When his lips sealed to hers, the press of it was astonishing in its gentility. His neck corded with tension, his shoulders bunched, and his grip tightened. But his mouth. Oh, his mouth. It sampled her with a series of light strokes, restraining his ardent passion with well-practiced skill… An inarticulate sound vibrated from somewhere deep within him, quickening her heart and rushing the blood through her veins with an injection of heat.

Raphael Sauvageau was pure, unmitigated male. His voice deep. His manner predatory. His gaze unapologetically lustful… He could seduce a woman without saying a word. Make her aware of all the deep, empty places she ignored.

Intuition was just the brain processing information more quickly than one's consciousness could comprehend.

Death's business is a messy one.

Dig two graves, Fiona. One for your enemy... And one for yourself.