Captain Phelan,” Cam asked, choosing his words with care. “Have you come to ask for our consent to marry Beatrix?” Christopher shook his head. “If I decide to marry Beatrix, I’ll do it with or without your consent.” Leo looked at Cam. “Good God,” he said in disgust. “This one’s worse than Harry.

I had to admit the man looked amazing in jeans. The ancient denim clung lightly to his hips and followed the long lines of some remarkable thigh muscles. And although I made a point of not checking out his rear view, my peripheral vision was having a very good day.” ~ Haven Travis on Hardy Cates

For God's sake, Marks, do you think anyone really wants a glance at those dried-up matchsticks you call legs?

What happened to your stammer?" "I suppose I must feel comfortable with you. I tend to stammer less with certain people." "No one's ever told me that I'm a comfortable sort. I'm sure I don't like it. I'll have to do something diabolical soon to correct your impression.

It's difficult for most of us to be completely honest with ourselves - we hate to admit how vulnerable or needful we are.

Sometimes people don't have to make you love them...you just do, and there's no help for it.

Can't you just tell me now?" "No, I need someone to eat with." A slight smile rose to my lips. "Am I supposed to believe that I'm your only option?" "No. But you're my favorite option.