He raised his hand in a peaceful gesture. "You need to relax a bit, dove. Like Mouse over there. You trust me, don't you, Mouse?" "Nope!" "Ahhh, I'm hurt. Nobody likes me.

Some women waited for a night in shining armor. She, apparently, had ended up with a knight in black jeans and leather, who wanted to chase her down and have his evil way with her.

I almost had her." Curran nodded. "I heard. And you could've taken her, too." My voice came out flat. "Rub it in, why don't you." He grinned. "No time for that now, maybe later." I closed my eyes. There wouldn't be any later. "Are you imagining me rubbing it in?" he asked.

Having a fling with you doesn't appeal to me. You're handsome, but you're too inexperienced to be good in bed. Having ridden many horses doesn't make you a good rider; it just proves that you can't recognize a good one or don't know how to keep her.

Her imagination painted Georgie twenty years later, sitting in leg irons before some Broken psychiatrist. "Well, you see, it all started with bubbles.

Yep.” Eloquence ’R’ Us. When in trouble, keep it monosyllabic—safer that way.

I was so happy to be out of there. “Barabas, if you weren’t batting for the other team, I’d marry you.” He grinned. “If I weren’t batting for the other team, I would accept your proposal. You had me at ‘No comment.’ If all my clients were this smart, my life would be much easier. Much, much easier.