The real question is, can you love the real me? Not the perfect person you want me to be, not that image you had of me, but who I really am.

Have you ever heard of a condom? Don't Carpathians have condoms? Because I'm thinking that if you're all that worried, a condom might be just the thing." His smile was slow in coming. "I had not thought of that. As a rule Carpathians do not need such things.

We could get kinky and see how bats and rats make love, he suggested in a whisper, warm breath against her neck. You are a sick man, Jacques. Very, very sick.

I just want some time, Mikhail, to think things through. It’s frightening, the way I am about you. I think about you every minute; I want to touch you, just to know I can, to feel you beneath my fingers. It’s as if you crawled into my head and my heart, even my body, and I can’t get you out.

It's all well and good to look back after the fact and see what we should have done, but we rarely know what path is best when we take that first step.

Of course I can do this. I'm pregnant, not brain-damaged. My condition doesn't change my personality.

King-sized? It would take up all my space. I need wide-open spaces." She glanced at Kane for help, but he was rolling around on a matress and moaning in a loud, orgasmic manner. She rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh.