But now you're unhappy," he pointed out. "And?" I challenged. "That doesn't seem fair." He shrugged, but his eyes were still intense. I laughed without humour. "Hasn't anyone told you? Life isn't fair." "I believe I have heard that somewhere before," he agreed dryly.

It was a strange combination to absorb - the everyday concerns of the town doctor stuck in the middle of a discussion of his early days in seventeenth-century London.

What were you two doing last night, discussing the national debt?

Jacob was hardly in need of any physical protection I could offer. But my arms, pinned beneath Edward's, yearned to reach out to him. To wrap around his big, warm, waist in a silent promise of acceptance and comfort. Edward's shielding arms had become restraints.

Stupid, shiny Volvo owner.

I think being a teenager is such a compelling time period in your life--it gives you some of your worst scars and some of your most exhilarating moments. It's a fascinating place; old enough to feel truly adult, old enough to make decisions that affect the rest of your life, old enough to fall in love, yet, at the same time too young (in most cases) to be free to make a lot of those decisions without someone else's approval.

And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.