" Azami shuddered, her lips trembling, and then she consumed him as aggressively and as honestly as he did her. He felt her inside of his mind, running like lava through his veins, wrapping around his heart and filling his very bones with her.
“This is madness,” she whispered against his mouth when they both came up for air. Her dark eyes searched his face.
Sam didn’t have any answers. He knew she was right. They might be on opposite sides in a deadly war, yet he couldn’t let her go. She fit with him. The world around them was out of sync, not the two of them.
“I know,” he admitted as he rested his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes.
“What are we going to do now?”
A slow smile curved his mouth. “I really expected you to kill me so I wouldn’t have to figure that part out.”
She blinked, her black fan of thick silky lashes fluttering as wildly as her heart. She moistened her lips. “You’re not getting off that easily.”
Sam watched the dawning smile, the way her soft mouth curved and the warmth spread to her dark eyes with absolute fascination. “Well. Damn. "

― Christine Feehan , Samurai Game (Ghostwalkers, #10)