You’re as lovely as a flower in the stark of winter… Your hair is the color of wheat under the midday sun, and your eyes—”“Yes, yes. My eyes are like the sea or the sky or some such nonsense,” she quipped with a laugh, the lilting sound like the finest music, better than anything he could ever play.

Whether David believed in her affliction or not didn’t change the fact that it existed, and some day it would catch up with her.

Be quiet, or I'll run you through with my sword.""I'd much rather run you through with mine," he suggested, his voice a sexy rumble that made her shiver.