“Fate Marches on, demanding we find our destinies”

“I think that’s Miss Victorine now with your breakfast. Are you hungry?”“Do you expect me to sit here like a bloody fool and eat a meal?”“You’ll always be a bloody fool, there’s nothing to be done about that, and I don’t care if you starve to death.” Moving to the bottom of the stairway, she took the tray from Miss Victorine’s hand. “But right now you have to maintain a modicum of health or we won’t get our money.”

“If our legal counsel, Bob Rutherford, works for Satan, Satan should buy Bob a better toupee.”

“In the top drawer of my bedside table, there’s a small box. It contains everything we need to make our night pleasurable. If you have to, leave everything else behind but bring that box.”She snorted as if in derision—but it was a weak snort. She walked toward the steps again.“Amy.”She turned back to him. “What?”“Did you notice I didn’t ask for a nightshirt?”She glanced at his lit in her hand and wondered why he told her that.Then she knew why.He had just told her he slept nude.Every night in the cellar right beneath her bedchamber, his naked body remained at the ready to welcome her. Now that she knew it, she could never escape the image . . . or the temptation.”

“Why do we have to go to Summerwind Abbey tonight? Why couldn’t we have waited until I at least combed the sand out of my hair?” She heard the whine in her voice and realized she’d been reduced to petulance. With any luck at all, she’d become a nag and make Jermyn a dreadful wife.”

“Holding her tight against him, he said, "I am the blood in your veins, the marrow in your bones. You'll never go anywhere without knowing I'm inside you, supporting you, keeping you alive. I am a part of you. You are a part of me. We are forever.”

“I have never seen an unclad male form in my life, and I haven’t suffered for the lack.”“By an extraordinary coincidence, I haven’t seen an unclad male form in my life, either. I’d say it’s time to remedy the situation.” Tugging his shirt open, Amy peered down at his chest.“We can’t look at him when he’s unconscious! It’s . . . it’s immoral.” Miss Victorine fanned herself with her handkerchief.Coal watched the white cotton as if contemplating if it would shred.“Dear Miss Victorine, we abducted him from his own estate. I hardly think sneaking a peek at his chest compares.” Letting his shirt drop back, Amy added, “Besides, we looked at his face.”“That’s different.” Miss Victorine leaned closer. “What color is it?”“What color is what?” Amy teased.“You know. The hair on his body.”Amy flashed her a grin. “Red.”“Appropriate,” Miss Victorine said crisply.“Why do you say that?”“You’re gazing upon the gateway to hell.”“I don’t think I looked that far,” Amy said reflectively.”