“But Harry . . . even if we had met and married three years ago, you’d still say it wasn’t enough time.”“You’re right. I can’t think of a single day of my life that wouldn’t have been improved with you in it.”“Darling,” she whispered, her fingertips coming up to stroke his jaw, “that’s lovely. Even more romantic than comparing me to watch parts.”Harry nipped at her finger. “Are you mocking me?”“Not at all,” Poppy said, smiling. “I know how you feel about gears and mechanisms.”

“He caressed the side of her jaw with his fingertips, sending a light shiver down her spine. "I should warn you that if we lose the paper, we'll have to sell the house.” “That’s fine.” “And the furniture.” “I don’t care.” “And—“ “We can pawn, sell, and trade off everything we own… but if you dare say one thing about my diamond, you’ll regret it for the rest of your married life. This ring is mine, and it's not leaving my finger." He grinned at her vehemence. "I wasn’t going to say anything about your ring, honey.” Bending down to kiss her, he left wet handprints on the waist and bodice of her gown, but Lucy was too enthralled by his hearty kiss to protest. "You taste like coffee," she whispered when his lips left hers. "I could do with more." "Coffee or kisses?" "Always more kisses . . .”

“I don’t want to be a widow, I don’t want Michael Bayning, and I don’t want you to joke about such things, you tactless clodpole!”As all three of them stared at her openmouthed, Poppy leapt up and stalked away, her hands drawn into fists.Bewildered by the immediate force of her fury—it was like being stung by a butterfly—Harry stared after her dumbly. After a moment, he asked the first coherent thought that came to him. “Did she just say she doesn’t want Bayning?”“Yes,” Win said, a smile hovering on her lips. “That’s what she said. Go after her, Harry.”Every cell in Harry’s body longed to comply. Except that he had the feeling of standing on the edge of a cliff, with one ill-chosen word likely to send him over. He gave Poppy’s sister a desperate glance. “What should I say?”“Be honest with her about your feelings,” Win suggested.A frown settled on Harry’s face as he considered that. “What’s my second option?”

“Amelia stopped before him, her skirts crowded between his parted knees. The clean, salty, evergreen scent of him drifted to her nostrils. “I have a proposition for you,” she said, trying for a businesslike tone. “A very sensible one. You see—” She paused to clear her throat. “I’ve been thinking about your problem.” “What problem?” Cam played lightly with the folds of her skirts, watching her face alertly. “Your good-luck curse. I know how to get rid of it. You should marry into a family with very, very bad luck. A family with expensive problems. And then you won’t have to be embarrassed about having so much money, because it will flow out nearly as fast as it comes in." "Very sensible.” Cam took her shaking hand in his, pressed it between his warm palms. And touched his foot to her rapidly tapping one. “Hummingbird,” he whispered, “you don’t have to be nervous with me.” Gathering her courage, Amelia blurted out, “I want your ring. I want never to take it off again. I want to be your romni forever”—she paused with a quick, abashed smile—“whatever that is.” “My bride. My wife.” Amelia froze in a moment of throat-clenching delight as she felt him slide the gold ring onto her finger, easing it to the base. “When we were with Leo, tonight,” she said scratchily, “I knew exactly how he felt about losing Laura. He told me once that I couldn’t understand unless I had loved someone that way. He was right. And tonight, as I watched you with him . . . I knew what I would think at the very last moment of my life.” His thumb smoothed over the tender surface of her knuckle. “Yes, love?” "I would think,” she continued,” ‘Oh, if I could have just one more day with Cam. I would fit a lifetime into those few hours.”

“Do you know what a balance wheel is?” She shook her head slightly. “There’s one in every clock or watch. It rotates back and forth without stopping. It’s what makes the ticking sound...what makes the hands move forward to mark the minutes. Without it, the watch wouldn’t work. You’re my balance wheel, Poppy.” -Harry Rutledge”

“When she awakened, Hunter was watching her with eyes like dark velvet."You're the last woman I'll ever make love to," he said, stroking her breast, toying with the rosy peak. She stroked his sun-streaked hair and the hard nape of his neck, loving the feel of him against her."Good," she whispered. "Keep me with you, Lara. I don't want to leave you.”

“Leo smiled and stroked her hair. 'We'll both be fine, Marks. We've just begun our journey...and there's so much we have yet to do.' He spoke more softly as he heard her breathing turn even and steady. 'Rest against my heart. Let me watch over your dreams. And know that tomorrow morning, and every morning after that, you'll awaken next to someone who loves you.''Dodger?' she mumbled against his chest, and he grinned.'No, your confounded ferret will have to stay in his basket. I was referring to myself.''Yes, I know.' Catherine slid her hand up to his cheek. 'Only you,' she said. 'Always you.”