One glance at the way he looked at her, and Sam knew exactly what he was. A lethal habit, she thought. The accelerator on a race car. A halo jump on a crystal clear day. The best possible rush with the worst possible consequences.

Nothing sexier than a woman who knows how to hurt you.

It's normal to love a dangerous woman. They know how to wield their power, an they're not afraid of yours. They make you work for everything you get and it's all the sweeter once you get it. Makes you feel 'coraggioso' to be able to hold her.

You don’t drink?” Samantha asked, clearly surprised. Jack shrugged easily. “Occasionally. But it’s not my poison.” “And what is your poison?” He eyed her dress. Samantha laughed, a husky, sexy sound. “So your reputation is earned.” “Which one is that?” “The one about you being a wily, unapologetic, womanizing rake.” “That’s a mouthful.

Her business, more than any other, proved how much vulnerability could cost you. And she'd paid for every good thing she had, again and again, until the pain of exposure had made her choose her vulnerabilities sparingly. Pleasure, tenderness, intimacy... these were all luxuries Sam stole where she could find them...

It's not compromise if it doesn't sting just a little bit on both sides, now is it?

He looked like a walking, talking billboard for deliciously irresponsible behavior and a treasure trove of regrettable decisions.

His new neighbor made James Bond look like an alcoholic slacker.