Angry was the best way to describe her feelings. Angry at being assaulted. Angry at her reaction, especially her body's reaction to the assault. If so...e part of her liked it, was it really assault? What the hell was it? Damn at forty-five, she was really confused. She had no one to talk to. Not her husband who would only get mad. Not her girlfriends from back home who would never understand her mixed emotions. So in a nutshell, RuthAnn was stuck to sort this mess of emotions out. The weather in. Palestinian border - 1956 C.E.The great general clapped the boy on the shoulder, and exclaimed; "If I had a regiment like you, we'd push the enemy back to the Sahara in a few months. You might be a Gentile, but I wish I had a thousand more, just like you."The awed boy gazed up at one of the world's greatest military heroes, speechless at the praise coming from this man's lips. As usual, he ignored the trademark eyepatch, and looked into the old warrior's good eye."Thank you, General," he said,. He treasured that as well.He carried her back to the bed and cuddled her close. He’d contact Michael in the morning and get the ball rolling on the prenup. Grace was right; people would judge them both if he didn’t. But he’d make damn sure Grace was taken care of, even if, by some bizarre circumstance, they should part. He owed her that much in his mind.Before falling asleep, Grace mumbled something about a dress shop. Mac kissed her temple and said, “Tomorrow, my love.” Chapter Sixty-FourThe. As each of them descends from the passenger car they meet my eyes and quickly look away. They each have the same motionless, ash-hued hair. They walk by me with familiar features perched on their faces: olive eyes defined by harsh cutting eyebrows, slender noses with tucked nostrils, moist fish lips and abrupt cheekbones. Each feature stinks of corruption and new money. The station is dyed a muddy color as the passengers walk robotically in their drab suits and matching, striped ties. The.