Colin decided then and there that the female mind was a strange and incomprehensible organ - one which no man should even attempt to understand. There wasn't a woman alive who could go from point A to B without stopping at C, D, X, and 12 along the way.
Anthony looked down at his evil clutches -- hands, he reminded himself, hands -- and grinned anew.
And if you say that's because you lot barged into her home like a herd of mentally deficient sheep, I'm disowning all three of you.
Sometimes Hen...I think I would give my life just for one of your smiles.
Blake took a small roll from the tray on the table, then put it back in favor of a larger one. And maybe a little butter. It certainly couldn't hurt. And jam...no, he drew the line at jam. She was a spy, after all.
This has to be the most self-centered thing I've ever said, but no, I think you just wanted to vex me.
He smacked the heel of his hand against his forhead, as if that could knock the mental picture out of his head. Hell, he though irritably, he didn't want to knock the image just out of his head. He wanted to send it clear across the room and out the window.
It was heaven. Forget angels, forget St. Peter and glittering harpsichords. Heaven was a dance in the arms of one's true love.
