“He'd forget all that, just as he would forget this night.The memories would linger for a time, but they'd grow dull. The ache he felt now, the frustation and anger and sorrow - all those would fade too.She'd given him a night to remember, but of course he'd forget.”

“He had relieved whores beyond counting of frocks, stays, chemises, garters, and stockings. He had never before in his life unbuttoned a gently bred maiden's glove. He'd committed salacious acts beyond number. He'd never before felt so depraved as he did now, as the last pearl came free and he drew the soft kid down, baring her wrist, and his dark fingers grazed the delicate skin he'd exposed.”

“It's about time you saw how fortunate you are. You have ... the most virile man in the world." He grinned, and in his eyes, black as sin, she saw the devil inside him laughing. But he was her devil, and she loved him madly."The most conceited, you mean," she said. He bent his head until his great Usignuolo nose loomed as inch from hers, "The most virile, " he repeated firmly. "You are pathetically slow if you haven't learned that by now. Fortunately for you, I am the most patient of tutors. I shall prove it to you.""You patience?" she asked."My virility. Both. Repeatedly." His black eyes glinted. "I will teach you a lesson you'll never forget. "She tangled her fingers in his hair and brought his mouth to hers. "My wicked darling," she whispered. "I should like to see you try.”

“They were perfectly suited. They would speak of books the livelong day and night and bore everyone else but themselves to distraction.”

“Good God!" she cried. She rolled off him, tugging down her clothing. "Are you mad?"He blinked and dragged in air. "Well, yes," he said thickly. "Lust does that to a man.""You thought we could-you would-do...that? In public?"I wasn't thinking about where we were."Her eyes widened."I'm a man," he said with what he was sure must be, in the circumstances, saintly patience. "I can do one or the other. Lovemaking or thinking. But not both at the same time.”

“Oh, good,” he muttered. “We’re going to discuss it now.”“No discussion,” she said. Her mind was quite clear now, as though a fire had blazed through it, burning away all confusion. “It’s perfectly simple. No One MustEver Know.”He came up onto one elbow and looked at her. “Do you know,” he said, “I can hear those five words in italics. Capitalized.”

“But you are a charming and beautiful dunces, madame. And,” he continued in French, “a charming and beautiful womancan get away with murder. Can you imagine that any man here would prosecute you for assassinating our language?”