It’s not all about what you want. It’s also about what she wants. No matter what your intentions, most women don’t like it when you make their decisions for them.
His low, dark voice curled in her ear. “There’s a saying we have about whisky: Slow fire makes sweet malt.
All he knew was that after he left, he’d have to learn how to live with his heart beating somewhere far away.
Darling,” she said reasonably, “you can’t put your foot down, I’ve already put my foot down.
Sometimes people you want to believe in will disappoint you. The more you learn about the world, the fewer illusions you’ll have.
There’s very little in life that doesn’t require a compromise of one kind or another. No matter what you choose, it won’t be perfect.
A true friend will tell you when he thinks you’re making a mistake.
Why does everyone always claim women are illogical when men are a hundred times more so? First they want something, then they don’t, then they make irrational decisions based on secrets they won’t explain and no one is supposed to question them because a man’s word is final.
I love you,” he repeated hoarsely, burrowing against her. “I would have given my life to have one more day with you, and tell you that.
Do you ever enter a room the ordinary way?” he asked curtly, “or is it your usual habit to slink past the threshold and pop up like a jack-in-the-box?
You know I can’t let you murder people before dinner,” she murmured. “It throws the entire household off schedule.
You’re not my best friend,” West said, after taking a swallow of brandy. “You’re not even my third best friend.
The only thing Beatrix knows about being circumspect is how to spell it.
He kissed like a man who had lived too fast, learned too late, and had finally found the thing he wanted.
Do as you please. But when you’re with Rohan or any other man, you had better keep in mind that you belong completely to me.
Eavesdroppers hear no good of themselves.” “Yes,” Pandora conceded, “but they hear fascinating things about other people.
Half measures. My God. I love you so much that I’m drowning in it. I can’t defend against it. I don’t know who I am anymore. All I know is that if I give in to it entirely – ” He tried to control the anarchy of his breath. “You mean too much to me,” he said raggedly.
Her presence pierced him like arrows, promising a future of endless unsatisfied wanting.
From time to time, I may adjust a situation to achieve a desired outcome for the benefit of my children, but that’s not meddling.
Blood is no’ what binds a family. Love is.