“I just had his hand in a vise,” I protested indignantly. “It wasn’t like I had a dagger in his ribs. ‘Hand in a vise’ is simple assault or, in my case, self-defense. ‘Dagger in the ribs’ is attempted murder. My family did teach me the difference.”

“I took his hand, and suddely he yanked me―too roughly―right off the bed so that I thudded against his chest."Just in case," he muttered against my hair, crushing me in a bear hug that about to broke my ribs."Can't―breathe!" I gasped.”

“I wrapped my hands around his ribs as he kissed me passionately. There were no cameras, no directors, no witnesses - just Ryan and I and our raw, unscripted emotions.”

“That was my favorite dagger."She had a favorite dagger? Seriously? And she thought that I was a freak.”

“My heart is a protest that I let rally against my ribs.”

“I ripped my left arm out of his hand and slammed my elbow into his solar plexus. He exhaled in a gasp. I lunged for the dagger and sat on top of him, my knees pinning his arms, my dagger on his throat.He lay still. “I give up,” he said and smiled. “Your move.”Er. I was sitting atop the Beast Lord in my underwear, holding a knife to his throat. What the hell was my next move?”