“This man was truly like a scorpion, a poisonous sting when one least expected it.”

“Your holiness!" She raised her voice, forcing herself to sound tearful andsupplicatory. "If we are to die, would you let me kiss him one last time?"She half expected Taka to react to her uncharacteristic behavior, but he didn'tmove, didn't look at her. He was kneeling in the frozen dirt beside her, every inch of him alert, and she was probably the least of his concerns."You want to kiss the man who tried to kill you? You are a very foolish youngwoman," the Shirosama said. "Go ahead."Taka turned to her, his eyes dark and unreadable, waiting. She reached up, put her mouth against his and whispered, "I have a knife that's fallen down the front of my shirt, you son of a bitch. See if you can get it." The feel of his lips against hers was agony. The sickness deep inside her was that she wanted to kiss him anyway, no matter what he'd done.”

“He wasn't marrying her. Even if she'd have him, which she certainly wouldn't, he had no intention of leg-shackling himself to such a difficult woman. She's always be racing off to save some new stray lamb, and if she even caught wind of the Scorpion's criminal associations she'd probaby try to save them, as well. She was a dangerous woman, never content with the status quo, and she would drag who ever was fool enough to marry her along for the ride.”

“She heard the zip of his pants, and expected him to step away from her, leave her alone in the bathroom to pull herself together. Instead, his hands were very gentle as he moved her out of the way, running water into the tiny sink.And then his hands were between her legs, and he was washing her, and she was too shocked to do anything more than let him. He tossed the paper towels, then took her discarded clothes from the floor and put them on her, waiting patiently as she lifted one foot, then the other. She was trembling, weak, totally compliant, and when he finished he wet another paper towel and washed her face with it, gently, like a lover.”

“He halted abruptly, and this time she did slam into him, but at least it was his back absorbing the blow of her soft body. He could pretend to ignore it. “What have you got on your feet?” he growled.“Shoes.”He looked down, his eyes accustomed to the inky black. Light-weight sneakers, already soaking wet from the damp undergrowth. “Christ, woman,” he muttered.“I didn’t exactly get a chance to choose my wardrobe when they kidnapped me,” she said.Damned if he didn’t like her.”

“He was a man who fucked in silence. And when he climaxed, long, hard, endlessly, inside her tight body, he heard his voice in the darkness. Calling her name.”

“It's going to storm," she said."You've been in Alabama for twenty-four hours and you think you canread the weather?""Then why is it so dark?""It's going to storm."She wanted to hit him. "Then I'd appreciate getting to my car before ithits. I don't like thunderstorms. ""No, I imagine you don't," he said softly. "That's just something elseyou're afraid of. Sex, men, thunderstorms, being poor. Me. Anything else?"Yeah," she said. "I'm afraid of alligators and poisonous snakes, orotherwise I wouldn't be here in this hearse with you.”