Those blue eyes glinted with uncivilized suggestion. A faint smile was tucked in the corner of his wide mouth. Definitely wouldn't want to be alone in a room with that guy, I thought. His gaze moved downward in lazy inspection, returned to my face, and he gave me one of those respectful nods that Texan men had raised to an art form.

It's drugs, isn't it"? Tara was so innocent. She got pulled into that glamorous lifestyle with all her rich friends...all that cocaine dust floating around, she probably inhaled some by accident, and then -' 'There's no such thing as secondhand cocaine snorting, Mom.

Having regrets is the only sign that you’ve done anything interesting with your life.

That drew a mocking laugh from Lillian. “Really, someone should tell St. Vincent that he’s a living cliché. He has become the embodiment of everything they say about reformed rakes.

Hunt looked like a man who had visited many woman's beds and knew exactly what to do in them.

The Rom believe you should take the road that calls to you, and never turn back. Because you never know what adventures await." ... "So we're going to take this road," he murmured, "and see where it leads.

What kind of wedding would you like?" he asked, and stole another kiss before she could reply. "The kind that turns you into my husband." She touched the firm line of his mouth with her fingers. "What kind would you like?" He smiled ruefully. "A fast one.