“Taye stood looking at her, waiting for her to let go of his hand….She quickly withdrew her hand and shoved it in her jeans pocket….Great, so much for acting normal”

“She shoved her hands in the deep silk-lined pockets…where she felt the cold steel of a revolver.”

“Jacks stood beside her. Instead of saying anything, she felt his fingers trace up her palm and then lace into hers. He had taken her hand before, quickly and for functional reasons—usually to drag her off to someplace she didn’t want to go—but he had never held her hand. Not the way couples did in parks or lovers did in old movies. Maddy stood there and felt the heat of his grip. It made her think of that first night in the diner, when they had talked about pretend memories and she had felt so connected to him.”

“She stood, moved to stand in front of him, and held out her hand. “Thanks so much for fixing my hip and helping me.”He lifted a brow as he glanced from her hand to her face. “Sit down. You’re not going anywhere.”

“His hand around hers was strong and warm, and in spite of her confusion and hesitation, she never wanted to let go.”

“There was an infinitesimal pause while he watched her face, as though he half expected her to recognise it, before he went on, 'My friends call me Thorn,' and gave her a smile of such devastating charm that she blinked.Her hand clasped in his, her senses zinging from his touch and that stunning smile, she stared into his dark, handsome face until, realising that she was gawking at him like some overgrown schoolgirl, she withdrew her hand and asked quickly, 'What do your enemies call you?”