“You mean we won't get to run through burning buildings?" I could see he wanted to laugh, but instead he watched me intently. "What? Why are you staring at me?" "I'm not staring. I'm observing."I smiled through my tears. "And what do you observe?"He brushed his lips against my ear. "A brave young woman who has always fought for what was right, even when it was unpopular. A woman who can't return to the land of her birth, but is wlcome to cross the seas and rebuild Alexandria in mine. And a woman who has suffered enough in Rome and deserves happiness for a change. Will you come to Mauretania and be my queen?"He drew back to look at me, but I held him closer. "Yes.""Just yes?"I nodded and pressed my lips against his.”

“I'm not staring. I'm observing. . . . And what do you observe? . . . A brave young woman who has always fought for what was right, even when it was unpopular.”

“I am interested in you, Gretchen." When I still won't look at him, he presses his fingers against my jaw and gently turns my face. He is looking straight in my eyes when he says, "I'm interested in you."His midnight blues burn with an intensity that almost makes me believe him. Makes me want to believe him. He knows just the right thing to say to mess with my mind. He always has. He leans closer, watching me. His lips are a breath away from mine.This time I'm not buying it.My knee connects with his soft spot and he doubles over, gasping for air."Find your own way home," I snap before turning and marching back to my car.”

“This is where you belong, Calla.” He pulled me closer, tilting my chin up. “Be with me. Tell me it’s what you want.”I couldn’t tear my eyes from his. “What I want?”“Yes. Anything, everything you need, I’ll give you. Always. I promise. Just tell me one thing.”“What?”“That you want this, us.” His voice dropped so low I could barely hear him. “That someday you’ll love me.”My hands began to tremble where they rested around his neck. “Ren, you know we’re going to be together. We’ve both known that for a long time.”He gave me a hard look. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”“Why are you asking me this?” I tried to pull back, but he held me against him.The glimmer of a smile appeared on his lips. “Why not?”My temper flared. “Are you trying to say that you love me?”I meant it as a challenge rather than a serious question, but his eyes seemed to catch fire.“What do you think?” He touched his lips to mine, softly at first, gradually building pressure, parting them.”

“What did I do? Who did I please to get this lucky?" He pulls his lips from my neck and stares at me with wonder. "Are you for real?”

“Thank you for getting me," I try to say. My lips are so tired they don't want to move."Anytime,Zara.Really.I mean it." He seems to be smelling my hair."I know you hate me and everything but we should be friends," I tell him, closing my eyes."I don't hate you," he says. "That's not it at all.""What is it then? Are you a victim of parthenophobia?""Parthenophobia?""Fear of girls.""You are so strange." He moves back even closer to me, this wicked glint in his eyes like he's trying hard not to snort-laugh at me. His hand presses against the side of my head. Nobody has ever touched me like this before, all gentle and romantic, but strong at the same time. "I'm not afraid of girls.""Then why haven't you kissed any?"For a second his eyes flash. "Maybe the right one hasn't come around yet.”