You totally love him. He's your widdle snookums.

Oh my God, not only is he older than the Grand Canyon, but he’s like the pope and the Fae King and the president of the United States all rolled up into one. To some ancient cultures he had been a god. He was going to hurt her so bad before he killed her so dead, and all she could think of was how hot his kiss had been in the dream and how delicate the touch of his finger was as it traced down her body.

He looked at her with his eyelids half closed, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. She shrugged impatiently. “What?” “I love it when you get dictatorial,” he murmured.

Dragos, I don’t think we’re alone here.

I don’t understand how we got to this place. I didn’t even like you when I first met you.

I want to savor you like a five-course dinner in a world-class restaurant and take all night.

Nobody else can teach you what I can teach you. Nobody else will encourage you to be whoever you want the way I would. To shed your inhibitions and explore everything you’re capable of being.

She was almost forty years old and childless, with a patchwork history of working part-time at various socially acceptable jobs and volunteering at socially acceptable charities. She had spent all her adult life trying to fit into the right-sized box.

I apologize for my earlier behavior.” She gave him a sidelong grin. “You’re not really sorry.” He gave that due thought. Carefully he said, “I am regretful that I am not sorry. Does that count?