“He extricated himself from her encircling arm and she moaned a little and curled away from him. He moved close again, foetally fitting himself to her shape, wrapping his arm around her waist. She awoke briefly and clasped his hand tightly to her belly, and murmured sleepily, 'I do love you Martin.' Choked, he buried his face in the smooth nape of her neck, and summoned the courage to tell her what he hadn't dared say; that he loved her too, more than he could ever have imagined possible.”

“When he returned, Edith was in bed with the covers pulled to her chin, her face turned upward, her eyes closed, a thin frown creasing her forehead. Silently, as if she were asleep, Stoner undressed and got into bed beside her. For several moments he lay with his desire, which had become an impersonal thing, belonging to himself alone. He spoke to Edith, as if to find a haven for what he felt; she did not answer. He punt his hand upon her and felt beneath the thin cloth of her nightgown the flesh he had longed for. He moved his hand upon her; she did not stir; her frown deepened. Again he spoke, saying her name to silence; then he moved his hand upon her, gentle in his clumsiness. When he touched the softness of her thighs she turned her head sharply away and lifted her arm to cover her eyes. She made no sound.”

“Abby,” he murmured, lifting a hand to curve around her neck. “I love you.”A sob slipped free and she wrapped her arms around his waist. One of his hands cupped the back of her neck and cuddled her in close.As he bent around her, he whispered, “I’ve loved you so long, I can’t remember what it’s like to not love you. And I’ll go to my grave loving you. You’re my everything.”

“When she didn’t let go, when she buried her freckled nose in his chest and snuggled closer and when she shivered from the cold, he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and wrapping his arms around her. Hesitant, he lowered his face into her hair and breathed deep.”

“He pulled the knitting away from her, throwing it in the grass, then sank down on his knees in front of her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his head in her lap. He was shaking, she realized, and the tears were pouring down her face, onto him, as she stroked his long, silken hair and cried.She didn't care what it sounded like—the hiccupping noises, the choking sobs.Her own body was shaking, racked by the final release, and he sat back on his heels and pulled her out of the chair, into his arms, holding her so tightly that a weaker woman might break, whispering to her in Japanese, sweet, loving words, letting her cry.She was a strong woman, and her tears, so long denied, only made her stronger.His heart was pounding against hers, his hands firm and tender, pushing the hair away from her tear-drenched face. When he kissed her she couldn't breathe, and she didn't care.”

“(Coburn)“Honor.”Gasping, she lowered her arm from over her eyes and looked into his face.“Put your hands on me. Pretend this means something.”With a whimper, she wrapped her arms around him and clutched his back, then slid her hands down over his ass and drew him even deeper into her. He groaned, buried his face in the hollow of her neck, and rocked his body against hers. An orgasm burst through her at the same time he came.She pretended nothing.”

“Gregori's arm moved from around her waist to circle her neck, a male gesture of ownership. Savannah laughed to herself. Carpathian men were not far from the cave.I caught that, mon amour. Gregori's soft voice brushed at her mind, a low caress that curled warmth in her stomach. He sounded close to teasing, but she noticed he didn't drop his arm from around her neck.”