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

“Colt, you’re a cop. I’m fairly certain you realize what you are proposing is illegal. As in bigamy.”He laughed. “You don’t legally marry us both. Just one of us. Then the three of us make our own private vows.”“Fine,” she leaned back and gave him a smug look as if expecting her next question to jar some sense into them. “Who am I going to legally marry?”He grinned at her transparency. Obviously, she thought this was going to be a sticking point. “We’ll arm wrestle to decide that.”

“How'd you get in here?"She raised her eyebrows. “You pick pockets.” Kat watched his hand fly to his back pocket. “I can pick locks. Looking for this?” she asked, holding up his wallet. “Oops. Maybe I can pick pockets too.”

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

“I'm not going to limit myself just because people won't accept the fact that I can do something else.”

“All these years I've been...I'm...' He still seemed to be choking. 'I'm...an orphan. I'm...I'm alone. I'm...I'm...I'm...free.' He pushed himself up on one elbow, staring at his hands as if for the first time they had become his own. 'I can...I can do anything. I can leave Jealousy! I can break my spectacles and run off barefoot to become a...a...cobbler! I can...I can marry my housekeeper! Do I have a housekeeper? I never had time to notice! But now I can get a housekeeper! And marry her!”