“So close now, Alec could read the make on his wetsuit, see the individual grains of sand that dustedthe black material, the drops of water trembling on the points of his hair. Now or never. But Alec couldn‟t,couldn’t. Could he?He stood up. “Stop!” His mouth dried out as the surfer‟s dark, dark green eyes looked into his, startledand curious. Suddenly he felt an absolute fool. He was inviting a good kicking, at least. But damn it, a mancouldn‟t always be afraid.“Don‟t go past. Please. Sit down and drink with me. If you go past… If you go past, I think I‟ll die.”

“Christ is born, my wise Solomon, my wretched pen-pusher! Don´t go picking things over with a needle! Is He born or isn´t He? Of course He is born, don´t be daft. If you take a magnifying glass and look at your drinking water-an engineer told me this, one day – you´ll see, he said, the water´s full of little worms you couldn´t see with your naked eye. You´ll see the worms and you won´t drink. You won´t drink and you´ll curl up with thirst. Smash your glass, boss, and the little worms´ll vanish and you can drink and be refreshed!”

“and he stopped going to church entirely, because there seemed no point now in even contemplating prayer for his soul. Besides, the parish church near Kilmartin dated to 1432, and the crumbling stones certainly couldn‟t takea direct strike of lightning.And if God ever wanted to smite a sinner, he couldn‟t do better than Michael Stirling.Michael Stirling, Sinner.He could see it on a calling card. He‟d have had it printed up, even—his was just that sort of black sense of humor—if he weren‟t convinced it would kill his mother on the spot.Rake he might be, but there was no need to torture the woman who‟d borne him.”

“She didn‟t look like the athletic type to me.” “Maybe Nemov carried her. He looked like he could.” “He looked like he could carry his SUV. I don‟t know why he didn‟t.”

“Michael, I am most pleased to see you up and about and looking so fine and healthy.”He inclined his head, thanking her for the compliment.She dabbed the corners of her mouth daintily with her napkin. “But now you must attend to your responsibilities as the earl.”He groaned.“Don‟t be so petulant,” Janet said. “No one is going to hang you up by your thumbs. All I was going to say is that you must go to the tailor and make sure you have proper evening clothes.”“Are you certain I can‟t donate my thumbs instead?”

“Now, watching her sleep, and closing his eyes, he felt, in this particular intimacy - stowed beneath her duvet - that he was intruding. At the same time, he knew, settling down, you couldn´t dislike anyone you'd seen sleep”