Wow, when you research, you really research, don't you?

Captain,” she murmured.
“I think I’m in love with you.”
An eyebrow shot up. She counted six beats of his heart before, suddenly, he laughed.
“Don’t tell me it took you two whole days to realize that. I must be losing my touch.

An animal?" Thorne said, and she realized he'd been waiting for her to further explain what she was seeing.
"It has long legs and horns and...and it's beautiful."
"Oh, good, we're back to this, then.

Cress?"
"It's beautiful out there."
A hesitation, before, "Could you be more specific?"
"The sky is gorgeous, intense blue color." She pressed her fingers to the glass and traced the wavy hills on the horizon.
"Oh, good. You've really narrowed it down for me."
"I'm sorry, it's just..." She tried to stamp down the rush of emotion. "I think we're in a desert."
"Cactuses and tumbleweeds?"
"No just a lot of sand. It's kind of orangish-gold, with hints of pink, and I can see tiny clouds of it floating above the ground, like...like smoke."
"Piles up in lots of hills?"
"Yes, exactly! And it's beautiful."
Thorne snorted. "If this is how you feel about a desert, I can't wait until you see your first real tree. Your mind will explode.

He leaned forward to inspect her closer. "Is that all hair?"

... Sudden, overwhelming panic clawed up Cress's throat. With a squeak, she ducked out of view of the camera and scrambled beneath the desk. Her back struck the wall with a thud that rattled her teeth. She crouched there, skin burning hot and pulse thundering as she took in the room before her— the room that he was now seeing too, with the rumpled bedcovers and the mustached man on all the screens telling her to grab her imaginary partner and swing them around.

"Wha—where'd she go?" Thorne's voice came to her through the screen.

"Honestly, Thorne." A girl. Linh Cinder? "Do you ever think before you speak?"

"What? What did I say?"

" 'Is that all hair?' "

"Did you see it? It was like a cross between a magpie nest and ball of yarn after it's been mauled by a cheetah."

A beat. Then, "A cheetah?"

"It was the first big cat that came to mind.

She shrank into her chair, sure that if he could see her now, he would know. The truth would be evident in every angle of her face.
She loved him more than ever.
And not because she'd scoured file after file of reports and summaries and data and photographs. Not because he was the dreamy, untouchable Carswell Thorne that she'd imagined kissing on the banks of a starlit river while fireworks exploded overhead and violins played in the background.
Now he was Carswell Thorne who had given her strength in the desert. Who had come for her when she was kidnapped. Who had kissed her when hope was lost and death was imminent.