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

“Don't even try to make this into something weird, Lori. We grew up in the same place, so get over your complex. Unless, of course, this is part of your fantasy. The asshole rich boy and the noble girl from the poor family.""F*ck off," she growled.”

“He pushed up a little, raising his head to look into her eyes. After a moment, weariness settled into his features. "It's too late regardless. I'm yours now."I'm yours. The beautiful opposite of what Peter White had said to her. You're mine now, he'd crowed, as if she were a purchased treat. The difference, it seemed, between a boy and a man. Just as Jude had promised.”

“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.”

“It wasn't funny.""Oh, mon coeur. It was the funniest thing I've ever heard.""Jude!" she cried, stomping her foot before she realized she'd done it."I'd kiss you now if I wasn't sure that you'd bit me."She would. She'd nip that obnoxious smile right off his face."Now I know why you're so good at it. Kissing. You've had loads of practice.”

“Of course not," she snapped. "I'm only thirsty. Would you play the gallant and find me a glass of lemonade?""I assume 'lemonade' is code for wine?”

“You're walking around here with a smile on your face, Asher. It's freaking everybody out.”