My peer would have to be dark-haired and handsome, a wonderful dancer... and he would never ask permission before he kissed me." -Lillian Bowman

Ah, Evie,” she heard him say softly, “I must have a heart, after all…because right now it aches like the devil.” “Only your heart?” she asked ingenuously, making him laugh. He lowered her to the bed, his eyes sparkling wickedly. “Also a few other things,” he conceded. “And as my wife, it’s your duty to ease all my aches.

If I'm to change my life for you, I've got to have some hope." "I don't want you to change your life for me. You'll have to make the same decision every day, over and over - it must be for yourself alone.

Hunt seemed similarly indifferent to the show, his head inclined toward hers, his gaze locked on her face. Though his breathing remained soft and disciplined, it seemed to her that its rhythm had changed ever so slightly. Annabelle moistened her dry lips. “You …you mustn’t stare at me like that.” Soft as the murmur was, he caught it. “With you here, nothing else is worth looking at.

I figured I couldn't love you as much as I do, without you feeling something for me too.

You don’t annoy me.” Carefully he rebuttoned the placket of her shirt. “I thought you did, at first. But now I realize it was more like the feeling you get when your foot’s been asleep. And when you start moving, the blood coming back into it is uncomfortable . . . but also good. Do you understand what I mean?” “Yes. I make your feet tingle.” A smile came to his lips. “Among other things.

But sometimes normal just isn't happening. Sometimes crazy feels too good to resist.