““Their conversation was limited to monosyllables, few and far between, and either consciously or unconsciously spoken in French. The language should have sounded clumsy or discordant when spoken in Forrester’s normal growl, but it didn’t. Instead, his terse questions and muttered comments came out sounding like impatient love words, deliciously sexy; as if the engine he was working on was a temperamental woman whose pretence at reluctance might irritate him, but for whom he would play the game because of the reward he knew he’d receive at the end of it.””
