“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.”

“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.”

“How about I kiss you so we can get past this awkwardness?”

“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.”

“She cried over the messed up messy mess of her life, over her parents' failures and her own shortcomings.”

“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.”

“I was an intelligence agent for the British government.Agent double-oh-seven? she asked lightly.No, he said in a grave tone, then leaned forward and whispered, Agent sixty-nine.”