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“So which is it, Major Wolfe? I’m spoiled because all men fall at my feet or I’m in danger because they don’t?”
“I am not a gun, Thorn. Nor do I belong to you, to be loaned out to the major on consignment.” “More’s the pity,” the duke grumbled. “He might actually be able to keep you in line.”
Joshua looked down at her, his mind racing. Then he did the only thing that would both hide their faces and make it believable that they were still close by. “Play along,” he murmured. And pulling her against him, he covered her mouth with his.
“Now you sound like a prude, which I know quite well you are not.” “Not around you anyway.” When she looked stricken, he added hastily, “And it has naught to do with some secret ‘harlotry’ in your makeup. It has far more to do with the fact that I can’t resist you. I’ve fought hard to do so for the past several months, and all it did was make me want you more.”
“Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel. If wanting to hold him close one minute and strangle him the next is love—” “It sure as the devil is part of it.” Beatrice glanced away. “But mostly it’s about trust . . . trusting someone enough to know that no matter what you tell them, they’ll be on your side, and it won’t change how they feel about you. That’s why you should never give your heart to someone you don’t trust.”
“The thing about love is, it’s like drinking fire and trusting it not to burn you, though it seems to burn everyone else. It means trusting someone when by all accounts you shouldn’t. Because you know, somewhere deep in your heart, that the person you’re trusting is worthy of that.”
You surprise me every single day. You surprised me when you chose me to be your bodyguard, you surprised me the first time you responded to my kiss, and you downright shocked me by agreeing to marry me. If anything, I should be trying to surprise you.”
