“I don't mind being alone either. The only problem is that if you're always alone, you get lonely.”

“You didn’t think I’d let you go alone, did you?”“No, but I’m grateful that I had you with me.”“Grateful is all I’m going to get, isn’t it?”“What else were you hoping for?”“Adoration, devotion, affection, infatuation, or just plain finding me irresistible.”“Sorry, Don Juan. You’ll have to live with my undying gratitude.”

“I don't need poetry, prema. I just need to get near enough to touch you.”

“I don't want you to see only a tiger when you look at me. I want you to see me. The man.”

“I could feel the warmth of his presence as if a soft blanket had been wrapped around my soul, around my heart. It held me and protected me. It sheltered me and I knew I wasn’t alone anymore.”

“I could still feel the ghost of him hovering in the quiet, dark recess of my heart. It was as if he was just waiting for me to be lonely, or to let my guard down, so that he could surface and fill my mind again with thoughts of him.”

“That dress…was a very, very good decision. I could write an entire poem on the virtues of your legs alone. You are a feast for the senses.” I laughed. “I don’t know about a feast. Maybe just an hors d'oeuvre.” He took my hand and wrapped it around his arm. “Not an hors d'oeuvre. The dessert. And I plan to spoil my appetite.”