“Pictures of the corners of life that no one else saw.”

“That werewolf fantasy would be a hard one to pull off. She'd have to troll through the forest in high heels, just praying one of the scruffy campers was actually a raving beast.”

“Can we go inside, Eve?"She inhaled quietly at the way his voice wrapped around her name. One deep syllable that had always made her wish she was called something longer and more complicated. Genevieve or Isabella. Something that would take him full seconds to say so she could feel it rumble over her skin.”

“Yes," she spat. "I am quite picky. Often I like my seductions to consist of more than 'Hallo there. are to spread your knees for a duke?' Silly miss that I am.”

“Really, Your Grace. Crooking your little finger again? At least buy me a bauble before you try to tup me in the carriage.”

“Emma snapped from her daze. She sat forward and slid to ground so quickly that Hart was forced to scoot back.He fell to his backside, suddenly struck with the image of how he must look: sprawled on the floor with a cockstand, a pair of pink drawers in his fist. Utterly ridiculous. Corrupt. Depraved. Hart couldn't help but grin.”

“You take control, Emma," he whispered. The words tickled her ear, he spoke them so close. Shivers raced down her neck, down her chest and her belly. "Take control of me. Come to me." Her neck arched, wanting his mouth to bite her. "If you do Emma, I may give you what you want. Or I may offer more than you can handle. Risk. That's what you like, isn't it? So play with fire. Play with me.”