How old are you? Twelve?" "Fourteen & three quarters." His eyes sparkled. "You're kind of little for fourteen and three quarters." "Am not," I replied indignantly. "I'm a sophomore this year. How old are you?" "Seventeen and two fifths." Hardy Cateses & Liberty Jones.
Lisa KleypasSweet,โ he whispered, and stole a kiss from her lips. โSweetโฆ let me stay with you a little longer.โ -Jack to Amanda
Lisa KleypasAnd you're not the kind of girl I want." Surely he couldn't mean the fact that I was Mexican. From what I knew of Hardy, there wasn't a bit of prejudice in him. He never used racist words, never looked down on someone for things they couldn't help. "What kind do you want?" I asked with difficulty. "Someone I can leave without looking back.
Lisa KleypasItโs impossible,โ he snapped. โWhy?โ โBecause Iโm Sebastian, Lord St. Vincent. I canโt be celibate. Everyone knows that.
Lisa KleypasI'm not short," Daisy muttered. "Short women are never mysterious, or elegant, or pursued by handsome men. And they're always treated like children. I refuse to be short.
Lisa KleypasI had learned that there were substitutes for a mother who couldn't be a mother. You could find love with other people. You could find it in places you weren't even looking. But the original wound would never heal. I would carry it with me forever, and so would Tara. That was the trick . . . accepting it, going on with your life, knowing it was part of you.
Lisa Kleypas