She was breathtaking in her beauty and her human spirit, he thought, unable to speak as he gazed upon her. Hers was the sort that would not fade or grow jaded with time and years, but flourish, grow more radiant with life and its experience. Hers was a beauty that no other possessed. A beauty he longed to keep, to hide away, to bask in, himself alone. She had become his. He didn’t know when, whether it had been the moment her fingertips had touched him when he was hurt, or if it had grown, like a seed, slowing spreading until Jane had become the root anchoring the shattered pieces of his heart, pulling them tight together until it resembled the organ it should.
Charlotte FeatherstoneMots clés love beauty romance jane sinful wallingford
I can say that I have fallen deeper in love with you today, knowing the sort of man you are.
Charlotte FeatherstoneMots clés love sinful wallingford
Jane, you are my confidante, my helpmate, my friend. My lover. You are everything the word wife means to me. In my heart, we are wed. In my soul, you are mine.
Charlotte FeatherstoneMots clés love wife jane sinful soulmate wallingford
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