“He looked between the plate of muffins he swore just moved and her tee shirt that needed to be incinerated and shook his head. "I'm truly at a loss for words here," he muttered.”

“He shook his head and looked away, as if he was giving himself a firm lecture only he could here.”

“His head dropped to watch his thumb move over my fingers as he muttered, “Naked, baby.”My head twitched at his weird word.“Pardon?”His eyes came to mine and he repeated, “Naked.”I felt my brows draw together and I asked, “Naked?”He held my gaze even as he moved...”

“He shook his head and eyed Roarke. "You don't look like a cop.""I'm not and thank you for noticing.”

“Do you need someone to talk to?" she said gently. "Oh. Thank you. No, no, I'm fine." He touched his face – he'd been crying harder than he'd realized. "You sure? You don't look fine." "No, really. I've just . . . I've just had a very intense emotional experience." He held out one of his iPod headphones, as if that would explain it. "On here." "You're crying about music?" The woman looked at him as if he were some kind of pervert. "Well," said Duncan. "I'm not crying about it. I'm not sure that's the right preposition." She shook her head and walked off.”

“He turned to look at the door and narrowed his eyes. So, Rule Number One, apparently, was that he wasn’t allowed to crack a smile during foreplay. “Got it,” he muttered to himself as he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side before stepping up to the door and throwing it open.”