“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.”

“A synonym is a word you use when you can't spell the other one.”

“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.”

“A synonym is a word you use when you can't spell the word you first thought of.”

“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.”

“She could hear in the darkness of her car how his breathing was quicker now; and her own was, too. She wanted to say their hears were too old for this now; you can't keep doing this to a heart, can't keep expecting your heart to pull through.”