A smile flickered across Coral’s face. “Have you ever noticed that once you have had a taste of certain sweets—raspberry trifle is my own despair—it is quite impossible not to think, not to want, not to crave until you have taken another bite?” “Lord Swartingham is not a raspberry trifle.” “No, more of a dark chocolate mousse, I should think,” Coral murmured. “And,” Anna continued as if she hadn’t heard the interruption, “I don’t need another bite, uh,night of him.

I decided long ago that my family absolutely comes first, and I don't regret that. I do, however, sometimes wish I had an extra five hours or so in the day!

I watched you for years,” she whispered. The tears were drying on her cheeks, and heat was building within her. If he would just touch her. Touch her there. “I watched you and you never saw me.

He watched her retreat, his eyes lazy, and his body unmoving. A trickle of blood seeped slowly from the corner of his mouth. He let her get nearly out of the room before he spoke, “I may not have the right, Silence, me love,” he drawled so soft she nearly didn’t catch the words. “But I would’ve listened to ye. I would’ve believed ye.

If I'm good enough to bed, surely I'm good enough to wed.

I think I do pretty well with child characters. It's hard to write kids that are realistic, not annoying, and bring something to the story.

Shhh,” he murmured against her mouth. “Don’t talk. Don’t think. Just feel.