“It is the poor man who clenches so tightly to the gold he is given - for fear of losing it. The man of wealth spends his gold freely to accomplish his will in the world. It is the same with life.'Suddenly ashamed of my conspicuous poverty, I lowered my eyes. But Scatha placed a hand beneath my chin and raised my head. 'Cling too tightly to your life and you will lose it, my Reluctant Warrior. You must become the master of your life, not its slave.”

“I love you. You are my life.” He placed my hand over his heart. I could feel it beating erratically beneath my palm. “Feel that? It’s yours. For now and always!”

“My life is too tight, he wanted to say. My skin is too tight. The walls are too tight.”

“Every so often i'd wake up when his arms clenched around me, his embrace so tight i thought he'd cut off my circulation, holding me as if even in his sleep he was haunted by the fear of losing me.”

“He tasted deeper, holding himself over me, and suddenly he was everywhere; his knee trapping my leg, his lips grazing warm, rough, sensuous. He splayed his hand at the small of my back, holding me tightly, driving me to sink my fingers deeper into him, clinging to him as if letting go would mean losing part of myself.”

“There was a time,” he finally said, “when I would have acknowledged your reticence and given you time and space to reach your own decision.” He tipped my head down again and slid his fingers to the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. Then he lowered his lips to my ear.“This is not that time, Merit.” And then his mouth was on mine, and he took my breath away again. He kissed me like a man possessed, like a man with nothing more on his mind but the taste and feel of me. Like a man returned to life.”