Oh no. Don’t smile. You’ll kill me. I stop breathing when you smile.
Forgive me for speaking frankly, but after the past quarter-hour’s conversation, I am unconvinced that any of you possess the sense or sensitivity to impart the news in any respectful fashion” – Amelia.
This is true valor, I hope you know. Legends have sprung from less. All Lancelot did was paddle about in a balmy lake.” She smiled. “Lancelot was a knight. You’re a viscount. The bar is higher.
Yes, Min. This is how it should be.” Raw need edged his voice. “Never settle for less. Be fearless. Wild and loud and lovely. God, you’re so lovely.
Of course you don’t deserve her. No man deserves a woman like that. He mortgages his very soul to win her and spends his life paying off the debt.
Every time you wake up, you let fly the most marvelous string of curses. It’s never the same twice, do you know that? It’s so intriguing. You’re like a rooster that crows blasphemy.
Love me. Don’t ever stop. You hear me? It won’t be this good with anyone else. Only me, Min. Only me.
Surely it can’t be,” he said, his hand stealing over her thigh, “that this intrepid explorer of underwater caverns hasn’t explored her own little cove?
Then she sighed. Just the faintest, softest release of breath. The sound swept through his chest like a hurricane, with the force to topple trees.
More to the point, I am fifty-eight. I need grandchildren before my decline. It’s not right for two generations of the family to be drooling at the same time.
I need to know,” he said. “I need to know, right now, if you’re mine. I’ve been patient for years, and if need be, I can wait years more. I’ll do anything in my power to win you, to keep you. But I need to know, this moment, if you’ll be mine in the end.
You’re a grown woman, and a clever one. I believe you understand the situation. And I’m going to trust that you know your own mind.
You’re a powerful man,′ she went on. ‘And it’s not only to do with your money or your title. You have the ability to make people feel valued, when you’re not making them feel like rubbish.
The dark scares you because it seems boundless. But it isn’t as vast as it seems. You can explore it, learn the shape of it, take its measure – just as you can see a room with your eyes. You have your hands, nose, ears.
There was good in him. Raw, molten goodness, bubbling deep in his core. But he didn’t possess the charm or manners to control it. It just erupted periodically in volcano fashion, startling anyone who happened to be nearby.
But when the sun goes down? We’re all just stumbling through the darkness, trying to outlast another night.
Cleverness is like rouge – liberal application makes a woman look common and desperate. Wit is knowing how to apply it.