“What are you doing here?" she asked."You forgot something when you left Halstead Hall," he said hoarsely."What?"Her heart lept into her throat as he strode purposefully toward her. "Me.”

“What are you doing?""What I've wanted to do for a long time."She couldn't move, couldn't think. She was lost in his dark eyes, and as he slowly lowered his head toward hers, she whispered, "Are you going to throttle me, then?"He was laughing when he kissed her.”

“Do you think you might be able to love me someday?" He asked and heard her laugh softly."I already do." She said and his soul soared. "So this is what the poets write about? This is what they call love?" She asked."Yes my love." He said softly."They do not do it justice." She stated and he laughed."I agree." He told her as he held her, wondering how this could be real.”

“He said you were frigid?” She nodded. “Oh, honey, that word should be stricken from every dictionary in existence. There is no such thing. Just men who don’t know what they’re doing.” He leaned toward her, kissed her throat, and said, “I’m not one of them.”

“Gregory,” she said, “you cannot leave me here. What if someone finds you and removes you from the house? Who will know I am here? And what if…and what if…and then what if…”He smiled, enjoying her officiousness too much to actually listen to her words. She was definitely herself again.“When this is all over,” he said, “I shall bring you a sandwich.”That stopped her short. “A sandwich? A sandwich?”

“You really want to know what else it was my mom said about you?" he asked.She shook her head.He didn't seem to notice. "She said you'd break my heart," he told her, and left.”