“He was the kind of guy that made a woman want to rip his shirt open and watch the buttons scatter along with her inhibitions.”

“The reason I want you to put a shirt on is, well, because, um..." "You've never seen a guy with his shirt off?" "Ha, ha. Very funny. Believe me, you don't have anything I haven't seen before." "Wanna bet?" he says, then moves his hands to the button on his jeans and pops it open. Isabel walks in at that exact moment. "Whoa, Alex. Please keep your pants on.”

“Lachlain: 'And you must be the soothsayer - 'Nix: 'I prefer predeterminationally abled, thank you.' Her hand shot out, ripping a button from his shirt, so fast it was a blur. She'd taken the one closest to his heart, and for a moment her face turned very cold. She'd made a point - she could have gone for his heart.Then she opened her hand and gasped in surprise. 'A button!' She smiled delightedly. 'You can never have enough of these!'Lachlain: 'How did you find this place?'Regin: 'A phone tap, satellite imaging, and a psychic,' she said, then immediately frowned. 'How do YOU find places?”

“The shirt seemed heavy until he saw there was another shirt inside it, the sleeves carefully worked down inside Jack’s sleeves. It was his own plaid shirt, lost, he’d thought, long ago in some damn laundry, his dirty shirt, the pocket ripped, buttons missing, stolen by Jack and hidden here inside Jack’s own shirt, the pair like two skins, one inside the other, two in one.”

“Maybe my ploy had worked. I wore a respectable shirt that buttoned down the front, only - whoops! – I must have forgotten to fasten the button over my cleavage. No respectable girl would wear her shirt open that low. (Cough.)”

“You know the way Jesus rips open his shirt to show us his heart, all flaming and thorny, the way he points to it. I’m afraid the way I’ll miss you will be this obvious.”