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“You're sinfully handsome, women everywhere fall at your feet, you have a beautiful house, friends, companions, anything you might desire. Surely you could be happy...?" For a moment there was real humor in his dark green eyes. "Sinfully handsome, Emma? Women fall at my feet? Then why, pray tell, aren't you there?" "I'm not interested in being one of your conquests." "I don't conquer women, Emma," he said in a low, sinuous voice. "I seduce them. Charm them into doing exactly what I want them to do. Does that surprise you, that I would hold that much charm?" She looked up at him. Indeed, she had no choice- he was still holding her close against his body, and she could either look at him or close her eyes. She wasn't sure which was more dangerous. "No," she said. "It doesn't surprise me." "Then why haven't you succumbed yet?" "I'm stronger than most women." "So you are," he agreed. "But you're no match for me." She hadn't realized he'd been moving her slowly, carefully, backward, until her body came up against the side of the high bed. She halted in sudden panic, but it was too late. He carried her down onto it, his body covering hers, his weight warm and solid.” — Anne Stuart