You'll be my wife," he said inexorably.
"You want to own me!" she accused, trying to crawl away from him.
"Yes." He flung her down on the bed and flattened his weight on her. As he spoke, his hot breath fanned
her mouth and chin. "Yes. I want other people to look at you and know you're mine. I want you to take
my name and my money. I want you to
live with me. I want to be inside you . . . part of your thoughts . . . your body . . . all of you. I want you to
trust me. I want to give you whatever elusive, impossible, goddamned mysterious thing it is you need in
order to be happy. Does that frighten
you? Well, it frightens the hell out of me. Don't you think I'd stop feeling this way if I could? It's not as if
you're the easiest woman in the world!!
Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.
Lisa KleypasI've been exactly that lonly. You're not connected to anything. Some nights it feels like you're dying by the hour. You're so desperate you can't even attract the kind of person you once swore you'd never settle for.
Lisa KleypasI learned that a sense of privacy doesn't have to depend on walls and doors. At least not external ones. Two people could sit in a room and read or work separately without ever breaking the silence. It's an ability to put up walls in your mind, so no one can get through.
Lisa KleypasNo one can tell you what your path is . . . but someday you'll discover it. . . and it won't be at all what you expected.
Lisa KleypasA veces las fisuras de dos almas separadas puede ser lo que las une.
Lisa KleypasAnnabelle stared straight ahead at the canvas, neither seeing nor caring about the fluctuations of light and color that conveyed impressions of approaching nightfall…the dusk of the Roman Empire. Hunt seemed similarly indifferent to the show, his head inclined toward hers, his gaze locked on her face. Though his breathing remained soft and disciplined, it seemed to her that its rhythm had changed ever so slightly.
Annabelle moistened her dry lips. “You…you mustn’t stare at me like that.”
Soft as the murmur was, he caught it. “With you here, nothing else is worth looking at.
Stichwörter: omg-chills-chills
Simon,” she whispered, vaguely surprised that she had just used his first name, for she had never used it even in the privacy of her thoughts. Moistening her dry lips, she tried once more, and to her astonishment, she did it again. “Simon…”
“Yes?” A new tension had entered his long, hard body, and at the same time, his hand moved over the shape of her skull in the softest caress possible.
“Please… take me to my room.”
Hunt tilted her head back gently and regarded her with a sudden faint smile playing on his lips. “Sweetheart, I would take you to Timbuktu if you asked.
Stichwörter: swoon
Although Annabelle couldn’t see his face, she heard the note of quiet warning in his voice as he spoke to Westcliff. “We’ll continue our discussion later. Right now I intend to escort Miss Peyton to her room.”
“That is not a wise idea, in my opinion,” the earl said.
“I’m glad I didn’t ask for it, then,” Simon returned pleasantly.
You’re mad,” he said in a low voice, “if you think I would leave you now. I’ll see you safe and well no matter what it takes.
Lisa KleypasStichwörter: romantic romance historical-romance
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