Her touch was as soft as a snowflake falling onto my skin.

Oh, baby. You have no idea what I’d do to get through those layers and down to the good stuff.

There's nothing I can do that's going to drive you away, is there?" I murmured. Owen flashed me a sly grin. "Finally figuring that out, are you? I nodded. His grin deepened. "Well, it sure took you long enough.

Don't you agree, fuzzball?

This is really good,” Donovan Caine said, attacking his third strawberry pancake. “You sound surprised,” I said. He shrugged. “I just didn’t think an assassin would be able to cook like this.” “Well, I do get lots of practice with knives. You could say I’m multitasking.” The detective froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. “I’m kidding. I enjoy cooking. It relaxes me.

Don’t make it a challenge. You know how much I like those.

I'd be damned if I let him see the tears in my eyes.