“But Benedict Bridgerton was obviously determined not to be a gentleman this afternoon, because when she moved one of her feet-just to flex her toes, which were falling asleep in her shoes, honest!-barely half a second passed before he growled, "Don't even think about it.""I wasn't!" she protested. "My foot was falling asleep. And hurry up! It can't possibly take so long to get dressed.""Oh?" he drawled."You're doing this just to torture me," she grumbled."You may feel free to face me at any time," he said, his voice laced with quiet amusement. "I assure you that I asked you to turn your back for the sake of your sensibilities, not mine.”

“Mr. Bridgerton?" she asked softly. "Mr. Bridgerton!" Benedict's head jerked up violently."What? What?""You fell asleep."He blinked confusedly. "Is there a reason that's bad?""You can't fall asleep in your clothing.”

“I don't like you, Park," she said, sounding for a second like she actually meant it. "I..." - her voice nearly disappeared - "think I live for you."He closed his eyes and pressed his head back into his pillow."I don't think I even breathe when we're not together," she whispered. "Which means, when I see you on Monday morning, it's been like sixty hours since I've taken a breath. That's probably why I'm so crabby, and why I snap at you. All I do when we're apart is think about you, and all I do when we're together is panic. Because every second feels so important. And because I'm so out of control, I can't help myself. I'm not even mine anymore, I'm yours, and what if you decide that you don't want me? How could you want me like I want you?"He was quiet. He wanted everything she'd just said to be the last thing he heard. He wanted to fall asleep with 'I want you' in his ears.”

“Tell me you don't love me."Laurel's mouth moved, but she said nothing."Tell me," he said, his voice sharp and demanding. "Tell me David is all you need or want in your life." His face was closer to her, his soft breath caressing her face. "That you never think of me when you're kissing him. That you don't dream about me the way I dream about you.Tell me you don't love me."She looked up at him,desperation consuming her. Her mouth felt dry, parched, and the words she tried to force out wouldn't come."You can't even say it," he said, his arms pulling her in now instead of holding her steady. "Then love me, Laurel. Just love me!”

“Will you let me lift you?" he said. "Just let me lift you. Just let me see how light you are." "All right," she said. "Do you want me to take off my coat?""Yes, yes, yes," he said. "Take off your coat."She stood. She let her coat fall to the sofa."Can I do it now?" he said."Yes."He put his hands under her arms. He raised her off the floor and then put her down gently. "Oh you're so light!" he shouted. "Your'e so light, you're so fragile, you don't weigh any more than a suitcase. Why, I could carry you, I could carry you anywhere, I could carry you from one end of New York to the other." He got his hat and coat and ran out of the house.”

“She turned her head slightly, relieved that she could do so, and found Dragon not asleep or at least drowsily replete, as he should have been—oh no, not he—but wide awake, propped up on an elbow, and looking at her with what appeared suspiciously to be amusement.“I don’t think you are human,” she said sulkily.He grinned. “I felt like a god a few moments ago, but that’s to your credit, not mine.”