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“Your drawings are brilliant, Miss Makepeace. You're quite talented." "My drawings are brilliant?" What about my smile? What about my eyes? "Yes," he said. "Detailed, accurate, yet still singular and strangely..." he looked upward for a moment, seeking a clean slate for his thought, then returned his eyes to her. "... passionate." He all but purred that last word, his eyes dancing with mirth, and for the life of her, she didn't know what to say. Susannah studied him warily instead, since his face was the one part of his body she hadn't yet sketched in vivid detail. His features were too strong, perhaps, to be considered classically handsome; his face was a bit too long and angular, like a diamond, his nose slightly arched. Light brows, light lashes, and those disconcerting eyes. But in the midst of all those angles, his mouth was a work of art; wide, sensitively curved, indisputably masculine. And of course, the rest of him was beautifully made, too. Almost overwhelmingly so. God help her, she could feel color setting fresh fire to her cheeks at the memory.” — Julie Anne Long