They don’t eat that much.” “In comparison to what? Starving marines?

And why not?” “You know why! This is a bad idea.” “Perhaps I like a challenge.” “Perhaps you’re a glutton for punishment!” “Perhaps I am in love.

To know Pritkin was to want to kill him, but so far I'd resisted temptation.

I narrowed my eyes at it. Ming-de’s little gift, I assumed. “You look better in color,” I snapped. He sent me a sultry look over his shoulder. “Really? Most women think I look better in nothing at all.

I’m driving,” Louis-Cesare said, sliding into the low seat as easily as if he’d done it a hundred times. “You’re drunk.” I wished. “I had all of two beers, mostly for the water content.” “If you needed water, why didn’t you drink water?” “I don’t like water.

He had the look of an atheist who’d just had a visit from God: stunned, disbelieving and faintly ill.

He wasn't that good looking, he had the social skills of a wet cat and the patience of a caffeinated hummingbird