I wondered how much of me would be left after tomorrow.

Pretend you're mine," he urged, his arms closing around her. "Just for a minute. Pretend there's never been anyone but me, that I'm the one you're promised to. Do it for me....I'll never ask again.

If I listened to your advice, I'd be making your mistakes instead of my own.

I'm not the marrying kind -" St. Vincent snorted. "No man is. Marriage is a female invention.

Bad divorce?" Hardy asked, his gaze falling to my hands. I realized I was clutching my purse in a death grip. “No, the divorce was great,” I said. “It was the marriage that sucked.

And I wonder how Gage knew this is what my soul has craved. He turns me to face him, his eyes searching. It occurs to me that no one in my life has ever concerned himself so thoroughly with my happiness.

You know what it is you smell on him, Haven? Testosterone. It's leaking out of his pores.