“When she brought Mira up, Eve gave Roarke another glance. "Don't talk to him," she warned. "He can get bitchy when he's in this deep. I don't know if we have any of that tea stuff.""I had it stocked, and I don't get bitchy. Bloody, buggering HELL."Eve just rolled her eyes and got the tea.”

“Roarke: “Our engines don't run at the same speed.”Eve: “What the hell does that mean?”Roarke: “Just that.”Eve: “It sounds like something that ought to piss me off. But I can't figure out exactly why. When I do, I might have to pop you one.”Roarke: “I'll look forward to it. If you don't sleep, eat. You need something in your stomach. And what are you grinning at?”Eve: “You. You're such a wife.”Roarke: “Now, I'm pissed off.”

“Are you getting your period?" She narrows her eyes.No! God. I hate that. I hate when every negative act is blamed on your period." Sometimes bitchiness is just bitchiness, happily unattached to anything hormonal. It should get full credit.”

“Eve: "She completely eye-fucked you." Roarke: "I know. I feel so cheap and used." Eve: "Shit. You got off on it. Men always do." Roarke: "True enough, which is why we're so often cheap and used.”

“Roarke: "Darling, before we shift into the official mode, what do you have on under that dress?"Eve: "A device designed to drive men wild."Roarke: "It's working. I don't believe I've ever seen your butt move quite that way."Eve: "It's a cop's butt now, ace, so watch it."Roarke: "I am." He smiled, gave it a nice solid smack. "Believe me.”

“When I'm with him, I can feel myself getting better. It's like he's picking up broken pieces of me and putting me back together, and I don't even know he's doing it. We never talk about it. We don't go to therapy. He just loves me and that's enough.”