“There isn't a button," she said. "You choose your setting and then you pull the dial." He glanced at her as she folded a shirt, annoyed by her nonchalance at doing laundry. "What exactly is my setting? It looks to me like the setting is the goddamn laundry room and the plot is I don't know how to fucking turn this thing on.”

“How do you make a girl know she's beautiful? What is the system for that, what do you show her, how do you give her a new set of eyes and turn her face back to the mirror?”

“god, can you imagine getting married at nineteen?" miranda asked. "when i was nineteen i didnt even know how to do my own laundry." she added, for david's beneit, "you know, laundry? washing your own clothes? there are people who do that."he rolled his eyes. "i know how to do laundry. i watched my wife do it dozens of times.”

“Her phone rang again. “What?” she snapped as she answered it.Myrnin, of course. “Are you on your way?”“No!”“Claire, there are things to do.”“Here, too,” she said. “And I’m staying here, believe me.”Myrnin was silent for a beat, and then he said, “Bob would be very disappointed in you.”“Bob the spider?”“He looks at you like a mother, you know. I’m surprised at your lack of work ethic. Think of the example you set for—”She hung up on him and turned the phone on vibrate and relaxed in Shane’s arms.”

“You know,” she said dreamily, passing over his question, “you’re not nearly as handsome as Lord St.Vincent.”“There’s a surprise,” he said dryly.“But for some reason,” she continued, “I never want to kiss him the way I do you.” It was a good thing that she had closed her eyes, for if she had seen his expression, she might not have continued. “There is something about you that makes me feel terribly wicked. You make me want to do shocking things. Maybe it’s because you’re so proper. Your necktie is never crooked, and your shoes are always shiny. And your shirts are so starchy. Sometimes when I look at you, I want to tear off all your buttons. Or set your trousers on fire.”

“He smiled, setting his forehead to hers. "you are very bad for me. I am trying to turn over a new leaf--I am trying to be more gentlemanly." "But what if I want you to stay a rake?" she teased, her fingers trailing down his neck and chest, fingering the buttons on his waistcoat. "A libertine, even?" she slipped one fastening from its seat and he grabbed her errant hand, bringing it to his lips for a swift kiss. "Callie," he said, his voice thick with warning as she set her free hand to the second button on his coat. "What if I want the rogue, Gabriel?" the question was soft and sweet. "What are you saying?"She kissed across the firm square line of his jaw and whispered to him, shyness in her shaking voice, "Take me to bed, Gabriel. Give me a taste of scandal.”