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

I’ve won his heart, but it’s like owning a house in which most of the doors are permanently locked. He wants to shield me from all unpleasantness. And it’s not really marriage—not like the marriage you have with Cam—until he’s willing to share the worst of himself as well as the best of himself.

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

The problem with chasing after happiness was that it wasn't a destination you could reach. It was something that happened along the way.

What you should really be sorry for," he continued, "is that for the rest of my life, I'll have to avoid wine cellars to keep from thinking about you." "Why? Was kissing me that bad?" A devil-solf whisper. "No sweetheart. It was that good.

I know when something is too important to be decided by logic.

Some things are better when it’s raining. Like reading. Or sleeping. Or this.” “Lying in bed with me?