“... You are the closest I will ever come to heaven, either here on Earth or in the afterlife, and I will not regret it, not even at the cost of your tears.So I go to my grave an unrepentant sinner, I’m afraid. There is no use in mourning one such as I, dearest...-Simon to Lucy in a letter before the last duel.”

“I love you,” she said, speaking clearly so that there might be no confusion. “I love you utterly and completely. I love your elegant hands and the way you smile with only one side of your mouth — when you smile at all — and I love how grave your eyes are. I love that you let me invade your house with nearly my entire family and yours, and never even turned a hair. I love that you made love to me when I asked you, purely for politeness’ sake, and I love that you got mad at me later and made me make love to you. I love that you let Her Grace and her puppies construct a nest out of your shirts in your dressing room. I love that you’ve spent years selflessly saving people in St. Giles — although I want you to stop right now. I love that you killed a man for me, even if I’m still mad at you about it. I love that you saved my letters before we even knew each other well, and I love the curt, overly serious letters you wrote to me in return.”She looked at him very seriously. “I love you, Godric St. John, and now I’m breaking my word. I will not leave you. You may either come with me to Laurelwood or I’ll stay here with you in your musty old house in London and drive you mad with all my talking and relatives and… and exotic sexual positions until you break down and love me back, for I’m warning you that I’m not giving up until you love me and we’re a happy family with dozens of children.”She paused at that point because she’d run out of breath and looked at him.His face had gone still and for a moment her heart sank and she had to fortify herself for a battle.But then his mouth quirked like that and he said, “Exotic sexual positions?”And she knew even before he said anything else that it was all going to be fine—more than fine. It was going to be wonderful.”

“I’m leaving.” Her cold lips barely moved as she mouthed the words.Horror fisted around his vitals. “No.”For the first time she met his eyes. Hers were red-rimmed but dry. “I have to leave,Simon.”“No.” He was a little boy denied a sweet. He felt like falling down and screaming.“Let me go.”“I can’t let you go.” He half laughed here in the too-bright, cold London sun before his ownhouse. “I’ll die if I do.”She closed her eyes. “No, you won’t. I can’t stay and watch you tear yourself apart.”“Lucy.”“Let me go, Simon. Please.” She opened her eyes, and he saw infinite pain in her gaze.Had he done this to his angel? Oh, God. He unclasped his hands.”

“My darling Lucy.” He panted against her ear, and then his teeth scraped her earlobe. “I love you,” he whispered. “Don’t ever leave me.”

“Griffin leaned across the desk, his arms braced on the now-clear top, and stared into Wakefield’s outraged eyes. “We seem to be under a confusion of communication. I did not come here to ask for your sister’s hand. I came to tell you I will marry Hero, with or without your permission, Your Grace. She has lain with me more than once. She may well be carrying my child. And if you think that I’ll give up either her or our babe, you have not done nearly enough research into my character or history.”

“I love you, Godric St. John, and now I'm breaking my word. I will not leave you. You may either come with me to Laurelwood or I'll stay here with you in your musty old house in London and drive you mad with all my talking and relatives and... and exotic sexual positions until you break down and love me back, for I'm warning you that I'm not giving up until you love me and we're a happy family with dozens of children.”

“She heard him close the door. “I was going to impress you with my romantic eloquence, of course. I’d thought to wax philosophical about the beauty of your brow.”Lucy blinked. “My brow?”“Mmm. Have I told you that your brow intimidates me?” She felt his warmth at her back as he moved behind her, but he didn’t touch her. “It’s so smooth and white and broad, and ends with your straight, knowing eyebrows, like a statue of Athena pronouncing judgment. If the warrior goddess had a brow like yours, it is no wonder the ancients worshiped and feared her.”“Blather,” she murmured.“Blather, indeed. Blather is all I am, after all.”She frowned and turned to contradict him, but he moved with her so that she couldn’t quite catch sight of his face.“I am the duke of nonsense,” he whispered in her ear. “The king of farce, the emperor of emptiness.”Did he really see himself so? “But—”“Blathering is what I do best,” he said, still unseen. “I’d like to blather about your golden eyes and ruby lips.”“Simon—”“The perfect curve of your cheek,” he murmured close.She gasped as his breath stirred the hair at her neck. He was distracting her with lovemaking. And it was working. “What a lot of talk.”“I do talk too much. It’s a weakness you’ll have to bear in your husband.” His voice was next to her ear. “But I’d have to spend quite a bit of time outlining the shape of your mouth, itssoftness and the warmth within.-Simon to Lucy on their wedding night.”