Kate," Lucern interrupted. "What?" she asked warily. "I do not need blood." He tugged her off balance and into his lap. "All I need is you.

Maybe I should do this for y-" (Samantha) "No, I'm cooking. If you want to be helpful, you can bring me my wine. I poured us both a glass." (Mortimer) "But-" "No," he insisted, pushing her toward the door. "In you go. I'm the man. I get to barbecue while you stand around and look cute.

I thought you said that after this many years nothing should embarrass him?" Leigh said with gentle amusement. Lucian grunted. "I guess he's more sensitive than I thought." "I am NOT sensitive," Cale snapped, irritated by the very suggestion. "It's probably his mother's fault," Lucian said, ignoring him. "Martine named him after Caliope, the muse of poetry. Between that and his father dying when he was only fifty, he's probably suffered under Martine's namby-pamby influence.

Lovely was my compliment. Could you not come up with your own?" "Lord Paen said compliment her, he did not say we had to be creative about it," the second man pointed out with a shrug

Birthdays could be such a bummer when you were older than the country you lived in.

Have you tried to talk to her?" "What would you like me to say Bastian? OH, I'M SORRY, INEZ. I DIDN'T MEAN TO BITE YOU, MY FANGS SLIPPED.

Dear God, surely you aren't the chef Sam was talking about?" "No," he said with a laugh, and gestured behind him with a thumb. "Cale here is." "Kale?" Alex echoed blankly, her eyes sliding to the still half-closed door. She didn't see any evidence of a second man. Frowning, she set the phone back in its receiver and leaned to the side, trying to see out into the kitchen as she muttered, "Kale is a vegetable.