St. Vincent. Her husband. He was naked, or at least the upper half of him was. He slept on his stomach, his smoothly muscled arms curved around the pillow beneath his head. The broad lines of his shoulders and back were so perfect that they seemed to have been carved from pale Baltic amber and sanded to a glossy finish. His face was much softer in repose than it was in wakefulness... the calculating eyes were closed, and his mouth was relaxed into gentle, innocently sensuous lines.
Theirs had been a complex relationship, two people who had been bound by disappointments and resentments the way others were bound by love. Helen.
You must learn to ignore what people say,” Sebastian murmured, coming to her. Standing behind her, he rested his fingers lightly on her shoulders, causing her to start a little. “You’ll be much happier that way.” Suddenly his voice was tipped with amusement. “I’ve learned that while gossip about others is often true, it’s never true when it is about oneself.
No, Mr. Swift’s mind doesn’t work that way, any more than my father’s does. They’re men of business. Predators. If Mr. Swift wanted me, he wouldn’t stop to ask for my permission any more than a lion would stop and politely ask an antelope if he would mind being eaten for lunch.
A wedding ritual in my part of Wales. A man and woman exchange vows with a stone held between their joined hands. After the ceremony, they go together to cast the stone into a lake, and the earth itself becomes part of their oath. From then on, they are bound to each other for as long as the world exists.
Hunt immediately adjusted his hold, bracing her easily. “I thought you looked pale,” he remarked, gently stroking back a lock of hair that had fallen over her damp face. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Is it just your stomach, or do you hurt somewhere else?
Tell me where she is, or I’ll snap your neck like a wishbone!
Well, there was something I once read... It was an astronomy book that said in most of the constellations, the stars don’t actually belong together. They only appear to. They look to us as if they’re close to each other, but some of them exist in another part of the galaxy altogether. That’s how my family was. We seemed to belong to the same group, but we were all very far apart.
No one’s ever told me that I’m a comfortable sort. I’m sure I don’t like it. I’ll have to do something diabolical soon to correct your impression.
So the two of them together have to come up with a new dream that looks different than either of them expected. Neither of them get everything that they want. I happen to feel like that really reflects real life but that’s a good thing. No one needs to have their way all the time, first of all, but second of all, if you find the right partner, as a couple, you’re going to create something together that is going to be better than what you could do or have individually.
I’m sorry, buttercup,” he murmured, cuddling her spent and trembling form against his. “You deserve time and privacy, and consideration. Not to be fondled in the library over the tea service.
I want you too badly, love. I want you the way dry earth soaks up rain. There may have been a time in my life when I could have seen you like this and still had some hope of self-control. Although I doubt it. I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as you.
He’s a man, dear,” Amelia explained kindly. “Sustained thinking is very difficult for them.” “As opposed to women,” Leo retorted, “who have the remarkable ability to make decisions without doing any thinking at all.
Despite a lifetime of social indoctrination, Marcus did not believe in aristocracy of any kind.
Nothing is worse than breaking the trust of someone who depends on your protection.
The most dangerous substance on earth is wood pulp flattened into thin sheets. I’d rather face a steel blade than certain pieces of paper.
He stared at her the way he used to in the days of their youth, his eyes lit with open yearning.
No one had ever told her that love could make every cell in one’s body hurt.
You may not know this, but talking about mathematics eliminates any possibility of being kissed in the first place.
West lounged on the floor between her two sons, a heavy forelock of dark hair falling over his forehead. “What does a chicken say?” he asked Stephen, holding up a wooden figure. The toddler took it from him and answered, “Rowwr!” West blinked in surprise and began to chuckle along with Justin. “By God, that is a fierce chicken.