Why is it”—she shivered as he kissed the top of her spine, went lower—“that I always end up naked while you remain dressed?” A husky masculine chuckle, his lips moving over her shoulder, his hands on her hips. “Because I'm a smart man.

No one goes through life with a whole heart.

I want no blood from you--not until we're both sweaty and naked and you're screaming my name.

Be gentle with him, Mercy. He's got a heart as big as Texas— he'll die for you without blinking. But he doesn't expect anyone to do the same for him.

One thing I've always wondered—why did you enter that bikini contest when you were a teenager?” Her face flushed with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. “How far back did you trace me?” “Far enough.” A pause. “You didn't answer my question.” “And you didn't turn into a puff of smoke and disappear. The world is full of disappointments.

No,” he responded, reaching out to trace the shell of her ear. “They grew back even more beautiful. Blue edged with silver.” Elena laughed at the scowl in his voice.

Once, he'd used it in song, but the songs in his heart had gone silent long ago, and he knew that one day so would his voice. A man with nothing inside him eventually had nothing to say.