Gray light fingered the ceiling. Fury stared at it for several seconds. Then closed her eyes. She'd thought she understood need. Had experienced it as a driving force in her life. How ignorant was she though when the needs were so simple? Cotton sheets. A fresh nightdress. No rolling waves.

When she thought about that nightmare of screaming midwifery, of Flint holding her to the end, she shuddered. Even now she remembered his voice piercing what had remained of her ...