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He had not struggled through one hundred and thirty years of life to let a little thing like temptation suck him into total annihilation.
“Pay no mind to me, sir. There are times when my mouth and brain forget to hold a conversation.”
I doubt that you could handle me. Somehow I think you prefer your women either unavailable or subservient. I am neither.”
“If you’ve plans to swoon simply so you can look up my skirts, I’ll kick your head and leave you where you lie.”
She’d twisted him around her finger without effort, and all he wanted now was for her to twist harder.
“At the very least, you know who you are.” Her gaze returned to him. “There are days when I look in the mirror and don’t even recognize myself. I’ve become merely shapes and colors. In truth, I hardly know who I am anymore, or if I was ever anyone at all.”
Only a boy would view anticipation as a trap.
