“If it had not been for Father Morrell's timely arrival and subsequent pressure for all to be present at his sermon,Bronwyn would have remained in her room perfectly miserable,though claiming to be content.”

“I'm sorry this trip has been so difficult.""It could be worse. We could be enduring Father Morrell's celebration of the Eucharist."Bronwyn's jaw dropped and she turned in his arms to see if Ranulf was serious. He was.”

“The moment the door slipped away beneath Ranulf's fist as she opened it, his heart had stopped.It had been racing with anticipation, but the second he saw her,he froze and stared, in shcok. A pink crease line ran down her cheek. "You've been sleeping!" he bellowed, barging his way into the room. All this time, he had been frantic, concerned that Bronwyn was upset with him, worried about her feelings...and instead of weeping inconsolably,she had been blissfully unconscious.”

“There are things that happen and leave no discernible trace, are not spoken or written of, though it would be very wrong to say that subsequent events go on indifferently, all the same, as though such things had never been.”

“As soon as the words presented themselves, Gabriel knew that they were perfect for him. Perfect for what he was contemplating doing to her. Perfect for his own self-justification.Tasting. Taking. Sucking. Sinning. Draining. Abandoning.She was pure. She was innocent. He wanted her.Facilis descensus Averni.But he would not be the one to make her bleed. He could not, would not, make another girl bleed for the rest of his life. All thoughts of seduction and mad, passionate f*cking on desks and chairs, against walls and bookshelves and windows, immediately gave way. He would not take her. He would not mark her and claim what he had no right to claim.”

“So if it wasn't fear or embarrassment,then it had to have been pride spurring her abrupt departure...and her parting words. At least,it better have been,because whether Bronwyn knew it or not, he was the last man she would ever know or touch.”