There was a vast difference, Phryne discovered, in hearing such words from Jack than in hearing them from any other man. Many men desired her, but Jack had been the unreachable pinnacle, the Mt. Kilmanjaro of men. That he felt comfortable enough to tease her with intimate promises sent a delicious shiver down her spine. And she felt no prospect of that peak being any less exciting to ascend now that she'd done so. In fact, she quite liked the view from here.

"If you'd asked me beforehand, I would have objected thoroughly." Which now seemed a curious and incomprehensible fact. "But I think I like being your 'love', Jack. If you mean it."