“Sometimes, love was not enough.”

“She accused him of not thinking she was enough for him? The woman was entirely too much for him! She made him want to bellow with rage and hit things, then lock her in a room and kiss her senseless, until she gave in.”

“It was a terrifying feeling. And if it was love, he wanted none of it.”

“She’d so believed he could—that decades marked by disdain for emotion could have been nothing more than a faint memory in his checkered past. That she could love him enough to prove to him that the world was worth his caring, his trust. That she could turn him into the man of whom she had dreamed for so long.That was perhaps the hardest truth of all—that Ralston, the man she’d pined over for a decade, had never been real. He’d never been the strong and silent Odysseus; he’d never been aloof Darcy; never Antony, powerful and passionate. He had only ever been Ralston, arrogant and flawed and altogether flesh and blood.”

“And as the bullet ripped through his flesh, Ralston was consumed by a single thought: I never told her that I loved her.”

“To be honest, I thought it was similar to animal husbandry."Sally's tone turned dry. "Sometimes, my lady I'm afraid it isn't that different."Pippa paused, considering the ords. "Is that so?""Men are uncomplicated, generally," Sally said, all too sage. "They're beasts when they want to be.""Brute ones!""Ah, so you understand."Pippa tilted her head to one side. "I've read about them."Sally nodded. "Erotic texts?""The book of Common Prayer....”

“I've loved him for a decade. And I had him for one day before I made a complete and utter mess of things. Or he did. I'm still not sure about that.”