I was stunned to see that he looked stunned himself, which was an exorbitant display of emotion for Barrons.

Barrons was powerful, broodingly good-looking, insanely wealthy, frighteningly intelligent, and had exquisite taste, not to mention a hard body that emitted some kind of constant low-level charge. Bottom line: He was the stuff of heroes. And psychotic killers.

He wasn't just masculine and sexual, he was carnal in a set-your-teeth-on-edge kind of way; he was almost frightning.

Some things are sacred. Until you act like they're not. Then you lose them

Truth hurts. But lies can kill.

Home, Ms. Lane?” His deep voice was gently amused. “I have to call it something,” I said morosely. “They say home is where the heart is. I think mine’s satin-lined and six feet under.

There’s no point in fighting the tide. It ebbs. It flows. You ride it.