“You may find this hard to believe, Mr. Pinter," she went on defensively, "but some men enjoy my company. They consider me easy to talk to."A ghost of a smile touched his handsome face. "You're right. I do find that hard to believe."Arrogant wretch.-Jackson and Celia”

“You weren't always so...appreciative. When I said that men enjoyed my company, you said you found that hard to believe."What?" he retorted with a scowl. "I never said any such thing.""Yes, you did, the day that I asked you to investigate my suitors. I remember it clearly.""Theres no way in hell I ever..." The conversation came back to him suddenly, and he shook his head. "You're remembering only part, sweeting. You said that men enjoyed your company and considered you easy to talk to. It was the last part I found hard to believe.""Oh." She eyed him askance. "Why? You never seem to have trouble talking to me. Or rather, lecturing me.""It's either lecture you or stop up your mouth with kisses," he said dryly. "Talking to you isn't easy, because every time I'm near you I burn to carry you off to some secluded spot and do any number of wicked things to you."She blinked, then gazed at him with such softness that it made his chest hurt. "Then why don't you?"-Celia and Jackson”

“He stared past her to the place at the other end of the dining table where Regina would sit as his wife. If she were here. If he hadn’t driven her away. “I’m not sure I know how to love, Louisa.” She took his hand. “Don’t be silly. Loving is easy. It’s finding someone to love you back that’s hard.”

“Are you hurt? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”“No, miss, just my pride.” He cast her a rueful smile. “Don’t fret yourself over it. I’m fine.”It was only when he caught Captain Horn’s assessing glance that he realized he was behaving more like a servant than a fiancé. As he slid his hand around Miss Willis’s waist, ignoring her startled expression, he noticed that the pirate watched them with interest.“Such a touching scene.” Captain Horn’s face wore a look of suspicion and muted anger. “And to think I never guessed until now the grand passion going on beneath my very nose.”“Like Miss Willis said, she chose me.” Peter thrust out his chest, affecting a protective stance . . . a little too late unfortunately. “She probably told you that she and I became friendly on the Chastity” It was the story both he and Miss Willis had agreed upon last night, though they knew some would find it less than convincing.Apparently the captain was one of them. “She did claim something like that.”Claim. Clearly the man didn’t believe either one of them.Then the scourge of the seas cast a low, lascivious, glance over Miss Willis, making her tremble beneath Petey’s arm. “She and I have also become quite ‘friendly’ in the past two days. Haven’t we, Sara?”Petey turned to her, surprised to find her blushing furiously. She cast a guilty look, then lowered her gaze to her hands. “I-I don’t know what you’re t-talking about.”“Of course not,” the captain ground out. “I should’ve expected a two-faced English lady like you to deny the truth about our ‘friendship.’ Well, you may deny it to me, and you may even deny it to this sailor of yours.” He lowered his voice to a threatening hum. “But you’ll have a hell of a hard time denying it to yourself.”

“Sharp!" called a voice from outside the stable.It might as well have been the voice of God Himself, only he wasn't coming to save anyone.She jerked her hand from Gabriel's breeches in a panic. "That's Poppy! He can't find us like this."Gabriel stared at her uncomprehendingly for a second.She shook him. "If he finds you here with me, there will be no wedding, no duel, no nothing except your handsome body speared on that pitchfork over there."A lazy grin crossed his face. "You think I'm handsome?""Gabriel!""Oh, all right." He stood and brushed the straw from his skin and breeches."-Gabriel and Virginia”

“He smiled his dimpled smile. "Well, I've found something in my heart, my love, and it's you. You fill it up so completely that I don't need anything else." His gaze turned solemn. "I don't want to be the river anymore. I want to be the earth that the tree roots in. And I believe that I can, if you'll be my tree. Will you?"It was too much. She began to cry, though she smiled so he'd know that they were happy tears. "That proposal...is vastly superior...to your last one," she choked out between sobs. "I would very much love to be your tree."-Jarret and Annabel”

“Listen carefully, and don’t panic.” With his eyes still on that wretched spot behind her, he slid his right hand slowly to the hilt of his saber.“What am I not supposed to be panicking about?” she snapped. He was scaring her to death, the wretch, and probably for nothing!”