“Call me Jack, darling. All the pretty girls call me Jack."Finley rolled her eyes.Emily grinned at him, bright eyes sparkling. "No doubt they call you many things, some of which they might even repeat in polite company.""You come here to talk or flirt?" Sam demanded.Jack smiled. "Unlike you, mate, I'm able to do two fings at once.”

“Blokes are different from girls," Sam informed her - still scowling. "We don't need to talk about every little thing. You don't hear me whining when I break a nail."Finley's own brows pulled together. "Do you ever think before you open your mouth?""Did I offend your delicate sensibilities?" Sam asked sweetly.”

“Finely dropped her head, squeezed her eyes shut and began silently to do what some might call praying, she called it begging.”

“What I want from you,” he said, and Finley braced herself, “is your trust. Irrevocable and unshakable. I want you to put your life in my hands, and I want to be able to do the same without hesitation.” Disturbed to her very soul, Finley could only shake her head. “You ask too much.” Put his life in her hands? He was deranged! A bedlamite for certain. A crooked grin curved his mouth. “Too much? You strange and wonderful girl, that is the least I’ll ask of you.”

“Disturbed to her very soul, Finley could only shake her head. "You ask too much."A crooked grin curved his mouth. "Too much? You strange and wonderful girl, that is the least I'll ask of you.”

“I won't keep you from your beauty rest for long, Jack," Finley shot back as she strode into the drawing room. (...)"I should 'ope not, luv. It takes a lot of rest to be this gorgeous.”

“Dandy?" Sam was full-on scowling now. "What the hell does that scoundrel want?"Finley returned his dark expression with one of her own. "You shouldn't use words you can't spell, mutton head.”