“He couldn’t look back at the children. He couldn’t think of it. All he could do was watch the eyes of his wife.He pulled her to him, her body soft, her skin warm. She was life, she was his. He took her lips and tasted his freedom once more. The subtle tenderness. The hope hidden in joined breath. He took it into himself. Soaking in the peace that came with it. And even as the rustling began he felt still, he felt calm. Scratching and scrapping within the stones, and the rustle of wings. But all Eli knew was the nature of love.”

“Her hands brushed Shane's, and he let go of the cards and took hold.And then somehow she was in his lap, and he was kissing her. Hadn't meant to do that but...well. She couldn't exactly be sorry about it, because he tasted amazing, and his lips were so soft and his hands were so strong...He leaned back, eyes half shut, and he was smiling. Shane didn't smile all that much, and it always left her breathless and tingling. There was a secrecy about it like he only ever smiled at her, and it just felt... perfect. 'Claire, you're being careful right?' He smoothed hair back from her face. 'Seriously. You'd tell me if you got into trouble?''No trouble,' She lied, thinking about Monica's not-so veiled threats, and that glimpse of Shane's dad seated across from Oliver in the coffee shop.'No trouble at all.''Good.' He kissed her again, then moved down her jawline to her neck, and, wow neck nibbles took her breath away. She closed her eyes and buried her fingers in his warm hair, trying to tell him through every touch how much she liked this, like him, loved...Her eyes came open, fast. She did not just think about that.Shane’s warm hands moved up her sides, thumbs grazing the sides of her breasts again, and he traced his fingers across the thin skin of her collarbone...down to where the neck of her T-shirt stopped him. Teasing. Pulling it down an inch, then two.And then, maddeningly, he let go and leaned back, lips damp. He licked them, watching her, and then gave her that slow crazy, sexy smile again.'Go to bed' he said. 'Before I decide to come with.”

“He looked down at himself and laughed softly. ‘‘My dark side dresses better than I do.’’ He stood upand reached for clothes folded neatly on a table to the side as he loosened the tie on his robe. He hesitated, smiled, and raised hiseyebrows. ‘‘If you don’t mind, Claire . . . ?’’‘‘Oh. Sorry.’’ Claire turned her back. She didn’t like turning her back on him, even with the cell door locked. He was betterbehaved when he knew she was watching. She focused on the faint, distorted image of his reflection on the TV screen as he shedthe dressing gown and began to pull on his clothing. She couldn’t see much, except that he was very pale all over. Once she wassure his pants were up, she glanced behind her. He had his back to her, and she couldn’t help but compare him with the only otherman she’d really studied half-naked. Shane was broad, strong, solid. Myrnin looked fragile, but his muscles moved like cablesunder that pale skin—far stronger than Shane’s, she knew.Myrnin turned as he buttoned his shirt. ‘‘It’s been a while since a pretty girl looked at me with such interest,’’ he said. She lookedaway, feeling the blush work its heat up through her neck and onto her cheeks. ‘‘It’s all right, Claire. I’m not offended.”

“Her fingers dug into the flesh of his hips as his own passion peaked. His face was buried in her neck and her skin felt his rapid, moist breath as he chanted her name.He didn’t leave her. He couldn’t forsake the paradise just yet. Nestled within her body, he raised himself on his elbows and looked down at her. Tenderly he kissed each feature of her face.“Is this possible?” she breathed, referring to the enormity of her rapture.“Yes, yes,” he murmured against her lips.He raised his head and his eyes searched her face once again. His expression was difficult to define, but it closely resembled love.”

“He was ridiculously gorgeous, even with bed-head--maybe because of it. It made her sick--like violently, ill. He could at least be polite and have some scars, a third nipple, or a low-hanging ear on the side of his head.But no. He was perfect and adorable and in her bed. And, oh yeah, she felt like punching the shit out of him.”

“When they finally left the shed, he reached out to stop her before she headed back to her house. He pulled her close and began to kiss her. First her lips, then her cheek, and then her neck. Her skin was like fire, as if she'd been lying in the sun for hours, and when he kissed her lips again, he felt her fold her body into his. He buried his hands in her hair, continuing to kiss her as he slowly backed her against the wall of the workshop. He loved her, he wanted her, and as they continued to kiss, he could feel her arms moving over his back and shoulders. Her touch was electric against his skin, her breath hot against his, and he felt himself slipping away to a place governed only by his senses.”

“The men stop coming after Hunt goes missing. We learned from the last brave soul to visit that they whispered all sorts of stories to answer his disappearance. My favorite is that we ate him. We cooked him up with our whore-earned corn, a dozen rats’ eyes, and a bat wing. Even I couldn’t have thought of anything more perfect.”