Call me crazy for asking this, but, um, are Lissa and I going with you?" "No" "No?" "No.

I don’t know how you do it. You aren’t even blond. I mean, maybe a little, but mostly you’re a brunette. I just don’t see guys going for that.” “Yeah, well, some people are into kinky stuff, I guess.

Isaiah rolled his eyes. "Good God. What a noble lot. You're all Spartacus, aren't you?

Nah. I’m a consultant, of course. Everyone’s favorite nondescript yet well-paid white-collar job.

Iʹve seen you too. Ozera. Crispin, right?ʺ ʺChristian,ʺ corrected Lissa. ʺRight.ʺ .... ʺSo what brings you and Christopher here?ʺ asked Blake. He finished a glass of something amber colored and set it down beside the new drink. ʺChristian,ʺ said Christian. .... Blake gave her puppy-dog eyes. ʺBut you just got here! I was hoping we could get to know each other.ʺ It went without saying what he meant by that. ʺOh. And Kreskin too.

Keeping love buried was a lot like jeeping anger pent up, I'd learned. It just ate you up insides until you wanted to scream or kick something.

Plus, I was about to spend six weeks with Christian Ozera. He was sarcastic, difficult, and made jokes about everything. Actually, he was a lot like me. It was going to be a long six weeks.