“She was an idiot. An adorable, gorgeous, feisty, funny, sweet, sexy idiot.”

“I will never not want you, understand? I love you. I adore you. I admire you. I desire you. You are my heart. My blood, my bones. My everything.”

“I’m sorry, I have to move. I have to. You’re so bloody tight. So good,” he groaned, his face distorted with need. He started to pump into her, long, powerful thrusts, the slap of flesh on flesh and the wet rush of their bodies moving together mingling with their ragged breathing. Everywhere she touched him he was hard as granite, as though every muscle in his body was straining toward completion. She’d never felt more desired, more wanted, more wanton or sexy in her life and she felt her own desire rising higher with every stroke.”

“She didn’t sound overjoyed. She didn’t sound even slightly joyed.”

“She ate toast in bed, then reread a favorite book, taking comfort from a story where she knew the outcome would be good and just and right.”

“She should have looked ridiculous, standing there wet and bedraggled in her silly underwear, but she looked magnificent. Like some kind of mythical goddess rising from the mists of time.Statuesque, utterly feminine. Breathtaking.”

“Just leave me alone, I want to be alone,” she said when Jack tried to open the car door. She hit the lock, and wound the window up. Since the roof was down, it was a fairly pointless exercise.”