“He focused on the inspector, instead, though she didn't want him watching her. But Rhys liked the way she looked, particularly when her expression suggested that she'd prefer to have a gun aimed at his head rather than sit across from him in a private railcar.”

“He didn't answer. Instead he cupped her face in his hands and drew her towards him. Then he kissed her lightly on the lips. Oh god, she wanted his head between her legs and she wanted it now.”

“He didn't go down to dinner at all that night, didn't eat, didn't drink, simply thought of his wife, trying to decide what to do with her. He'd wanted her to suffer, and she'd suffered. He'd wanted her to pay for her deceits, and she'd saved his life. He'd wanted to torment her with the knowledge that she would never see him again and had instead created his own private hell. He wanted her to come to him again, giving herself to him as she had that night before her attempted escape, and he wanted to hear words she would never speak. He'd even started lying to himself as he lay sleepless in his bed, reliving each moment of their last night together, telling himself it was real, that she'd meant every word. He was going mad.”

“Marylou was watching Dean as she had watched him clear across the country and back, out of the corner of her eye--with a sullen, sad air, as though she wanted to cut off his head and hide it in her closet, an envious and rueful love of him so amazingly himself, all raging and sniffy and crazy-wayed, a smile of tender dotage but also sinister envy that frightened me about her, a love she knew would never bear fruit because when she looked at his hangjawed bony face with its male self-containment and absentmindedness she knew he was too mad.”

“When his hard hand cupped her face, an involuntary shiver raced up her spine, but she made no objection Then his lips were on hers.It wasn’t what she expected. Instead of hot demand, there was testing, tasting. He shaped her lips with his, tilting his head this way and that, as though searching for the best angle. Her heart pounding, she conceded they were all good. But she wanted more. Without thought, she opened her mouth against his.She sensed him stiffen, but instead of deepening the kiss, he started to pull back. Abandoning any pretense that she didn’t want this, hadn’t thought about it since the first moment she’d laid eyes on him, she caught his head and really kissed him.”

“Or had she always loved him? It's likely. Restricted as she was from speaking, she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to drag her hand across and pull her over. It didn't matter where. Her mouth, her neck, her cheek. Her skin was empty for it, waiting.”