He wasn't handsome. That was too calm a word. He was intensely masculine. He was sexual. He attracted.
Karen Marie MoningHe was still frowning at the cake, looking at it as if he expected it to sprout dozens of legs and begin scuttling toward him, thin-lipped, teeth bared.
Karen Marie MoningHome, Ms. Lane?โ His deep voice was gently amused. โI have to call it something,โ I said morosely. โThey say home is where the heart is. I think mineโs satin-lined and six feet under.
Karen Marie MoningIt began as most thing begin. Not on a dark and stormy night. Not foreshadowed by ominous here comes the villain music, dire warning at the bottom of a teacup, or dread portents in the sky. It began small and innocuously, as most catastrophes do. A butterfly flaps its wings somewhere and the wind changes, and a warm front hits a cold front off the coast of western Africa and before you know it youโve got an hurricane closing in. By the time anyone figured out the storm was coming, it was too late to do anything but batten down the hatches and exercise damage control.
Karen Marie MoningOch, Dani my darling, you're not giving me a single reason to wait for you to grow up. You're giving me a thousand reasons not to." It's Christian! I'm so glad it's him, not one of the other princes! I turn around in his arms and tip my head back. "Hi, Christian!" I beam at him. He's hotter than the other princes. I'm glad I got him. I'll take the others, too, but I want him first. "I want to grow up. Now. Hurry.
Karen Marie Moning