The Hitman's Dancer Quotes

“He raises his head and smiles, his hips still bucking wildly. “Lucy…” he whispers my name, his voice smooth as butter. I look into his eyes to find the stunning waves of blue looking back at me. The killer is gone. Either that or the killer has taken over me.”
― Tabatha Kiss, The Hitman's Dancer

“Where did you learn to play like that?” I shrug. “My father taught me.” He shakes his head. “No, your father is in gambling debt up to his eyeballs. He never wins. This came from somewhere else…” “The rules I learned from him,” I say. “The rest… well, watch a man make the same mistakes repeatedly and you tend to learn from them yourself.”
― Tabatha Kiss, The Hitman's Dancer

“Keep up, Mr. Hart.” “Dante.” “I’m not calling you that.” “Why not?” “Because first names are informal.” “You’re sitting on my floor, drinking whiskey, and playing cards. If that’s not informal, I’d love to know what you think this is.”
― Tabatha Kiss, The Hitman's Dancer

“I don’t have to sleep with you?” “As long as you keep your hands to yourself. If you touch me at all, your body is forfeit.”
― Tabatha Kiss, The Hitman's Dancer

“My eyes fall on him and I pause. He stands up from the chair in front of my father’s desk. His eyes travel the length of me as mine bounce down his. He’s younger than I thought he’d be, probably not a day over thirty, and tall with short, ash brown hair, tanned skin, and a clear face — not a scratch on it meaning he’s either very new or very, very good at his job.”
― Tabatha Kiss, The Hitman's Dancer

“Lucy, I’m begging you,” he says, whispering with bite. “Just go out with the guy for one night.” “Why the hell would I do that?” He hesitates. “I owe some money to some bad people—”
― Tabatha Kiss, The Hitman's Dancer

“I don’t want to hurt your daughter, Mr. Vaughn,” I say. “I simply request the pleasure of her company for the evening.” “You…” He shifts in his chair. “You’ll pay my debt for a night with my daughter?”
― Tabatha Kiss, The Hitman's Dancer

“A lonely photo sits on the middle shelf, about eye-level with him if he were to gaze over his shoulder. A girl. Young. Long hair tied back in a tight bun on the top of her head. Petite and fit. She wears a skin-tight, pink leotard and ballet shoes with one pointed foot raised high against a beam. Graceful, elegant. Familiar.”
― Tabatha Kiss, The Hitman's Dancer