“I love you," he said, his voice catching. "When I thought you were going to die, I wanted to die.”

“In case there is any question in your mind," he said, cupping her face with his hands. "What I want, what I most desire, the loveliest sight on this dark earth, is you.”

“So our chess game begins tonight, Duchess. At eleven o’clock. I will give you one hour to try to win, blindfolded or no.” His teeth showed very white when he smiled. “And then I shall win.” Jemma sniffed and turned up her nose. “Pride goeth before a fall, Duke.” “You will fall before me,” he said, his smile a blatant challenge. “Backwards.”

“I very much regret to tell you that our piglet will not be able to attend, as he made good his escape while we were otherwise occupied.”

“She pulled back, but not abruptly. His eyes were the darkest indigo blue that she had ever seen. She let a faint smile curl on her lips. "You inquire how many kisses of yours would be enough, and more to satisfy me," she said, and was startled to hear a husky catch in her voice. "As many as the grains of Libyan sand that lie between hot Jupiter's oracle… as many…" She paused. The look in his eye had made her forget what she was saying. What came after hot oracle!He didn't look sardonic now, but truly surprised. She had to leave. This was all entirely too intimate and uncomfortable."Alas," she said, gathering up her skirts again and turning toward the rockslide. "I have quite forgotten the next line, so we shall have to delay this learned discussion." He was at her shoulder in a moment, helping her over the stones."As many as the stars," he said, conversationally, as if they were talking of gardening, or Romans, or any number of polite topics. "As many as the stars, when the night is still, gazing down on secret human desires.”

“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.”

“She gave a sigh and turned to meet Rafe's sardonic glance."He's not for you," Rafe said, leaning close to her."I can't think what you mean," Imogen said loftily, accepting a glass of lemonade from Brinkley."You know precisely what I mean, you little witch," Rafe said, and there wasn't even a gleam of amusement in his eyes. "You mean to have him, don't you? I've seen that look in your eyes before. That look has had you in trouble before.”