“She would never tell him and was ashamed to admit it, even to herself, but she’d fallen in love with him the instant she’d seen him. She’d been taken at gunpoint to the alleyway outside a gallery showing her paintings and had seen a powerful man, not tall but immensely broad. He was facing three armed thugs and he hadn’t looked frightened at all.He’d looked dangerous.And she’d fallen.”

“Her hand lifted without any volition on her part, as if it were the hand itself that wanted to be held by his. He gently grasped it in both hands, instead of the impersonal handshake she’d been expecting. His hands were as hot as a furnace. Slowly, watching her every second, he brought her hand to his mouth and—oh my God—kissed it.Something inside her, something she’d never even suspected existed, pinged to life. Heat, excitement . . . desire.”

“They had a fabulous sex life. Drake was an attentive, tender lover who took his time in pleasing her. But every once in a while something in him changed and she caught a glimpse of the truly dangerous man he really was. She hadn’t tamed him, not one bit. He just chose to show her a tender side he said he’d only discovered with her.But sometimes the tiger in him growled and clawed its way to the surface. And then the sex was incandescent.”

“With any other man, Claire would have been a little afraid, his expression was so fierce and dangerous-looking. She wasn’t frightened. This was Bud. He would never hurt her. “Why are you asking?”Bud shifted his hips, pushing forward, moving even more deeply into her. “I want you to be comfortable,” he whispered, “because this is the position you’re going to be in for a long, long while.” His gaze held hers. “I’m going to f#ck you all night.”

“Why hadn’t the Woman in Black called for Raphael? Mathilde’s idea that she’d stopped looking for him seemed out of keeping with most ghoststories; ghosts didn’t change their behavior, did they?Whatever the reason, Caitlyn was glad of it. Raphael was hers, and she didn’t want to share him. She hated the idea of a long-lost lover roamingthe halls of the castle, looking for him. It meant there was someone else in his life.She was, she realized, jealous.That’s stupid! How can I be jealous of a ghost, over a guy who might not even exist?And yet, there was no other word for what she felt. Since the moment she’d seen Raphael riding in the valley, her heart had claimed him as herKnight of Cups”

“She stepped closer to him, closer still, until her breasts touched his jacket, watching his eyes all the time. “My darling Jack.” She lifted herself up on tiptoe and awkwardly kissed the side of his mouth. “I’m yours. You know that.”His control broke. His hands fisted in her hair and he kissed her hard, almost savagely. He knew he was bruising her mouth but he couldn’t stop himself. It was as if her mouth were giving him life. He would stay alive as long as he was kissing her.”

“He squinted at her. He recalled the tears in her eyes that had not fallen into her teacup. No, it wasn’t a revelation. Not even to him. Yet, this was the same woman who had stolen a camel right out from under the Anti-Zionist army’s nose. She’d taken his hand, thrown herself down a sand dune on a dare, and then beaten him back up it. She’d glared at him and refused to part from his side. A coward? “Never,” he said again.”