“He shook his head, looking perplexed. “I even like it when you snipe at me.” “You’ve seen me with a gun. If I were to snipe at you, I promise you’d feel it. And you wouldn’t like it one bit.”

“I was afraid. Of getting hurt in other ways. To be truthful, I still am."His thumb stroked her cheek. "I would never hurt you.""I don't think you can promise me that." She squeezed his bruised fingers. "But it makes things a bit more equal, to know that I can hurt you, too."His gaze fell to her lips. He said simply, without any trace of irony, "You are killing me.”

“The question is, Miss Finch . . . what are you doing in this village?”“I’ve been trying to explain it to you. We have a community of ladies here in Spindle Cove, and we support one another with friendship, intellectual stimulation, and healthful living.”“No, no. I can see how this might appeal to a mousy, awkward chit with no prospects for something better. But what are you doing here?”Perplexed, she turned her gloved hands palms-up. “Living happily.”“Really,” he said, giving her a skeptical look. Even his horse snorted in seeming disbelief. “A woman like you.”She bristled. Just what kind of woman did he think she was?“If you think yourself content with no man in your life, Miss Finch, that only proves one thing.” In a swift motion, he pulled himself into the saddle. His next words were spoken down at her, making her feel small and patronized. “You’ve been meeting all the wrong men.”

“A little smile on your face, because you’d just untangled a new translation.” He cleared his throat. “Like this one. Tumi amar jeeboner dhruvotara.” She tilted her head, puzzling over the phrase. “That’s not Hindustani.” “Bengali. It means ‘You are my life’s bright star’ in Bengali.” The sweet words were edged with frustration, not tenderness. His knuckles cracked. “Obviously, I was saving that one. For the right morning.”

“When you look at me that way, I feel so beautiful.""You are beautiful." He signed deep in his chest. His hands slid up and down her arms, caressing her roughly. "So damned beautiful.""So are you." She put a hand to his bare chest, tracing the defined ridges of his musculature. "Like a diamond. Hard and gleaming, and cut with all these exquisite facets. Inside...pure, brilliant fire.”

“A beast is just what you want. A big, dark medieval brute to throw you to the ground, tear the clothes from your body, and have his wicked way with you. I know I’m right. I haven’t forgotten how excited you were in the aftermath of that blast."The nerve of him!How could he tell?She lifted her chin. "Well, I haven't forgotten the sound you made when I first touched your brow. It wasn't even a moan, it was more like . . . like a whimper."He made a dismissive sound. "Oh yes. A plaintive, yearning whimper. Because you want an angel. A sweet, tender virgin to hold you and stroke you and whisper precious promises and make you feel human.""That's absurd," he scoffed. "You're just begging to be taught a hard, fast lesson in what it means to please a man.""You're just longing to put your head in my lap and feel my fingers in your hair.He backed her up against a rock. "You need a good ravaging.""You," she breathed, "need a hug."They stared at each other for long, tense moments. At first, looking each other in the eye. Then looking each other in the lips. "You know what I think?" he said, coming closer. So close she could feel his breath wash warm against her cheek. "I think we’re having one of those vexing arguments again.""The kind where both sides are right?""Hell, yes."And this time, when they kissed, they both made that sound. That deep, moaning, yearning, whimpering sound.That sound that said yes. And at last.And you are exactly what I need.”

“I adored you. All my life, I adored you. I asked nothing of you. No promises, no courtship. I surrendered my virtue. I gave you my trust. And you left me with a note.”His mouth twisted in an expression of regret. He pushed a hand through his hair. “I’m so very—” “Twenty-six words!” she shot back, in the loudest whisper she could manage. “I gave you my virginity, and you left me twenty-six scribbled words.”