“Her chin lifted. "Very well. Here is my best offer. Half of my nakedness for all of yours."He pretended to think on it. " It's a bargain.”

“He pierced her with a look. “I thought we had an agreement. I keep my men away from your ladies, and you keep your distance from me. You’re not holding your end of the bargain.”“It’s but a momentary interruption. Just this once.”“Just this once?” He made a dismissive noise, rifling through papers. “What about just now in the church?”“Very well, twice.”“Try again.” He stacked his papers and looked up, devouring her with his intent green gaze. “You invaded my dreams at least a half-dozen times last night. When I’m awake, you keep traipsing through my thoughts. Sometimes you’re barely clothed. What excuse can you make for that?”She stammered to form a response, her tongue tripping against her teeth. “I . . . I would never traipse.” Idiotic reply.“Hm.” He tilted his head and regarded her thoughtfully. “Would you saunter?”

“You don't want me to feel obligated? Well, I'm sorry, Lily. I am herebecause I feel obligated." He brought her hand to his chest, pressing herpalm flat against his rapidly thumping pulse. "I'm obligated by my heart. It'sdecided you're essential to my existence, you see. And it's threatening to go out on labor strike if I don't make you mine this very day. So yes. I am here on bended knee, acting from a deep, undeniable sense of obligation. I am, quite simply, yours." He swallowed hard. "If you'll have me.”

“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.”

“It's never been my desire to conquer you, Amelia. If you leave this room with me, it must be at my side. As my wife, my lover, my partner ...” His thumb brushed her lip. “My dearest friend.”

“I knew right then you were the only one for me." He pulled her handfrom his face, kissed her palm, then pressed it flat against his chest. "Beatings, battles, fights. No matter how bleak the circumstance, no matter how my soul despaired ... this heart never once gave up." His voice deepened, went thick with emotion. "I've a theory as to why. Do you want to hear it?"She nodded."This heart is yours. It's yours," he said. "It always will be.”

“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.”