You've turned into quite a bossy little thing," Myrnin said. "I think I might like it.

Hey! Sorry, lady, but nobody's staking anybody at this party! I hung a disco ball for this.

Claire signed. "Go ahead. And thanks. Oh, and be careful?" "Please. I am the queen of careful. Also, princess of punk fabulousness."

Okay, that really shouldn't have happened. And we’re not going to talk about that, right? Ever?” “Right,” she said. She felt like there was light dripping from her fingertips. Spilling out of her toes. She felt full of light, in fact, warm buttery sunlight. “Never happened.” He opened his mouth, then closed it, and closed his eyes. “Claire—” “I know.” “Lock the door,” he said.

Michael held me when I got inside, because I was shaking all over. That felt so good. Warm all the way down. Did I mention Michael’s feet? They’re all the way sexy, and he’s always barefoot – he hates shoes. I wish he hated pants and shirts, too.

He started to touch the mechanism under the keyboard, then pulled his hand back with a snap. "Ah," he said. "Must deactivate the security....Turn around, please." "What?" "Turn around, Claire. It's a secure password!" "You have GOT to be kidding." "Why ever would I joke about that? Please turn.

I’m taking off my shoes.’’ ‘‘Fine. Shoes off.’’ ‘‘And my pants.’’ ‘‘Don’t push it, Claire.