“How did I do that to her? Her? Punching trees and screaming? She must have been terrified.Soon his hands would heal, so he might forget the pain he’d caused her. He’d left her in the woods. Left her. Watching her find her car and punch it with the same delicate hand she’d put so trustingly in his was too much.”

“She’d said she loved him. She'd put that impossible, unimaginably beautiful gift in his hands and he’d thrown it back at her. To save her. To save himself.”

“Sebastian closed his eyes, his chin sinking toward his chest. How long he’d been trapped by those words, afraid to scare her away. How long he’d hoped that after she dealt with Ian’s ghost she would one day turn to him. Her confession of her relationship with Ian while they sat in the tree had been one step, her willingness to let him pleasure her another, and yet still it wasn’t enough. He wanted everything: her trust, her joy, her heart, her vulnerability.”

“He knew he loved her in February: steam leaving the mug of coffee in her hands in thick curls; her hair a snarled mess around her shoulders; the morning on the other side of the window bitter and windswept; her face lovely, pale, and lonely in a way he didn’t understand. She sat in the chair in his bedroom, in his shirt and a pair of socks that went up to her knees, gooseflesh on her slender legs. A copy of Oliver Twist had been open across the arm of the chair. “I think it might snow today,” she’d said, and he’d been completely in love with her.He thought she might have loved him back in March: in from the rain; his clothes stuck to his skin; the umbrella showering the hardwood of her entry hall; the dinner she’d planned forgotten when he’d helped her out of her jacket and she’d been shivering with cold. That day, when she’d pushed his wet shirt back off his shoulders and stretched up on her toes to kiss him, he was sure there was something new shining deep down in her coffee-colored eyes. “You’re so cute,” she’d said, and he’d known: she loved him.”

“Lisa, I do love a girl with fight in her, it makes it so much more fun.' Then he punched her in the face causing her to black out.”

“He smiled at her, and Sophie’s emotions went to war. She had always admired Banallt’s intellect and his easy manner with her. He never had condescended to her or made her feel unworthy or insignificant. But how could she forget him arriving at Rider Hall with Tommy, drunk and with a woman who was not respectable? All the times he’d watched her with his unsettling eyes andthen left with Tommy. The night he’d admitted he was unfaithful to his marriage and saw no reason to change.”