“I want to sleep in your bed."Her thighs tingled. "You must really like my mattress."He grinned. I never heard it called that, but yeah.”

“You're my hero," he murmured.She grinned up at him. "What a coincidence. You're _my_ hero.”

“So… this business trip of yours?”“What about it?”“Are you and Coop sharing a room?”She raised her eyebrows, then said, “Right back at you, Cowboy.”“Liz and I are just friends.”“Uh-huh. I hope your shots are up-to-date.”“Meow.”

“She had her own barometer for knowing when a man was getting too close: as soon as he felt comfortable enough to help himself to something in her refrigerator, he was history....Filching leftover was simply too domestic for her to stomach. A man might as well say, "I'm hungry and I'm taking your food, woman." First he'd be foraging for food in the fridge, next he'd be expecting her to cook for him, replace buttons on his shirt, and give up her job to have babies that looked like him.”

“Everything about the man spoke of virility--his quick reaction, his calm control now that danger had passed. And she'd never seen a man wield a gun in real life--it was kind of a turn-on to know that he'd protected her. Of course he had protected everyone, but he _had_ sort of singled her out by heaving her to the floor.”

“She had no doubt the man would kill her. Stupid things went skating through her mind--she'd never told her mother how much she loved her chocolate cupcakes... or Felicia what a kind friend she'd been... or Keith that it was cool and mature that he owned a house, even if it was in Brooklyn.”

“I'm an acquired taste, he assured her, displaying one dimple, but addictive.”