Speaking of the sick, twisted freak, have you caught sight of the bastard?"
Jack gave a short, expressive snort. "Um, that would be a negative. I've never actually seen Sean."
"I sent you an image."
"Tails and horns aren't exactly the real deal, ken. You gave me a picture of the devil.
But I'm not any better at relationships than you are. We'll find our way together, even if we're fumbling around in the dark for a while.
Christine FeehanListen, Sebastian," he whispered. "That beautiful sound belongs to us for the rest for our lives. That's your mother. She's sunshine. No matter what happens in our lives, we have that.
Christine FeehanOn the other hand, she never looked as -big- as she did at that moment.
"What?" Rose demanded, glaring up at him.
The warning signal flashed bright red in Kane's head. Telling a woman she was as big as a beach ball wouldn't win any points. How did one describe how she looked? A basketball? Volleyball? He studied her furious little face. Yeah. He was in big trouble no matter what he said. Description was out of the question. He needed diplomacy, something that flew out of the window when he was near her and she said the words like contractions.
One thing about Kane - he never did anything by halves.
Christine FeehanAre you going to win every argument?" He was pretty certain he'd asked her that once before. May be twice.
"Only the important ones.
You are such a chicken. Bock. Bock. Bock."
He refused to allow her very bad chicken impression to ruffle his feathers. He was above petty name-calling.
Baby don't do this." He whispered the words. Why did he thought if she cried she'd feel better? It was too much, too much sorrow for her. He pulled her beneath him, lying over her, somehow trying with his body to protect her from the ggrief.
She came awake, her eyes wide, black. Swimming with tears. "Nicholas? What is it?" He touched his face, the lines of worry there.
"You're crying, honey. I thought it would be good for you to cry, but not like this, not in your sleep where I can't share it with you."
"I can't be crying." Dahlia wiped at the tears on her face with a kind of horror. "I never cry."
"You are crying."
"I can't stop." She looked desperate. "Make me stop, Nicholas, Make it stop.
You aren't worried are you?"
"Why should I be worried? It's just another day in the neighborhood. You know - bombs, fires, people shooting at you. Why should I be worried? Especially since we could be clothes shopping or boarding a plane. I'm not in the least worried."
"Hmmm," he mused allowed. "I read about this in the relationship manual. It's called womanly sarcasm and usually means a man is in deep trouble.
I am not going to say you are right because I could not take it if you smirked."
"I do not smirk," Vikirnoff claimed.
"Yes, you do. And I detest that after all these centuries, you are making sense. Frankly, its scary."
"It is only that you are not making sense sunce you acquired a lifemate. I hope that does not happen to all men. It would be a shame."
"Your sense of humor is not improving," Nicolae pointed out dryly.
"I do not have a sense of humor." Vikirnoff answered.
"I had not noticed," Nicolae teased.
« ; premier précédent
Page 10 de 38.
suivant dernier » ;
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.