It's Mari, Jack," Ken whispered, needing to say it aloud. "What?" Jack jerked around, staring at the sniper as the eyes fluttered closed. "Are you certain?" Ken pulled the woman's belt loose and buckled it around her leg. "Either that or your wife is playing sniper for the other team. It has to be Mari. She looks exactly like Briony.

I am surrounded by my family, my beloved grandchildren, and my pack of dogs.

I'm an observer. I read about life. I research life. I find a corner in a room and melt into it. I can become invisible. It's an art, and I am a wonderful practitioner.

I have one thing you don't,' he murmured against her neck, turning his head and nipping her earlobe. 'What?' His tongue teased her ear. 'Brute strength,' he whispered and removed the keys from her hand even as he captured her mouth with his. He didn't let her up until she kissed him back thoroughly, until her arms slid around his neck and she melted into him. He drove the truck with great satisfaction, smirking at her. 'Manly man, here, woman.

The trouble is not really in being alone, it's being lonely. One can be lonely in the midst of a crowd, don't you think?

Just remember who you belong to, Hannah. I wouldn't want to have to shoot anyone - or strangle you." She leaned over to kiss his shoulder. "Why am I the one to be strangled?" "It's a much more personal death.

The minute I'm in a little pain ... your rough, tough, scary bad boy image totally falls apart.