“They were on the highway, lights flashing, sirens blaring. 'Maybe we should go in quietly and not tip him off. Just a suggestion.''Just clearing the way. I'll cut the lights and siren before we turn off the highway.''I see the heavy traffic,' Lev said. There wasn't a car on the road.”

“What the hell was he shooting at? You? Or the birds?''He fired off a few rounds at me, both from here and back there.' Lev turned to indicate the spot where the assailant stood. 'Then he was shooting at the owls.''The ones that attacked him.' There was open skepticism in Jonas's voice.'I don't carry spare owl feathers in my pocket,' Levi said.”

“You just like to piss me off,” Jack said.“Well, there’s that. On the other hand, we’ll find out really fast just how much of a bastard you’re going to be to live with—with your woman around. You get out of line, and I’ll have to take you out behind the barn.”“We don’t have a barn.”“I told you we needed a barn, damn it,” Ken said. “You had to have a shop. It doesn’t sound the same saying I’m taking you out behind the shop.”

“-Mikhail?...Try making suggestions next time, or just plain asking. You go do whatever it is you're doing, and I'll go search you extensive library for a book on manners.-You will not find it.-Why am I not surprised?”

“You are the sweetest man, Savannah inserted softly, her voice brushing at him. Echoing.Gregori frowned. Echoing? Close. He swung around, cursing in French, an eloquent dissertation that had Gary cringing. Savannah,however, simply took Gregori's arm and smiled up at him, the stars in her eyes dancing. She was like that.Distracting him and then slamming him sideways with her smile. With her blue-violet eyes with their accursed star centers. She didn't even have the decency to look repentant.Don't be angry, Gregori.I was lonesome in the house all by myself. Are you really,really angry? Or just a little angry? Her voice was soft, a siren's whisper, made of silk sheets and candlelight. Her long lashes were thick and heavy, a sweep of magic that caught his eye and held it there.It is impossible for you to be lonely when you are always running around in my head.”

“I am going to hate New Orleans," he whispered against her silken hair before she began lowering her head.Her breath warmed the velvet tip of him, sending fire racing through his blood. "Maybe we can think of something interesting to make it more enjoyable for you," she ventured. Her mouth was satin soft, moist and hot.Gregori pressed his hips forward, forcing her back on the bed, his knees on the thick blanket above her. She was so beautiful, her flawless skin like cream, her thick hair spilling around her slender shoulders. Sitting up, she slowly peeled off the cotton shirt, baring her full breasts to his silver gaze. She looked lush and sexy in the dark of the night, a mysterious,erotic gift to him."You think you might make New Orleans more bearable for me then?" His eyes were saying more than his mouth, touching her here and there, dwelling on every curve of her body.Her hand spanned his flat stomach and lingered there. "I'm sure I can be inventive enough to make you forget your dread of crowds. Take off my jeans.""Your jeans?" he echoed."You put them on me, and they're definitely in the way. Take them off." Her hand was wandering lower, her fingeres walking lightly over his clenching muscles, a deliberate persuasion.His hands made quick work of unfastening her jeans and tugging them down her legs. She kicked them aside and leaned forward to press a kiss onto his stomach. Her hair slid over his heavy fullness, a silken tangle that nearly drove him out of his mind. "Sometimes your orders are very easy to follow,ma cherie," he murmured, his eyes closing as her mouth wandered lower.”

“Maybe love was a woman feeding him pancakes. Maybe it was someone sitting across from him sipping orange juice just to please him.”