“It's daylight. Shouldn't you have burned to a crisp, or something? Don't you have to crawl into a coffin? Where do you keep it stashed, anyway?""I've never owned a coffin," he admitted, unable to hold back a smile.”

“Everything feels like the end of the world, and you can't reason with someone who can't see tomorrow.”

“If only gossip weren't so titillating. Sweeney tried to control an avid desire to know more, to dig for all the dirty details.The temptation was great. Dirt was like fat; it made life more delicious.”

“The only choice you have right now is the color you want the house painted, and your choices are white and white." She was yelling by the time she finished, her face flushed.”

“The magazine said to blend. Daisy blended for all she was worth, trying to spread that dark stuff around.”

“Sudden, hell. I've been hard for two months.”

“She didn't want to handle him. She didn't want anything to do with him - this man with his cold, intense eyes and clipped speech, this stranger, this Yankee. He made her feel like a rabbit facing a cobra: terrified, but fascinated at the same time. He tried to hide his ruthlessness behind smooth, cosmopolitan manners, but Evie had no doubts about the real nature of the man.He wanted her. He intended to have her. And he wouldn't care if he destroyed her in the taking.”

“Her lips parted slightly in a smile so female it took his breath away, and her deep blue eyes beckoned him, dared him. Once again her hips lifted. "What are you waiting for?" she breathed. "For you," he answered, and even as he lost himself in the mindless ecstasy of making love to her, the truth of that remained. He'd waited for her forever.”

“She had opened the refrigerator door and was looking at her supply of frozen microwave dinners with an expression of distaste when the doorman buzzed. Deciding to forget about dinner, something she'd done too often lately, she depressed the switch. "Yes, Dennis?" "Mr. Payne and Mr. McCoy are here to see you, Ms. Granger," Dennis said smoothly. "From the FBI." "What?" Jay asked, startled, sure she'd misunderstood. Dennis repeated the message, but the words remained the same. She was totally dumbfounded. "Send them up," she said, because she didn't know what else to do. FBI? What on earth? Unless slamming your apartment door was somehow against federal law, the worst she could be accused of was tearing the tags off her mattress and pillows. Well, why not? This was a perfectly rotten end to a perfectly rotten day.”

“Jay stepped into the room, and for a split second both her heart and lungs seemed to stop functioning. Then her heart lurched into rhythm again, and she drew a deep, painful breath. Tears sprang to her eyes as she stared at the inert form on the white hospital bed, and his name trembled soundlessly on her lips. It didn't seem possible that this ... this could be Steve.”

“He lifted her hand to his mouth. The touch of his lips was soft on her scraped palm, the tiny licks of his tongue so light she could barely feel them. Wait. He was licking her?"You can't lick me," she said sternly. "i don't know your name."He looked up and a quick grin slashed across his face. "Luca," he said...."Luca," she repeated. "Is that an America name?""No." He lifted her hand to his mouth again, and his tongue once more began a slow, gentle movement over the scrape. She was okay with it now, because she knew his name.”