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Christian’s lips turned up into a sneer. “He told me something.” “And?” “And I don’t want to hear it from Mason.” His sneer cranked up when I glared. “You sent him to apologize for you. Step up and do it yourself.” “You’re a jerk,” I informed him. “Yeah. And you’re a liar. I want to see you eat your pride.”
“Rose.” The voice was like silk on my skin. Gentle. Rich.
😆😆
I liked the way he looked at me, like I was the sexiest, most wonderful thing in the world. I liked the way he would say my name in Russian, murmured like a prayer: Roza, Roza . . .
Eeeekkkkk
your feelings, your passion, your anger. It makes you remarkable. It makes you dangerous.”
Chefs kiss
“No. If I let myself love you, I won’t throw myself in front of her. I’ll throw myself in front of you.”
AHHHHHHHHH
