He loves me." "You sound surprised." "Nobody ever did. Not like this. It's easy to say, for some people. The words. But it's not just words with Roarke. He sees inside me, and it doesn't matter.

Life is never as long as we want it to be, and wasted time can never be recovered.

Memories are nice little possessions. As long as you don't ignore the present when you take them out to play.

Roarke's brow cocked as he noted Casto take in the black satin that slithered over Eve's body. In the manner of men or unfriendly male dogs, Roarke showed his teeth.

You know, lieutenant, you wear your weapon the way other women wear pearls." "It's not a fashion accessory.

A relationship isn't something that has to be created in a day or perfected in a day. Part of the game is to keep working on it. It's something that'll always be just a little flawed.

I didn't get fired." "You didn't punch your boss and get fired from the Tribune? That's what I heard." "I punched what could loosely be called a colleague for cribbing my notes on a story and since the editor–who happened to be the asshole's uncle–took his word over mine, I quit." "To write books. Is it fun?" "I guess it is." "I bet you killed the asshole in the first one you wrote." "You'd be right. Beat him to death with a shovel. Very satisfying.