ... as he called them, the Premiers ... could and couldn't do ... how they must stay faithful, how they were there to service the men, how their duty was to procreate, how they were to maintain silence about all family matters ... And then he starts in on the men ... the brothers ... how they were to take a woman unto them whom the top brother ... meaning Max ... would approve ... how they would be expected to be discrete so as to not raise their public profile ... how they could take other women, including those belonging to their brothers with prior approval, but must be sure to be careful in whom they chose in this secondary role ... how their first allegiance was to the family ... how they helped each other and helped the new brothers come into this world ...

Oh, there was more. But my mind rather stopped functioning at the bit about the men being able to screw around.

I finally put up my hand and he stopped instantly. I looked right in his eyes. My voice probably sounded a hell of a lot more amused than I was. "Let me get this straight. You honestly expect me to believe that you and your brothers think you have some kind of right to mess around on your wives? I mean, do the other wives put up with this? Is that why you're here? To let me know you boys feel you can say it and it's so? Like, Max, you could fuck around with me? Is that why you're really here - because you think it's your right?"

He shifted in his seat and raised his chin, narrowed his eyes at me. His entire body seemed to shift into didactic mode. "It would depend what kind of woman you are..."

This was where I made my stand. He was either crazy as hell or I was just now finding out I was involved in something really weird. Or maybe this was a test? Some kind of family initiation? I voted for Max as the nut case of the year. Whatever ... I was offended and didn't mind him knowing that I was no pushover.

"Well, it seems to me you've already decided what kind of woman I am. The kind who needs rules to keep her in place while the man she's married to gets to go out and fuck around."

"That is not exactly what I said- you are twisting my words ..."

"You think? Then what was that shit about you boys being free to take other women including the women of your brothers? Was that like some kind of come on? Am I supposed to be fooled by that?"

"I was merely pointing out what is blatantly obvious- a man is different from a woman and knows the boundaries," he snapped back, his body language and voice conveying one message - he was the man and I would obey.

God. That's the right tack to take with me. Right. "Ah, so the real problem is that some of the wifies in your little clan can't keep their wedding vows? And how many of your brothers have fucked your woman? Have they found their way around that particular boundary yet? And do you really think you can waltz in here and instruct me on my ability to remain faithful? And these rules? Who the fuck wrote them? Boys in junior high?"

His voice got deathly cold and I knew I'd crossed a line with him. Fuck it. Who cared? He was so far over my line that I could no longer see him. But he started in on me, dictating to me ... and dammit all, but he actually scared me a bit ... the way the words rolled off his tongue like he really believed them. Like he thought if he said them firmly enough, I would knuckle under.

"The rules are the natural order. Women cleave to their husband. Men may scatter their seed. None of the wives, as you so crudely say, behave in that way. And if I find one who does- then she will not stay part of this family for long..."

I took in this sharp breath and just could not believe what was happening. How had we gotten so quickly into something so bizarre and inflammatory when it seemed like just minutes ago we'd been chatting away like nice people? But to hear him say that ... I wasn't sure how to stop my heart's crazy beating.

My quiet but firm voice and I hoped he stopped right there: "I married Terry. Not you. Not any of his brothers. I am not a part of whatever the hell you've conned these other wives into agreeing to, Max. You worry about your wife fucking around on you and let Terry worry about me."

He went to open his mouth but I put a hand up and rose to try to end the conversation. "And for your information, Terry took the same vows I did when we married. We will remain faithful to each other. This bullshit about the boys being allowed to spread their seed? You wish. Not in this house."

"Try and stop nature, Ann- you can no more do that than restrain a speeding horse." I felt like I'd been slapped, his voice was that cruel and cutting.

I struck out in response. "I'm sorry that your wife isn't woman enough for you, Max."

His eyes dropped away from mine and then slowly rose to my face. There was a quiet ferocity in his voice and a new light in those eyes. I actually think I saw steam rising from him and it rather made me feel good to have zinged him so well. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me. If you're fucking around on her, that's her problem. But if you were married to me, you'd have no need and I sure as hell wouldn't stand for it."

"My wife is of no concern to you- leave her out of this."

"Then you get the hell out of my marriage and we'll get along a lot better."

"Then we understand each other."

"Do we? So you know exactly which hole you're going to stick those rules up yourself, Max?"

"I warn you- this is a very serious matter and we expect you to guard our privacy at all costs. Do not let us down. Do not let your husband down."

I drew myself up to my full, unimpressive height and glared at him. "Terry is my first priority. I would never let him down. Who do you think you are to come in here to lecture me on that? You don't even know me. Don't you think it's rather ludicrous -- this talk of your little clan? Terry would have told me all this if it was true. I think you're just trying to yank my chain, Max. You have a fucking odd sense of humor."

He rose before me and smiled at me. This superior grin that told me I was in trouble and about to find out something bad. "He hasn't told you? I wonder why?"

"Because it's not true, that's why. In fact, I should call him right now and tell him what you're trying to pull over me."

"You don't have to bother, Ann. I have the necessary marital contract with me and it lists the prescribed rules and conventions to which you will be expected to adhere and swear to. Like the other Premiers."

I stood there as he walked down the hall to the guestroom and then I watched him return. I was shaking my head at him and yet I still reached out a hand to take the proffered paper from him. This was how I found out. The brutal truth. I was involved in something so wild, so outrageous, so mad ... oh God. I felt like the rug of my life had just been yanked out from under me. I sat down on the couch with a thud and just stared at the document and tried to remember to breathe.

Could it be true? Was it a hoax? Oh how I hoped it was but damn, I knew it wasn't. How could Terry have done this to me, I kept asking myself. Did he leave to go out of town just to allow Max to come in and give me this ultimatum? Sign the contract or what I had thought I had with Terry was null and void? Accept that Terry was not the man I thought he was because the Terry I loved would never do something like this to me?

I looked up at Max ... at the way he looked at me ... like I had pushed him too far. And in my mind, I got this flash on Terry ... if he'd been there with me, I would have killed him for this. That he was trying to force this on me without letting me decide for myself.

My face must have shown my shock and revulsion ... for sure my hands were shaking violently and I was gulping in air to keep from crying in front of Max. He sat down next to me and his entire mood seemed to shift in response to how he must have realized what his words had done to me. Even angry at what he must have seen as my insolence, he seemed to sincerely regret being the one to upset me so.

"I'm sorry...I did not mean to thrust this knowledge upon you- I thought you knew."

I sat there, my body and mind feeling shut down in shock, as Max began telling me of this clan, this group of brothers. How they started, how they've grown, how they've worked to protect what's theirs. But I was so hurt and angry with Terry... just couldn't focus on Max's words in that moment ... I felt my head nodding at what seemed appropriate intervals but I felt out of touch with reality.

When he stopped, silence loomed around us. Max's voice, gentle and careful, trying to figure out something ... anything ... that might lessen the blow of all this: "He should have told you...we are so protective of this curious world of ours ... there have been some dangerous moments. We have wives and children all at risk if some malicious force should wish to expose us. Let me try and explain..."

And then he started this measured explanation of their rules. 

By the end of his recitation, he had begun this flustery bit of justification for the rules that seemed to have caused me the most trouble. For the one that allowed the men to roam, he blurted out, "We do not actively encourage the men to betray their wives, Ann. But we are rational men ... some will but they must keep it well out of sight. A dog never soils his own den. Our women are precious to us and must not be harmed by scandal or the flaunting of their men's weakness. It was meant to protect you all."

My mind rebelled at his reasoning but at least in this second rendition, it was some odd relief that there had been some rationale, however convoluted and out of date, to what these men thought they could set up as rules for them and their women to live by. Not that it was ever something I would have entertained, mind you. Me? Being dictated to by men?

Still, Max seemed so genuinely concerned for my feelings all of a sudden. And he seemed so sincere in his beliefs. And he didn't really seem malicious in what he felt. And I felt like I always do when I'm dealing with someone I like as a person but can see that I do not prescribe to their notions of morality or spirituality - I am respectful of their beliefs and refuse to challenge them unless they invite discussion. Max was not inviting discussion with me.

When he finished, I swallowed hard and gave him a soft nod. Then turned to where he sat next to me on the couch and looked hard into his eyes. Trying to find an answer there. But I didn't see one. I rose to go get a drink ... I needed a stiff belt of something ... part way across the room, I turned back to him and didn't even try to hide my tears.

"Why would he have kept something like this from me, Max? Is everything we have built on a lie?"

He smiled sadly at my reaction, and came to where I stood. "I don't know," he said softly. "He must have his reasons. He is a loner and goes his own way. But you need to discuss this with him."

He reached out to wipe my tears away but that simple gesture made me cry harder. And then his big arms gathered me into a soft, comforting hug.

I sniffed and began to regain my equilibrium. I was embarrassed ... to have been standing there crying to Terry's brother over something that was Terry's fault and to have also been such a bitch to Max. "I'm sorry I was so hateful to you, Max. I just ... I'm sorry -- you just got caught in the position of bearing the bad tidings, I suppose."

"My shoulders are broad enough to take the strain," he told me and I looked up to find him smiling at me, almost paternalistic. "Remember I have a wife, too, and she is no slave to all this. She has her own opinions and is more than willing to give me the sharp edge of her tongue."

"Did you tell her before you married, though? I mean, I bet you gave her the option, right? Terry should have told me because I might not have ... you know? I might have decided that I didn't want to ..."

"She always knew ... well, not at first but as soon as I knew that we were becoming close. And it was hard for her to accept but we talked and she came to understand." He gave me this little grin and I noted how his eyes seemed to catch the sparkle. He looked so boyish that I realized he was charming me hook, line and sinker. "Her first reaction was to throw me out. But I crawled back and she took me in...fortunately..."

I found myself smiling back at him ... and saying, with sincerity and feeling, "I doubt any woman would have ever thrown out a man such as you. Now, Terry on the other hand, might find that fate awaits him upon his return."

He shook his head at me. "Give him a chance. I would not like to see anything bad happen to you both. If I have any right to an opinion...he is a fortunate man and you are a welcome addition to our family."

Why did this touch me so deeply? In the confusion of this night, why was it that this man's unexpected remark somehow felt like the highest form of approval? Not that I wanted his approval, but I sensed it was genuine and that gave it such an impact.

"I appreciate the compliment, Max," I whispered to him. "But I honestly don't know if I can take this. But that's not your problem so I don't want you to worry about it."

"If you need to talk .... I will answer any question you have, you do know that. Anytime. Just call me?"

His hand gently swept a stray hair behind my ear and I rubbed my hand up and down his back in this gesture of friendship. But somehow, in this moment of each of us touching the other, we must have both realized just how close we were. We were just standing there, still in this light embrace that had started as a moment of Max comforting me ... but I suddenly knew we were too close. So very close to a kiss.

We seemed to realize it at the same moment. We both jumped away ... I was shocked ... it had felt like something inside him was just pulling at me ... edging me to want him ... and that is so very 'not me.'

No other man on the earth could have ever attracted me when I had Terry. He was everything I'd ever wanted and so much more.

It had felt almost instinctive. And that feeling ... how it lingered ... how it made me nervous to even be near Max suddenly. As much as that added to my confusion, I could tell ... Max had felt whatever it was, too. He too seemed genuinely shocked.

By some sort of mutual understanding, we made our regretful declarations that we must hit the sack. I almost ran to my room and shut the door. Inside, I walked the bedroom and felt my heart's beating calm the longer I was in there. But once it calmed down from that close call with Max, it started revving up from anger at Terry. Anger and ... hurt. God.

I called his cell ... a woman answered. It flashed instantly in my mind ... he was with another woman! There were noises in the background ... a party? A bar? An orgy? I asked for Terry. I didn't hear anything and knew she was covering the phone. Was he there? Was she asking if he wanted to be disturbed? Were they ... was he cheating on me? Was he thinking it was okay since Max was there laying the rules out for me?

And then she's back on the line and I hear people laughing in the background. "He's on the job...he'll call you later, honey."

I choked the words out. "Tell him to call his wife."

She giggled at me. "Sure thing, honey. Don't expect him anytime soon, though."

I stood there with the phone in my hand and seethed. Two weeks out of marrying me and he sends his elder brother out to do his dirty work and he's cheating on me like I've just got to accept it? Oh God.

The phone rang. "Where are you?" I asked him.

"Out. With Dino. We're in a bar with clients. Hold on, Annie. Let me go somewhere so I can hear you."

When he came back on, the noise was muffled. I pictured him standing outside some whorehouse, talking to the little wife. "Who was that woman who answered the phone?"

"Barmaid. Why? What's this? You upset? Jesus, Annie, I was having a piss! Give me a fucking break. What you think I'm up to?"

"Yeah? You leave your cell with the barmaid now? What if it had been business? I am a helpless kidnap victim who can't be rescued because the white knight is otherwise engaged? Thought you were always on call? But hey, don't worry, because old Maxie's here and he's told me the rules and such so it looks like all's well with your world."

He didn't respond for a few moments. So I hung up on him. And threw the phone across the room and watched with satisfaction as it shattered after hitting the wall.

So this is how it is, I thought. He's got carte blanche to cat around on me and he's out in a nightclub with women doing it.

Fuck that. I thought about this ... and thought about marching down the hall and knocking on the guestroom door and taking Max for a ride. Why not, I thought. We both felt it ... there was an attraction. And he's so fucking doable. Why not? It's permissible under their rules, eh?

Oh God. How could I even think that way? I didn't want any other man ... I only wanted Terry. What was I going to do? I couldn't take a marriage that included a man wanting to step out on me. And Terry knew this ... he knew about my first marriage ... he knew how important this issue was to me ... that I didn't want to be married to someone who didn't have it in him to be faithful.

"Who am I kidding," I muttered to myself as I caught my reflection in the mirror over my vanity. "It's not the cheating, you bimbo. That is so fucking minor compared to him hiding all this crap about his clan and these rules and ... my God! Has he told me anything about his past that's true?"

What a night. I kept thinking all night how this was so much like dropping down the rabbit hole. I kept thinking I'd wake up and find out I'd just had the wildest dream. But every time I woke up, I knew my world was now so screwed up.

And then I had wild dreams ... I'd drop off amidst the tossing and turning and my dreams were short and abrupt. Except one. God. I woke up sweating from that one and just laid there looking at the ceiling, feeling the way my entire body had gotten involved in that dream.

Where had it come from? What recess of my mind had hidden that desire? And why did it take Max to drive it out into the open?

I'd dreamed us together ... yes, that way. In this sheltered gazebo. We'd both been nude ... I could almost taste the misty humidity of my home state. Max had been taking me from behind and I'd been coming and then ... God. He'd been magnificent in that dream and as I lay there after with the covers tossed back and my hand between my legs without even realizing it, all I could do was drift over the fact that it was more than my subconscious that wondered if he'd be like that.

And then I thought of Terry and wondered if he knew how bad my life had become? He hadn't even bothered to try to call me back the night before. He had to have had some clue that I was not going to accept this.

It was too early to be up but I climbed out of bed and took a shower anyway. When dawn broke, I was watching for the paper delivery guy from the front window. I sat in the kitchen reading the paper until I heard Max stirring in the guestroom. By the time he emerged, I was puttering in the kitchen ... coffee brewing, bread in the toaster, eggs ready for cooking. He must not have realized I was up ... he came strolling in, this firm but rolling gait that was so different than his rather formal and precise stance of the night before ... wearing slacks and buttoning up his shirt.

"Morning," I muttered and yanked my eyes away from checking out his groin. Gave him a weak smile and poured him a cup of coffee. "Care for some breakfast, Max?"

He gave me polite thanks and then seemed to search for something to say as he stepped up close to take the proffered cup from my hands. "Did you sleep well?" he asked in a voice that seemed almost too soft in its concern for me.

I got this instant memory of the dream ... him nude ... me captured inside his arms ... the things we were doing.

A wave of extreme embarrassment for my thoughts swept over me.

Startled breath in at how it felt to remember this dream in the fullness of the day and with him standing right there before me. Our eyes met and I know he had to see the blush lighting up my face.

The moment lingered too long. Like he could read my thoughts and didn't find the idea that unattractive. Like maybe he'd had some thoughts of me that were similarly inappropriate.

And then the door opened and a blast of reality came sweeping in with the shock of winter weather.

TERRY

My own fault. All of it. And I knew it from the moment I heard those words from her mouth ... that Max was there with her and that comment about him telling her the rules.

I'd put off telling her until it got to the point where I honestly believed I wouldn't need to tell her. Not for a long time. Not until we were so settled together that it wouldn't mean anything to her more than it did to me. Not until we could laugh about it. Not until I knew she'd stay anyway.

I knew there would be repercussions from the choice I'd made to ignore this shit about getting permission for marriage from Max and the boys. Right. I didn't need their fucking seal of approval for the woman I chose. This was between me and her.

Thought Max had taken it pretty good when I'd called him to tell him I was married. He reminded me of the rule about him having to approve her admission to the family and I'd told him it was a done deal now.

Would never have imagined that Max would go behind my back like this. Sneak in and dump this shit on Annie. I could imagine what she'd thought ... what I'd think if someone told me this out of the blue ... she'd think we were crazy, she'd rebel at the notion of rules like that, she'd hate me for not telling her about all of this.

I could hear all that in her voice. She tried to cover it behind her anger ... but I knew she was hurting and I also knew the chances were she might find this unforgivable. And fuck all if it didn't make it so much better that fucking Dino lets the barmaid answer my cell while I'm in taking a piss. I came damn near punching him when I went back in the bar except he was the one who shoved me in a cab and sent me to the airport. Told me that I better get home and stop Annie before she did something rash.

Had to wait at the airport for four hours before the first flight to DC. I must have looked like I felt ... like I'd like to strangle someone ... because people sure moved out of my way. And the cabbie barely uttered two words on the drive home.

Raced into the house only to find ... not exactly the scene I expected. They were standing there in the kitchen. I could see them as soon as I walked in. Annie standing there in full blush and Max hovering over her. Like I'd just interrupted something.

"Very nice. Cozy. What the fuck you doing in my house?" I launched in on Max immediately, pissed as hell and determined to take control of this situation.

Max jumped away from her like he'd been caught taking advantage.

"Outside- I want a word with you, you prick," I told him. Ann's mouth opened, I saw that fire in her eyes, knew what was coming and I was not in the mood for it. "Keep out of this, Ann- this is me and him."

Opened the back door and motioned to Max. He stepped out there with me and I saw his entire demeanor shift. This mask he puts on to show he's ready for anything but would never give anything away to an enemy. When had we become enemies?

Faced him square up. "Okay ... let me hear this from your mouth ... what are you doing visiting MY wife when I'm away?"

"I have the right. You got married and told no one. I owed it to the others to make my own mind up. I did not know you were out of town."

"That's alright then. First night rights, hey, Max? That how it worked in your day? General gets the pick of the officers' wives?"

"Don't be ridiculous. This was purely precautionary."

"Crap. Who the fuck you think you are to me? I don't owe you shit. So you told her about your fucking rules, did ya? Thanks a bundle. Now she thinks I've been fucking around like a rabbit when I'm not with her."

"Why didn't you tell her about us? She should have known from the outset."

"Don't you fucking tell me what to do. I didn't tell her because she doesn't need to know. She's not part of that boys' club of yours. She wouldn't understand and she wouldn't approve- not sure I do."

"So when were you going to enlighten her? The next gathering? 'Meet my brothers.' Don't you think she deserved a warning?"

"Let me tell you something, mate. I don't fucking care if she ever meets that bunch of freaks. OK? This is my life and I make my own decisions - not them- not you- not Russell fucking Crowe. Got that? And can I ask you a question? When do I get to try your bird out? Make sure she knows how to treat a brother right? Heard she's a bit of a looker. Maybe I'll give her a once over next time I'm in London seeing as you never bring her to one of our little get-togethers...why not? Worried? Think she might give you the old heave ho if she meets a real man?"

His jaw worked into a tightness I might never have seen with him before. Knew I'd struck pay dirt. Had to press it. "Can't imagine the art of love was ever very high on your list of required reading. Ever even found the g-spot, Max?"

Oh, yeah. Definitely hit the mark with that one. Saw this tic around his eyes. He was wondering if maybe there are things that he doesn't know that modern men do about women. Loved doing that to him ... picking at his insecurity.

He turned as if he was walking away but in this move so fast I barely saw it coming, he had me up against the wall by the throat.

"Never refer to my wife like that again. Do you hear me? Never!" he grated out to me before he shrugged me off.

Gave him a grin. Knowing I had him right where I had wanted him. "Book shop. They give self-help guides. You should buy one..."

We both knew the score then. This round was mine. No more words would ever be needed. He walked in the house and I followed. He muttered something to me about catching a plane and I barely gave him a grunt. I had other things on my mind by then.

I found her in our bedroom.

ANN

The world seemed to go from slo-mo to extra fast speed in the flicker of time it took for Terry to meet my eyes. I read him well that morning. He wasn't the least sorry. He was only angry that Max had come in to tell me. That's all I knew ... he hadn't known Max was coming there and that's what he was really upset about.

He didn't give a fuck what the news had done to me. I was just 'the wife' right? And he gives me this dismissive thing to keep my mouth shut while the men deal with this? Great demonstration of their 'rules' in action.

Fuck that.

The moment they left the house, I was in the bedroom pulling suitcases out and tossing them onto the bed. At first, I was going to pack up whatever I could and walk out on his ass. And then I thought, wait, why should I be the one to leave? He's the one who fucked it up. He's the one who leaves. So I started ripping through the closet, tearing his clothes off hangars and tossing them into open suitcases. Started going through his bureau ... same thing ... heaps of his clothes jumbled in suitcases.

Cursing. Muttering. Black fury. Reacting instantly to do something about it. Something definite and defining. He really thought I'd let him get away with it?

And then I suddenly realized ... got this visual ... knew I'd packed this one sweater of mine in with his crap ... I could see it in my mind's eye ... that blue-black sweater he bought me because it was warm and clingy ... it had been hanging right next to his shirts ... and I looked in the closet and couldn't see it ...

I went tearing back through the suitcases, digging in the jumbled mess, trying to find it. But in my fury, I was so unable to focus on a real search. So I started simply ripping through the mess, dragging clothes out of suitcases and tossing them on the floor as I tried to find the sweater.

Cursing now louder as the heap of his clothing around my ankles grew and I still couldn't find my sweater. Choking back tears I did not want to own just then.

Didn't know he was there ... that he was witnessing me losing control ...  then seeing him standing there in the doorway, closing it behind him like he thought there was something he really could ever say that would keep us together ... him knowing I didn't want his elder brother hearing this happening between us ...

I just stood there with his clothes in my hands and started crying.

"Come on, Ann... don't be like this...I'm just pissed with that arrogant wanker... he had no right....you know that..." Moving toward me, getting this look in his eyes that I didn't want to see.

"Stay the fuck away from me. Just get your shit and get out." Throwing his clothes at him and just unable to hide how it felt to be where he'd put me in this. So eternally furious with myself that all I could do was sob the words out to him: "I changed my whole life for you. I trusted you and look what you've done to me."

"Annie, baby... I'm sorry... let me explain..."

Anger flashing out of control but as always ramping up with care for how I could wound. "Explain? Oh this should be so great. Explain how you lied to me, Terry ... because I believed you. I believed the vows we took."

He looked away from me and groaned. Rubbed at his hair, knowing this was something he'd never talk his way out of.  "I didn't tell you because I knew what it sounded like. It's fucking crazy- it is nothing to do with our lives. I just thought one day, when we were more settled, I would broach it ... I mean, we need never even see them. I hardly ever do. I keep myself to myself mostly. Apart from Dino."

Coldness creeping into me as his eyes finally met mine. "More settled? What's more settled than married? You know what I think? I think you figured if you got me married then I wouldn't walk out on you and you could just force these fucking rules down my throat. Well, fuck that, buddy boy. I'm not leaving. You are."

"The rules? That shit? I wouldn't tell you because I had no intention of ever expecting you to agree to them. They are an insult to you."

"You're so full of shit! He wants me to sign a fucking contract, Terry! He said I have to," I yelled at him.

"He can say what the fuck he likes. You are signing nothing and neither am I. He can stick it up his noble fucking Roman arse," he grated out to me and I knew I had just pushed him to a point where he was getting pissed at me for not giving in yet to his indomitable will. Turning from trying to be conciliatory into attacking me. "And tell you the rules? Tell me when would be a good day to discuss them? I mean- compared to most women you have permanent PMS- when exactly would I have been able to explain them and not have my balls severed?"

I took a step back, felt like he'd just punched me. I felt the breath go out of me and all I could do was give him this shocked, raw reaction: "You fucking bastard. That right? Then why the fuck did you ever marry me if I'm such a horrible woman?"

He saw and heard it. He could say things to me sometimes that would rip me apart and he had come to realize how it would never be something I'd shake off like he was able to do after his anger abated. I was backing away from him but he was moving faster and he was right there with his hands out, trying to touch me as I waved him off me.

Saying it to me ... soft, sincere, hushed at the way he knew he'd just wounded me, stuttering with his own emotions: "I didn't mean that ... I meant you are sensitive to woman's issue ... more than most ... that's what I meant ... it came out wrong- okay?"

God. I didn't even know what to do. And then he touched me ... tentative at first ... his hand touching around my forearm and when I stood there, too numb to move, he pressed in and slipped his arms around me. My face was in his chest. I could smell him. Feel him. Hear his heart against my ear. It was beating so fast and hard. His hands smoothed down my hair ... like he wasn't sure what to do that was right but he had to do something.

I felt his chest move as he gave me strong words: "Annie, I love you, that's all I know. I didn't know how to tell you because I thought you would run a mile and I wouldn't have blamed you ... I just was so damned scared that I would lose you..."

Honesty. Vulnerability. I knew it with a depth of my being. I could hear it in his voice and I could feel it in his body. I closed my eyes and felt my hands reach around him to stroke his back. His grip on me tightened.

"You're not going to lose me. There's no way I'd ever stop loving you." The words were out of my mouth and I'd only thought they were in my head ... but when he heard them, he moved with a sureness and a strength of purpose that confused me for the way it reassured me that he did love me.

Using his physicality to talk to me in a way he found it so hard to express with words. It was like being swept in this tidal wave of Terry ... a force of nature that always left me reeling in its wake and unable to fight. He moved hard into me, his hand on my jaw forcing my face up to receive a bruising kiss.

Muttering to me and devastating me: "Forgive me, Ann, please...believe me...let me love you..."

At first just kissing me and murmuring ... then touching me like he wanted to remind me that I belonged to him. I did not even stand a chance. He knew it, too. He knew his power over me. His arousal showed me that he had really been scared that I'd never get over this and now he just wanted me to respond ... to be helpless in the face of what I felt for him. So he was whispering to me of how much he needed me. And then simply pulling me down to the floor right atop the piles of his clothes that I'd been trying to shove into suitcases ... and ripping at my clothes in his haste to get at me ... to show me how he felt ...

And for some reason, I felt the release of my full emotional upheaval at the events of the night before ... I was crying and fighting him but not with any real conviction ... more as just the only response I had in me.

And his reaction. The man he so rarely showed me ... I wondered sometimes if he worried that seeing his reality would feel too raw and unsophisticated for me? But it didn't. It never did. When he'd lose control like this, it made me feel he trusted me so very much.

His hands captured my wrists and he leaned the weight of his bulk on me, rubbing his growing hardness against me ... letting me feel his dominance ... the roughness of his jeans somehow adding immeasurably to the way his hard cock strained to get at my softness as he moved it rudely over the sensitized nub ... leaving me this moaning shell of a woman.

Hungry. Both of us.

I clutched at him ... hating his clothes ... telling him to fuck me ... that I needed him.

His mouth covered mine as his hands tore and clawed to remove my bra ... the last remnant of clothing ... and then he was turning on his back, drawing my body over his ... his mouth trying to devour my breasts and I leaned over him and begged him.

Heard this guttural groan in response and he shoved my body up over him. I was scrambling on hands and knees just to keep balance as he lifted me and moved me, but he was so strong and he had total control of me. I had just gotten my hands on the ground under me when he pulled down on my hips and ... oh God ... his tongue swept hard into my folds and then he was grunting in satisfaction as he yanked my sex right into his mouth. I felt his jaw moving and his tongue searching and then he was sucking ...

Down on my elbows. Crying out to him. Knowing he was somewhere else and probably didn't even hear me. The sudden, blinding revelation of what I meant to him ... the way he showed me his determination that I know. And I did.

"Love you, Terry. Love you," muttering it over and over ... telling him what it felt like to be loved by him ... how he made me feel ... that no other man in the world could ever measure up to him.

And then coming ... wordless suddenly ... mouth wide open in shock at the force ... unable to deal with the intensity ... awed at how he could do this to me like this.

I was crying, this tired release of pain, as if in overload, and I felt his hands turn me on my back and he crawled over me ... cradling my body with his ... whispering in my ear.

My body needed his. My hands moved down to feel his hardness and found his hands fumbling with his buttons and zipper. "Love me, Terry," I whispered in such need.

And then seeing his face as he rolled over atop me. In his eyes, my world. My hands on his face to keep him as my focus. Feeling him come into me ... his mouth whispering words to me ... and then moving with him, unable to stop, unwilling to comply with anything but my own need.

Kissing me. Tongue so deep. Pumping into me. Not holding back. Breaking through a barrier in his own will to be with me as I needed him in this moment. Hands on me. Holding me as I came. Whispering encouragement that might have been obscene words except for the truth in them.

And then gripping hard around me as he started moving toward his own coming. I held on tight to him, whispered to him, moaned at him, moved with him. Giving him the shelter of my love and the volatility of my passion. Both of us crying as he came shuddering into me. Drying our eyes on each other's necks.

There we lay. Amidst the remains. Still together. For so long we were silent and our hands would caress the other in the need to keep touching and give solace.

"I don't know if I could make it without you," I whispered to him; so like me to give voice to my deepest fears only in a moment like this. "Promise me ... no more secrets or lies, Terry."

"I'd never willingly lie to you, you know that? I'll tell you everything ... right down the line... from day one." And then just telling me. This tale ... except I knew it wasn't a tale. I knew it was the truth. About his family ... his clan of brothers ... how they were created ... what he knew ... about their origins and backgrounds ... that the three he ever spoke of - Max, Lachlan, Bud - that they were the tip of the iceberg ... that Dino was also his brother but somehow in a different way ... confirming Max's version ... leaving me unsteady in the face of this new reality that I never knew so much of the important things in his life.

When I told him that, said it just plainly and without accusation, he said he felt like I knew the important things about him ... his heart, he said, only I knew it. God. The way that made me feel.

Turning on his side and leaning up on an elbow to look down into my eyes. His fingers playing with a strand of my hair. "This has been on my mind. I was going to tell you...but that bastard... did he upset you?"

It made me smile ... Terry going into protective mode ... but then I suddenly swallowed at the memory of the night before. "God, Terry, think how it felt to find that out ... not from you but from some stranger."

His mouth at my ear, this gentle shushing noise of comfort. And then taking a breath ... dredging up the remnants of his own anger at Max. "He won't let anyone near his wife ... who the fuck does he think he is?"

My hand touched at his face, smoothing down to his neck. Wanting to soften his anger at his brother. Giving him this little sigh. "He ended up being pretty decent about it, though I think my reaction was a bit of a shock to his system."

"Decent? Yeah, when he gets his own way...he's a cold hearted bastard."

"I don't know. He was pretty nice, all things considered. You should have heard what I told him."

Giving me that conspiratorial grin of his. I could see the light of his confidence coming back into him. "What did you say? Gave it to him with both barrels?"

"Rather. I don't think he's used to women like me," I said with a shrug.

His grin turning into this soft smile as his finger trailed over my lips and his eyes bored into mine. "There are no women like you, Ann. No one else even comes close."

I felt myself shake at the words. At the way he said them. I buried my face in his neck and pulled him in tight to me. Tried not to cry again. And then pushed him away, sassing him: "Ah, Terry, the things you say. No wonder I love you, you bastard. How dare you be this way?"

"Still love me, eh?" he teased me ... but his eyes were still searching mine for some little sign that all was not really right between us ... that maybe I was holding back a bit ... or my words in defense of Max might have caused a slight bit of jealousy there.

"Absolutely," I whispered to him. "I just have to come to grips with this clan of yours now. But I will. I promise."

We cuddled into each other, both lost in thought. Mine turned to the events that had been happening ... thinking of things I hadn't really processed. For some reason, I got this instant memory of something Max had told me about his wife. It made me giggle.

"What kind of woman in this day and age actually would agree to abide by these stupid rules? Do you know Max told me his wife had a sharp tongue? Can you imagine him putting up with that?"

"Sure she's a little mouse. Imagine him married to a woman with spirit?" He turned on his back and sighed. "Sharp tongue? What would that mean to him? I hardly think she lays down the law ...  'Okay, Max, here's the dunny brush... get cleaning.' Can you see it?"

"Her idea of rebellion is buying the wrong kind of toilet paper."

"Yeah, Max likes it rough...no soft tissue in his house- that's for epicureans. She probably sneaks in a roll for her dainty tush  Ya know where they met?" he laughed, suddenly tickled. "Well, apparently so Curry says... in the fucking museum. Bet she's a laugh a minute."

"There's a museum for fucking? I wanna go," I retorted and he first glared at me and then tickled me into submission.

We lay there chortling to each other and he swiped the hair from my face as he continued, "The British Museum Hall of Antiquities or some such shit. She was a curator or something before she had the baby. Imagine what she looks like? Thick glasses and tweed skirts."

"Oh my," I said softly at the idea. Then saying it on purpose to get a dig at Terry. "And he's such a sex kitten. What a shame."

He went on blithely in that cocky voice of his, not even getting what I'd just said. "Although Curry says she's a piece of skirt but he lived in the war - they saw pink bloomers and they shot their conkers ..." And then his eyes sharpened and glared down at me. "Sex kitten- who? Curry? He's more like a rabid dog."

"No, Maxie. He's a hottie." Giving him my innocent look and biting my tongue not to laugh as he snorted indignantly in response to my sass.

"Maximus? You joking?"

Sighing as if in real regret and shrugging my shoulders as my hand stroked over his softened cock and balls. "Ah well. Too bad he can't be as good as you. Then again, what man is?"

"How do you know- you been a naughty girl- checking out the brothers?" Saying it to me like he knew I'd never do any such thing but he probably rather enjoyed the idea anyway because he was so confident they'd never stand up to him.

"I've never had the pleasure of meeting your brothers, asshole. Remember?" I said and went to rise from him, this injection of raw reality back into the conversation.

But he yanked me back down. Not about ready to let me leave it there. His mouth at my ear as he nestled his body in along mine. Trying to keep control of this. "Well, you've met the big guy. The others have a sense of humor ... and are more inclined to my attributes ... although not quite in my league, of course."

"Of course. Though I wouldn't mind being the judge of that."

"Just try it, babes," he murmured in this voice that made me tremble with want of him; his hand stroking me and making me want nothing more than to bury myself in him.

"No, no, just kidding."

"You better."

"Sight unseen ... I already know no one holds a candle to you, baby," I cooed.

"Good job we're both perfect ... otherwise, one of us might get a big head." He gave me this little grunt and I bit back on a groan as his fingers worked at me. My hand reached as if by instinct to find out if his head was getting big. Knowing it was. "See? Maybe Max did us a favor... I sure did his wife one."

Gasping at him as he stroked a finger into me. "What favor did you do for his wife?"

"Told him about the g-spot. That should keep him busy for the next millennia."

"You didn't? Oh God. Can you imagine a Roman general on the hunt for the g-spot?"

"He'd need a scouting party."

"You'd have to step in and help, Terry," I cooed into his ear as I bit into his earlobe.

"I offered but he got a bit petulant."

"I could see you in full Sex Professor mode."

"I'm good- but I always need to demonstrate."

"You are ... good ... so good." Swallowing. "Can I be the demo unit?"

"I offered to show Mrs. Maximus how it works but he was strangely resistant to that notion," he muttered against my neck.

"You bastard. If you ever, I'll cut off your appendages that have the ability to find her g-spot."

He shivered hard at that thought. "And then...I never did fancy girls in glasses and tweed skirts ... so it's just as well."

"Good thing because I rather like said appendages ... and I hate to spoil my own fun."

And this was the moment I think we both just looked at each other and relaxed into knowing ... somehow, someway ... out of this mess, we were going to find a way back to us.

"Just remind me how much?" I loved the sexual aggression in his voice.

"Which one shall I start with?" I said as I pretended to consider my options.

He gave me that little giggle he does and his hand left my wetness in retaliation ... but as it caressed my breast and teased at my hard nipple, I could scarce complain. Then purposely forcing the conversation back into this other mode just to irritate me ... "So Mrs. Maximus goes scouring the British library looking for a reference to the g-spot and how it works. .. just take your pick of appendages while I expound on my theory ... she reckons it might be something to do with gravity, so suggests they do it standing up..."

"I rather like this one," I injected, stroking his cock and trying to throw him off his game.

"...And Max will be happy with that ...cos it's the only contraceptive he knows." Pausing to put his hand over mine and grinning at me, "Yeah- that is my favorite, actually. I don't have as many nerves in my fingers."

"Is that what makes this one so much fun?" I said as we both lost track of where his little lesson was going. Except I got this visual of his abilities ... and I think he somehow knew just what I was thinking. "Care to demonstrate that position you were just talking about, Sex Professor?"

Not even a pause. He was smoothly up, pulling me with him, his eyes latched on mine ... his hunger right on display ... his hands moving me to the wall with a deft touch that left me unable to do much more than follow his unfailing lead ... knowing he was resolutely about to make this have an impact on me.

Sealing the deal. Needing to show me how soft he could feel about me when he was at his hardest. Knowing his mastery overwhelmed me.

"Okay, so...I am Max and you are the missus. He has her up against the wall." Naughty man. "Like so."

"Oh yes." Whispering in devotion.

"Is this any better? Are you feeling the gravitational pull?"

Closing my eyes. "What would Mrs. Maxie say in the way of sweet talk to get Maxie all hot and bothered?"

"Some shit about...she just uncovered an intact pot of Roman perfume ... should she squirt it on? Make her smell like a Roman woman. That should be pleasant ... but then- to a guy who normally made do with horses and gladiators ..."

Swallowing hard. "Speaking of pleasant ..."

"Yeah ... this is rather pleasant, isn't it?" he whispered hoarsely into my shoulder.

"Oh God ... yeah. Do that again."

"Like this?" And then this fervent voice: "Jesus ... that was rather nice."

"That's putting it mildly ... but then maybe you are jaded?"

Groaning at me. "No, just don't like to come before a lady ... and I can't speak while biting my tongue."

"Don't do that. Bite my tongue instead."

His lips coming over mine. "If you insist..."

I felt myself hovering in this space within him ... his movements so measured and even ... not the frantic passion of what we'd done to release the heavy emotions of earlier ... this one was slow and sweet and all about reconnecting to each other in love.

Mumbling into each other as he moved into me ... my voice rising in time with his sure touch of my body's desires. Feeling the lightness of belonging to him. Gushing inside my heart at how it felt to cling to him and know he'd be there for me ... that there was an answer that had eluded me in that long night ... that I could still believe in him and he would never let me down.

Never let me down.

Holding me up against that wall ... my legs wrapped around his waist ... stroking into me ... letting me come fully and with joy ... then coming into me with his mouth on mine like he knew I loved.

Recovering our place ... doing it together.

Knowing it would be together that we'd face the future. Hoping this was the worst we'd ever face in our lives. Confident whatever would come would be easily surmounted as long as we were together.

I'd never make it without him.