“Give me one last time,” he begged. “Please, please. I beg you.” “I—” She stopped and started again. “I’m afraid, Gabriel. You’ll break my heart.” “Mine is already broken.”

“Gabriel looked up at her from under thick eyelashes. “Will you please grope me under the table, Kate mine?”“I’m not your Kate,” she said, feeling her lips curve. Her treacherous heart was no match for a flirtatious prince on a summer’s day.“That’s the odd thing,” he said, lying on his back again and shading his eyes with an arm. “You are, you are, you are.”

“I did it,” Gabriel said, conversationally. “I met the woman, the only woman for me. I met her, and now . . . I’m going to meet my wife.”

“Yes Leopold," Eleanor said in a low, mocking voice. "Do start to shine, please. I think I saw the rising, but I definitely missed the shining.”

“I would prefer not to throw myself on a funeral pyre. Please come back to me.”

“How many times would I damn myself for you? Ask me that.""How many?" she said faintly, her eyes searching his face. She stopped breathing to hear his answer."Till the gates of hell close," he said flatly.”

“I woke up this morning,” Gabriel said, “thinking of nothing more than rolling over and pulling you into my arms and kissing you again. Kissing: only kissing. As if I were a green boy of fourteen. In case you don’t realize it, Kate, kissing is not a man’s usual inclination in the morning.”