“I'm still picking pockets--I just do it as legally as I can. Being married to a cop limits certain activities.”

“A cop? You married a bloody cop?""I married a bloody criminal," Eve muttered, "but nobody ever thinks of that.”

“Eve: What is it about asking you Catholic questions that gets you all jumpy?Roarke: You'd be jumpy, too, if I asked you things that make you feel the hot breath of hell at your back.Eve: You're not going to hell.Roarke: Oh, and have you got some inside intel on that?Eve: You married a cop...you married me. I'm your goddamn salvation.”

“I'm just full of surprises." Watching her, he waved the wrapped bar from side to side. "You can have the candy if you sit on my lap."That sounds like something perverted old men say to young, stupid girls."I'm not old, and you're not stupid." He sat, patted his knee. "It's Belgian chocolate."Just because I'm sitting on your lap and eating your candy doesn't mean you can cop a feel," she said as she folded into his lap.”

“Have McNab take the edge if you need one. Can he handle bad cop?""He does it really well during personal role-playing games when I'm the reluctant witness.”

“Three weeks hadn't changed Cop Central. The coffee was still poisonous, the noise abominable, and the view out of her stingy window was still miserable.She was thrilled to be back.”

“He shook his head and eyed Roarke. "You don't look like a cop.""I'm not and thank you for noticing.”