“What does that word mean?" Cassidy asked. Her voice was soft, sexy. Mind-blowing. "Querida, or whatever you said? I don't speak Spanish.""It's a term of endearment. An Anglo might say darling or honey.""What was the other one you used? Me ha?"Mi ja. Short for mi hija. It's what you say to someone you care about."She smiled. "When you say that you sound ---I don't know---affectionate.""Maybe I like cats," Diego said.Cassidy rested her hand on his chest, and her smile widened. "Meow.”

“We don't fit in, you and me," he said. "We're both oddities no one knows what to do with. But we fit together." He took her hand, pressed her palm to his, then laced their fingers through each other's. "We fit.”

“Beth stared at the bowl, a fragile piece of the past, such a delicate object in Ian’s large, blunt fingers. “Are you certain?” “Of course I’m certain.” His frown returned. “Do you not want it?” “I do want it,” Beth said hastily. She held her hands out for it. “I’m honored.” The frown faded, to be replaced by a slight quirk of his lips.“Is it better than a new carriage and horses and a dozen frocks?”“What are you talking about? It’s a hundred times better.” “It’s only a bowl.” “It’s special to you, and you gave it to me.” Beth took it carefully and smiled at the dragons chasing one another in eternal determination. “It’s the best gift in the world.” Ian took it gently back from her and replaced it in its slot. That made sense; in here it would stay safe and unbroken. But the kiss Ian gave her after that was anything but sensible. It was wicked and bruising, and she had no idea why he smiled so triumphantly.”

“My Beth,” he whispered, his breath hot on her swollen lips. “Thank you.” “For what?” Beth couldn’t stop crying, but she smiled, her face aching with it. “Setting me free.”

“Ian cupped her chin and turned her face up to his. Then he did what he’d been practicing since the night on the train – he looked her fully in the eyes.He couldn’t always do it. Sometimes his gaze simply refused to obey, and he’d turn away with a growl. But more and more he’d been able to focus directly on her. Ian’s eyes were beautiful, even more so when his pupils widened with desire. “Have I told you today that I love you?” he asked. “A few dozen times. Not that I mind.”As a young woman who’d been starved for love much of her life, Beth lapped up Ian’s generous outpouring of the words. He’d surprise her with them, catching her as she walked down the hall, pushing her up against a wall, breathing, “I love you.” Or he’d tickle her awake and tell her while she tried to hit him with a pillow. The best was when he lay against her in the dark, fingers tracing her body. She treasured his whispered, “I love you.”

“I can't believe you're here," she says, her voice soft. "I can't believe you found me.""You found me first," he says, and when he leans to kiss her, it's slow and sweet and she knows that this will be the one she always remembers. Because while the other two kisses felt like endings, this one is unquestionably a beginning.”

“Last night, I thought we were going to begin.”“Begin what?”She let out a soft sigh and said, “You know, begin”His voice held a smile when he replied, “We did, Abby. Couldn’t you tell?”She pulled his pillow to her chest and whispered, “Not really.”“Then you weren’t paying much attention” he muttered.”