“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.”

“What were you thinking about justnow while you were looking out the window?" To his surprise, the question flustered her. "I—wasn't thinking.""Then what were you doing?" he asked, his curiosity aroused.A rueful smile touched her inviting lips, and she shot him a sideways look before turning back to thewindow. "I was… talking to God," she admitted. "'Tis a habit I have."Startled and slightly amused, Royce said, "Really? What did God have to say?""I think," she softly replied, "He said, 'You're welcome.' ""For what?" Royce teased.Lifting her eyes to his, Jenny solemnly replied, "For you.”

“You don't want to sit by me?" Rafe called to her with a grin."No, I don't," Layla said. "I wouldn't sit by you if every other seat in the room was on fire.""Ouch." Rafe winced, then rebounded with a sleazy smile. "That would hurt me if I believed it. You know you're curious to go for a ride.""About as curious as I am to get syphilis," Layla snapped.”

“Rafe asks him, could the king's freedom be obtained, sir, with more economy of means? Less bloodshed?Look, he says: once you have exhausted the process of negotiation and compromise, one you have fixed on the destruction of an enemy, that destruction must be swift and it must be perfect. Before you even glance in his direction, you should have his name on a warrant, the ports blocked, his wife and friends bought, his heir under your protection, his money in your strong room and his dog running to your whistle. Before he wakes in the morning, you should have the axe in your hand.”

“Honey, I have a feeling he doesn’t think of you as a friend. Have you seen the way he looks at you?”She glanced at him and as if he could feel her gaze, he turned his eyes on her. Soft and hard all at once. “Yeah,” Mel said. “He promised to stop doing that.”

“She smiled at him. “How did you know just what I’d want to see?”“How could I not?” he said. “When I think of you, and you are not there, I see you in my mind’s eye always with a book in your hand.” He looked away from her as he said it, but not before she caught the slight flush on his cheekbones. He was so pale, he could never hide even the least blush, she thought — and was surprised how affectionate the thought was.”