“Swallowing hard, she looked at him.He raised his eyes from the frothy concoction on his spoon at the precise moment she looked up, and their gazeslocked over the length of the polished wood table. Where would you drip whipped cream on him, Lisa? The answercame with frightening swiftness and conviction: Everywhere. She wanted to explore his body, the hard ripples, the smooth skin. The candlelight bathed his olive skin with a golden hue, and his dark good looks were set off perfectly by his linen shirt and the splash of black and crimson draped across his chest. He was mesmerizing."Are you hungry, lass?" He licked his spoon languidly. She couldn't tear her gaze away. "No. I've eaten quiteenough," she managed."You seem to be watching my dessert most intently. Are you certain there isn't something else you wish to sate your appetite?"Besides you to remove your clothing, lie on the table, and let me finger paint you with whipped cream, you mean?"Nope," she said casually. "Not a thing." She watched him for a moment; he still had a great deal of dessert left. How was she going to get through this?”

“I am so lonely without you, Aedan," Jane said simply."You truly want me?""More than anything. I'm only half without you.""Then you are my woman." His words were finality, a bond he would not permit broken. She had given herself to his keeping. He would never let her go."And you'll never leave me?" she pressed."I'll stay with you for all of ever, lass."Jane's eyes flared, and she looked at him strangely. "And then yet another day?" she asked breathlessly."Oh, aye.”

“Nope,” she managed. “No other questions.”Eleven centuries of captivity. Hung on his hated enemy’s study wall. Eleven centuries of not touching. Not eating. Not loving. Had he had anyone to talkto?Her face must have betrayed her thoughts, for he startled her by saying softly, “ ’Tis no longer ofconsequence, lass, but thank you for the compassion. ’Tis nigh over. Seventeen more days, Jessica. That’s all.”For some reason his words brought a sudden hot burn of tears to the backs of her eyes. Not only hadn’t eleven centuries turned him into a monster, he was trying to soothe her, to make her feel better about his imprisonment.“You weep for me, woman?”She turned away. “It’s been a long day. Hell, it’s been a long week.”“Jessica.” Her name was a soft command.She disobeyed it, staring out the window at the rolling hills.“Jessica, look at me.”Eyes bright with unshed tears, she whipped her head around and glared at him. “I weep for you, okay?” she snapped. “For eleven centuries stuck in there. Can I start driving again or do you need something else?”He smiled faintly, raised his hand, and splayed his palm against the inside of the silvery glass. Without an ounce of conscious thought, her hand rose tomeet his, aligning on the cool silver,palm to palm, finger to finger, thumb to thumb. And though she felt only a cold hardness beneath her palm, the gesture made something go all warm and soft in her heart.Neither of them spoke or moved for a moment.”

“Circenn moved swiftly, intending to catch the tear upon his finger, kiss it away, then kiss away all her pain and fear, and assure her that he would permit no harm to touch her and would spend his life making things up to her; but she dropped the flask onto the table and turned swiftly. "Please, leave me alone," she said and turned away from him. "Let me comfort you, Lisa," he entreated."Leave me alone."For the first time in his life, Circennfelt utterly helpless. Let her grieve, his heart instructed. She would need to grieve, for discovering that the flask didn't work was tantamount to lowering her mother into a solitary grave. She would grieve her mother as if she'd in truth died that very day. May Godforgive me, he prayed. I did not know what I was doing when I cursed that flask.”

“Gwen smiled and asked hopefully, "Is there coffee again this morning?"Silvan put his book down and glanced absently at Gwen. His gaze dropped to her cleavage, and a single white brow shot up. He blinked several times."There certainly is," Nell said, circling the table. She stopped behind Gwen and draped a linen cloth over her shoulders, so it tumbled from her neck like a bib."Peel yer eyes off the lass's breasts," Nell said sweetly to Silvan.Gwen turned twenty shades of red, sneaked a hand beneath the bib, and tugged at her bodice, trying to jiggle them back down a little. Mortified, she devoted her attention to eyeing the medieval dining ware-plates and goblets made of heavy silver, a fat spoon and broad knife, and heavy blue bowls."She's the one who fluffed them up," Silvan protested indignantly. "I didn't mean to look, but they were ... so ... there. Like trying not to see the sun in the sky."Nell arched a brow and circled round the table again."I hardly think 'twas ye she fluffed 'em for, was it lass?" Gwen glanced up and gave an embarrassed shake of her head.”

“Although Jillian had known what Grimm was before that moment, she was briefly immobilized by the sight of him. It was one thing to know that the man she loved was a Berserker-it was another thing entirely to behold it. He regarded her with such an inhuman expression that if she hadn't peered deep into his eyes, she might have seen nothing of Grimm at all. But there, deep in the flickering blue flames, she glimpsed such love that it rocked her soul. She smiled up at him through her tears.A wounded sound of disbelief escaped him.Jillian gave him the most dazzling smile she could muster and placed her fist to her heart. "And the daughter wed the lion king," she said clearly.An expression of incredulity crossed the warrior's face. His blue eyes widened and he stared at her in stunned silence."I love you, Gavrael McIllioch."When he smiled, his face blazed with love. He tossed his head back and shouted his joy to the sky.”

“He strips his shirt over his head and I catch my breath, watching those long hard muscles ripple. I know how his shoulders look, bunched, when he's on top of me, how his face gets tight with lust, as he eases inside me. "Who am I?""Jericho""Who are you?" He kicks off his boots, steps out of his pants. He's commando tonight.My breath whooshes out of me in a run-on word: "Whogivesafuck?”