“He leaned back for a moment to tug her shirt down her arms, with the same wicked, lovley smile that had first stolen her breath years ago.”

“And he smiled at her, truely smiled- wicked and lovely...”

“He held her gaze as he lowered his head toward her. He didn't kiss her though--just leaned kissably close and asked, "Will you let me take you in my arms... for a dance, Leslie?”

“If he took her into his arms, he would keep her. He wouldn't let her suffer the way the other mortals had when he'd left them. He would keep her, with his court's permission or without it. Irial wouldn't take her, and Keenan wouldn't stand between them.”

“He reached out and caressed her face. With a serious expression, he traced the edge of her jaw with his thumb. "You‘re beautiful, Ani. In all of eternity, there‘s never been another faery who could make me want to forget everything and everyone else.""Because you like the way I look?" She rolled her eyes. "Apparently, my dream mind is shallow.""No, not the exterior. You… the tempers and follies and passion… even the way you care for that infuriating steed."Devlin gazed at her like she was precious. "Even knowing you could be fatal, I would‘ve said yes."Her chest hurt like she had held her breath too long as she asked, "To?""Whatever you wanted." He didn‘t reach out and pull her into his embrace. Instead, he took one step forward, leaned down, and kissed her.”

“Without stopping kissing her, he swept her up into his arms. They stood in the motel lobby kissing until someone called, "Get a room."Donia pulled back and laughed. "That was the plan. They said no.”

“He pulled something out of his pocket and tried to stick it in her arm. A needle. He'd offered her hope, but then he was trying to hurt her. Poison. She pushed him away. "That wasn't nice.”