" Then you can investigate me over dinner." He took her arm, lifting a brow as she stiffened. "I'd think a woman who'd fight for a candy bar would appreciate a two-inch fillet, medium rare."
"Steak?" She struggled not to drool. "Real steak, from a cow?"
A smile curved his lips. "Just flown in from Montana. The steak, not the cow. "

― J.D. Robb , Naked in Death (In Death #1)