She had the underwear of a thirteen-year-old, as well, he thought. He glanced back at her. But the shoes of a courtesan.

He was sound asleep, his long legs stretched out in front of him, the blessed fire blazing, an empty bottle of wine by his side. He hadn't been shaved recently, and he looked rumpled, dissolute and beautiful. Like a fallen angel. She moved to stand in front of him and pointed the pistol directly at his heart. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he murmured, and then he opened his extraordinary eyes. "It's always unwise to shoot the man you're in love with.

She had the underwear of a thirteen-year-old, as well, he thought. He glanced back at her. But the shoes of a courtesan.

You'd be better served ifyou gave me a moment to regain my self-control and let me remove my boots. It's the least agentleman can do.""And you're such a gentleman.""Not with you, love. But I'm trying.

If you lust after someone and have an absurd and overwhelming need to protect them, then the best way to deal with the situation is to marry the person.

She froze. He reached up and took her hand in his, pulling the knife away, making her drop it on the floor. "Show me how much you hate me," he whispered against her mouth. "Prove it to me.

She tilted her head to one side, considering him. "Do you love me?" "Love is a trick and a sham. A foolish plague and a lie and a torment." "Do you love me?" she repeated, quite calmly. Knowing the answer. "Yes, may it curse my soul." "May it save your soul," she said.