Oh, Gods." His eyes shone with want and predatory satisfaction. "The name's William. It's a common mistake.

Not only will you sleep with me, but you will say 'please.'" I stared at him, shocked. The smile widened. "You will say 'please' before and 'thank you' after." Nervous laughter bubbled up. "You've gone insane. All that peroxide in your hair finally did your brain in, Goldilocks.

Mmmm, Kate, the Chief of Security. Sexy. Who better to guard my body then the woman who owns it?" "Curran, I will punch you.

So. You refuse my money, you serve me thirty-year-old Highland Park scotch, and we've been in the same room for approximately five minutes, yet none of my bones are broken. This leads me to believe that your back is against the wall and you desperately need me for something. I'm dying to know what that is.

In there?' She nodded. 'You want us to go into the tortoise?' Another nod. 'It's alive.' Another nod.

Our standard rate. A doubloon a day." It was generous. More than generous--some families would put him up for a week for a single coin. "Half a doubloon a day," she said. "No, you see, the idea behind bargaining is that you ask for a larger amount.

I wondered if kicking him in the head would make the whole explanation pop out of his mouth in one chunk.