They both fell onto the deck of the boat, tangled together and both breathing heavily. Jennifer sat up slightly and looked at him. "You're pretty good," she praised.

Jonathan pushed himself up to match her eyeline. "You're not to bad yourself." He stood and helped her up. "Come on, let's get a breather while we can."

They sat down on an empty bench at the stern of the ferry as they made their way down the Thames. Jonathan had no idea where they were going and it hardly mattered. He only cared that they were alive and no longer running away from a man who tried to shoot them.

Once they were settled for a moment, Jennifer turned to him and asked, "Would you have turned me in if you had the chance?"

The fact that she was a rabid reporter was abundantly clear to him now, the way she berated him in the car and now this. He replied, "I never had the chance." She had a little crease in her brow as she looked at him with a fiery determination that somehow made him want to smile. But he couldn't smile when she was still berating him.

"Well, maybe you've come to your senses and you realize that I was telling you the truth." Oh she was so self-righteous. She had a lot of nerve.

He didn't mind that she had a lot of nerve, actually. Quite the opposite. But he still wasn't going to back down. "That's not quite right."

"I am telling you the truth!" she vehemently maintained. She turned away from him and sat back, her head held high and that beautiful line of her neck—beautiful even hidden by the high neck of that great red sweater—was on lovely display.

Jonathan turned his gaze to the river. He was finding that he couldn't really think clearly when he looked at her for too long. "You lied to me once before," he reminded her.

"When?" she demanded.

"When you tried to make me believe that we spent the night together." Jonathan was usually much more nonplussed about things like that. Sleeping with a woman, not sleeping with a woman, so long as she enjoyed—one way or the other—what did he care? But with Jennifer, he was sore about it. He didn't like that he was sore about it. It meant something, though, that he minded so much. It wasn't just that she'd tricked him, and it wasn't just that he was embarrassed over falling asleep and not remembering anything. It was that he…well… "Why did you do that?" he asked.

Jennifer tilted her head in a noncommittal sort of way.

"I'm listening," Jonathan pressed.

She sighed and stammered and said nothing.

"I'm listening," he repeated, more forcefully this time.

"Because I…wanted to see you again," she confessed.

Well that he liked hearing very much. He shouldn't have liked it so much. He was supposed to be mad at her and he certainly wasn't supposed to trust her. But she'd wanted to see him again. And he really did like that.

"And because I wanted to finish the story," she added, unable to look at him as she said it.

Of course she ruined it. Rabid reporter, through and through. "The story," he grumbled, feelings hurt all over again.

"You asked me!" she defended. "I don't lie!"

"The rose was a nice touch," he said. He could have snarled from those hurt feelings, but he just…well, he didn't have it in him. Not right now. Not with her.

Jennifer turned away again and softly said, "Thank you." But with that self-righteous air again, she said, "You still haven't answered my question."

"Why I didn't turn you in?"

"Yes."

Jonathan found himself leaning a little closer to her. He was drawn to her like a magnet, even more so because she wasn't looking at him. She glanced at him once and turned back, facing straight ahead as he sat there beside her, watching her and wondering what the hell he was going to do.

He didn't have a good answer to her question, was the thing. Why didn't he turn her in? He was going to. He really was. He was furious when he found her right there with the dead editor. And the revelation that she lied to him about who she was and about spending the night together. He should have turned her in!

But the evening they shared last night—the parts he remembered, anyway—were still in his mind. And all that had happened so far today. She was tenacious and brilliant and strong, and while all of that should have really ticked him off, under the circumstances, Jonathan really wasn't as annoyed as all that.

And he couldn't take his eyes off her. And he didn't even really want to try.

"Because I like your eyes," he said. It was only a small part of the true answer, but it was the first thing that came to mind. He liked her eyes. Loved her eyes. Loved…hmm…

Jennifer's jaw dropped for a moment and then she finally turned her head to look at him. God, she was beautiful. Those eyes of hers, especially. "You do?" she asked in slight disbelief.

Jonathan found himself smiling at her. He couldn't help it. "Yes, I do."

And Jennifer started to smile, too. "Then you believe me?"

"I didn't say that," he replied, teasing her ever so slightly. "I said I liked your eyes."

"In your heart, you know it's true!" she pressed. Her voice was soft and gentle now. And she faced him straight on. And she was getting even closer, too.

"I didn't say that either," he tried to maintain. He knew what was happening, and he was losing his resistance. Though, come to think of it, why was he resisting at all? He was already gone for her. Had been since the moment they first met, really.

"Oh Jonathan," Jennifer sighed. Her gaze left his eyes and went to his lips. "Tell me you believe me," she beckoned with a low tone.

Jonathan shifted to put his arms around her. "I believe you," he murmured before pressing his lips to hers at long last.

Jennifer's hand curled against his chest as her incredible lips molded against his perfectly.

He pulled back to repeat, "I believe you." He added, "Louise."

Her mouth opened and those beautiful eyes got fiery again to gear up for another protest, but Jonathan kissed her again before she could get started.

And with that kiss, Jonathan Hart had a feeling he'd only had twice before, the feeling deep in his soul with the absolute knowledge that his life was forever changed from this moment.

Jonathan kissed her hard and lingering but pulled back after a moment. But not too much. He left another sweet peck on her lips before smiling in a way that would have made her knees weak if she'd been standing up. "Jennifer," he murmured.

She grinned at the sound of him saying her name—her real name—with such affection. Jennifer had never thought much of her name one way or another before, but no one had ever said her name like Jonathan did. Suddenly it was her favorite word in all the world when he said it. When he said it like that.

Jennifer leaned in to kiss him again. And neither of them pulled back. He moved his lips against hers so masterfully, it was almost like no one had ever truly kissed her before. His mouth was sensual and hungry, and Jennifer felt the heat rise in her body. She felt the barest hint of his tongue and she immediately parted her lips for him. Oh god, how was it she could feel like this with all her clothes still on, with just a simple kiss! Well, it wasn't really a simple kiss. But the taste of Jonathan's tongue in her mouth, the way it caressed hers, she'd never experienced anything like it.

All her life, Jennifer Edwards had been too smart to fall in love. She'd enjoyed every man she'd ever been with. She was smart and almost never let anyone treat her badly, and if she ever got the hint that they might, she got rid of them. Men had fallen in love with her before, or had claimed to, and she had been flattered but nothing more. Having a lover for a few months or so was always enjoyable, and that was all there was to it. No love at first sight, no lightning strike, no silly fairytales about living happily ever after. She had more important things to do, better ways to spend her time.

Jonathan Hart changed all that. His warmth and humor and sensitivity and goodness. His blue eyes and charming smile. And his kiss. The planets all aligned with his kiss. This affection she had for him, this magnetism that she'd felt for him. It all made sense now. He wasn't just a story, wasn't just a handsome man for the weekend. He was everything. All at once, Jonathan Hart was everything. And all those fairytales didn't seem so silly anymore.

The pair of them continued making out like teenagers, for lack of a better term, until the blare of the boat's horn startled them apart. They both giggled. Jonathan held her in his embrace, and Jennifer rested her head on his shoulder, sighing happily. For now, for this one moment in the midst of this horrific day, she was happy. She wanted to be happy. With him.

She clutched the lapel of his jacket, snuggling against him. "Oh Jonathan," she murmured.

"Yes, darling," he answered.

Oh she had thought she loved to hear him say her name. Being called darling was even better. Jennifer lifted her head, and Jonathan loosened his embrace to let her up. And then, because she couldn't help herself, she leaned in and kissed him again.

The skipper came on the loudspeaker announcing the dock they'd arrived at, and people started disembarking. They had to pull apart for good. And Jennifer felt her happiness evaporating. "What are we going to do? We can't just keep cruising the Thames," she asked worriedly.

"We're going to Scotland Yard," he told her.

Her heart fell out the bottom of her stomach. "Scot—! I thought you said you believed me."

"I do. Sort of."

She couldn't quite tell if he was being smug or teasing or just difficult, but it hurt her all the same. "What do I have to do to convince you?" Jennifer pleaded. Couldn't he feel what she felt? Didn't he know down in his soul about her the way she did about him? He must. He couldn't kiss her like that if he didn't.

But Jonathan still held her in his arms and told her, "I'll think of something, but in the meantime, we're going to go to Scotland Yard because if someone is trying to kill me—"

Jennifer gasped, ready to remind him that she was just as likely the target as he was, but he didn't let her get a word in.

"And you," he added quickly, "then we're gonna get the proper protection."

She certainly couldn't argue with that. He was a pragmatic sort. Had to be in order to be as successful as he was. "Well, that is a very, very good idea," she said.

He grinned. "Flattery will get you everything."

Jennifer wanted him to kiss her again, but if he did, they would probably never make it off this boat. It was for the best, then, that Jonathan let go of her and stood up. He put on his coat, since the wind was picking up by the river. And he held her hand to help her over the dock. Getting off the boat was certainly easier than getting on.

As they walked, she could feel his tension. He was on one side of her and then the other, looking all around cautiously. He was protecting her. She loved him for it.

All of a sudden, a man in a dark suit approached them. "Mr. Hart?"

"Yes?" Jonathan answered.

The man threw a punch right to Jonathan's gut, causing him to grunt in pain and surprise. Before he could fight back, the man threw him off the railing into the river!

"Jonathan!" Jennifer screamed in terror as he splashed down.

But then the man was back, and before Jennifer could run away, he had grabbed her arm and pressed a gun into her back. "Don't make a foolish move. Not a word."

She didn't have a single word she could say. But the first thought that crossed Jennifer's mind was the realization that she had fallen in love and the man she loved had fallen in the Thames. And she might be killed before she could ever see him again.