You’re a goner, Donovan. When a hungry man spends more time lookin’ at his woman than eatin’ , he’s in 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.

He worked at stealing her heart to replace the one she'd taken from him.

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.

I don't suppose you cook?" Tucker inquired hopefully. "Did you think because she can start fires she'd be great with a grill? Gator asked.

It's Mari, Jack," Ken whispered, needing to say it aloud. "What?" Jack jerked around, staring at the sniper as the eyes fluttered closed. "Are you certain?" Ken pulled the woman's belt loose and buckled it around her leg. "Either that or your wife is playing sniper for the other team. It has to be Mari. She looks exactly like Briony.

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.