“He wanted to change her past, but even as he thought it, he realizedit was her very past that had shaped her into a woman who fascinatedhim.”

“He was lying in bed with the woman he loved . . . a woman he couldn't make love to. He closed his eyes. More than any­thing in this world, he wanted this woman to be happy. He'd give her anything, do anything to make her happy. Even if it made his own life hell.”

“He cradled her face between his hands, angled his mouth over hers, and welcomed the bliss she offered. Boldly, she gave her tongue the freedom to roam within his mouth. She sighed. He moaned.He thought a man could become spoiled touching a woman. He might never want to touch stone again. Stone wasn't warm. It didn't alter its shape with the gentlest of pressures. Stone didn't breathe so he could feel its moisture on his face. Rocks didn't make soft sounds that he'd carry with him until the day he died.”

“Honeysuckle. She smelled of honeysuckle. He thought about her pert little nose. He'd wanted to smile every time she tilted it to demonstrate her disdain toward him. If her obvious hatred for him hadn't been so great, hadn't hurt so badly, he might have smiled.”

“Has any woman ever touched you?" she asked as she splayed her fingers over his thigh."No.""Do you want a woman to touch you?""No."She stilled, and Clay pushed himself up. He cradled her check in his palm. "I want you to touch me.”

“You must love her very much to be willing to do all this.” He twisted his head slightly and held her gaze. “I’m not doing anything for her that I’ve not done for her before.”

“Please," Meg whispered. "I don't want any trouble here."He released his hold on her. As though she might say something further, she parted her lips slightly. Then she walked out of the church."Touch her again, and I'll kill you," Daniel said.Clay wondered if he should tell her brother that he'd be doing him a favor if he killed him… because his heart had just died.”