“Like an angel of justice taking them down with his giant sword of righteousness?” “That sounds like the tagline for a bad porn flick.”

“As we left the kitchen, I asked, “Can I hold your sword today?” Catcher glanced back over his shoulder and lifted a brow. “The sword,” I corrected. “The sword.” We’ll see.”

“Sometimes hanging out in pajamas with a good book sounded like a phenomenal idea.”

“Words have power? That sounds like you're into some Harry Potter juju.”

“There was a time,” he finally said, “when I would have acknowledged your reticence and given you time and space to reach your own decision.” He tipped my head down again and slid his fingers to the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. Then he lowered his lips to my ear.“This is not that time, Merit.” And then his mouth was on mine, and he took my breath away again. He kissed me like a man possessed, like a man with nothing more on his mind but the taste and feel of me. Like a man returned to life.”

“I had to fight the urge to turn on him and level my sword at the shrunken black nugget of his heart.”

“I kissed him, let him kiss me, let him clutch my hips, curl his fingers into the fabric of my shirt, slide his hands around my waist and splay them against my back, pull me infinitesimally closer. He made a sound, a growl or purr, some predatory noise that rumbled in his throat, then said my name. And this time, it wasn’t a question but a sound of victory, a claim on his prize.”