...She'd gone past interest, swung into attraction, burst through lust, tripped over affection, and was now skidding out of control into love.

I hope that's true, because I figured out why I'd never finished it, what I was waiting for. I was waiting for you, Clare. For them. For us. I want to finish it up for you, for them, for us.

Summerset, don't you ever sleep?" "It's Lieutenant Dallas. She's--" Roarke dropped his briefcase, grabbed Summerset by the lapels. "Has she been hurt? Where is she?" "A nightmare. She was screaming." Summerset lost his usual composure and dragged a hand over his hair. "She won't cooperate. I was about to call your doctor. I left her in her private suite." As Roarke pushed him aside, Summerset grabbed his arm. "Roarke, you should have told me what had been done to her." Roarke merely shook his head and kept going. "I'll take care of her.

Aren't most romance heros, or heros in fiction of any kind, generally superior to real men? Same goes for heroines and real women.

Love birds don't always sing pretty tunes.

Eve talking to someone on her computer and having trouble with the language translator....."I have two like crimes. Your data and your input on Leclerk would be very helpful"Marie pursed her lips and humor danced in her eyes."It says you would like to have sex with me. I don't think that is correct""Oh, for Christ sake" Eve slammed a fist against the machine.

What is technology?... It's another god.