“Libraries are the future of reading. When the economy is down, we need to make it easier for people to buy and read books for free, not harder. It is stupid to sacrifice tomorrow’s book buyers for today’s dollars, especially when it’s obvious that the source in question doesn’t have any more dollars to give you.”

“You don’t love me,” she said slowly. “You’ve looked at me the same way from the instant we met.”His grip tightened on her waist. He leaned into her on a hiss. “Don’t tell me I don’t love you. Don’t you dare tell me that, Margaret. I have loved you since the moment you read my brother’s book to me. I love that you are the one woman I can trust with my weakness, that you know all the dark parts of me and do not turn away. I love the fierceness with which you protect the ones you love, even when they don’t deserve it. I love every last inch of you, and I want you for my own.” His words were hot, fiercely possessive, and yet he leaned his forehead against hers gently. “Although God knows, I don’t deserve you.”

“He set his hand over her lips, stopping her words. “I sent you away once.” His fingers trailed down her cheek. “There are some things that cannot be made right by simple apology. It’s not simply marriage I intend. It’s a promise. I will never be without you again.”Her heart thudded wildly in her chest.“I was hoping I could avoid the bit in the proposal where I lay out all the advantages of the match to you. There aren’t nearly enough of them. The truth is simply this: you can find a better man than I. God knows you wouldn’t have to look very hard. But I don’t believe you can find one who loves you more.”She sucked in her breath.“Love will never magically make me whole. It won’t heal old wounds. But when I’m around you, I do not feel as if I must be alone. I smile when you’re in the room and I laugh when you’re happy. I feel as if I’ve come home to you.” He slid his fingers up her arm, around her back. “There isn’t one part of me that you’ve flinched from. I don’t know why you’d marry me, but I know why I’m desperate for you. Nobody else on earth would bring me to myself as you have.”

“You can call me your friend if you like, but I think of you when I stroke myself. When last I checked, that points to feelings that are decidedly more than friendly.”

“Don't imagine it would be the usual kind of marriage." He seemed to withdraw even more. "It needn't even be consummated. Any woman I liked we'll enough to marry doesn't deserve to be saddled to me. If we marry, it will be a quiet wedding by special license in a back room. At the end, we'll go our separate ways--you, to your farm, and me..." He looked around the small room at the messy piles of paper. "I'm not offering to make a life with you. I'm merely giving you the chance to make your child legitimate. Nothing more."He watched her, his eyes hooded and wary. And deep inside... She had no notion as to what to say.She let out a long breath. "Oh, you are romantic.”

“After Blakely delivered that infamous and muchrepeated set down, he transferred his gaze to the newMarchioness of Blakely.She shook her head, once. Firmly. “Gareth,” she said dryly. “It is your sister’s wedding day. Behave.”Silence. He’d lifted his chin, in typical Blakely arrogance.The crowd waited for the blast.And then Lord Blakely shrugged and grinned helplessly.Grinned. Helpless. A Blakely.“Oh,” said his sister, from where she stood near him. “Isthat how it’s done? I’ll have to practice that.”Like that, everything society knew about nine generations of Blakelys went up in smoke.Since that day, there had been no question. Lady Blakely had been granted otherworldly powers at birth.Every smile she coaxed from him, every laugh that she surprised from his lips, stood as testament to her arcane abilities.And those that questioned her worth still had only to see the look in his eyes when he watched her to find all theproof they required.”

“When his eyes rested on her, he stopped. He’d been smiling before, in a friendly fashion. But what lit his face when he saw her was more than a smile, more than a grin. It was as if someone had thrown aside the curtains of a sickroom on a glorious morning, to let sunlight spill into every darkened corner.”