She Was A Beautiful Woman, If Not

Ghost?” St. Vincent Shot Him An Incredulous Glance. “christ. You’re Not Serious, Are You?” "i’m A Gypsy,” Cam Replied Matter-of-factly. “of Course I Believe In Ghosts.” “only Half Gypsy. Which Led Me To Assume That The Rest Of You Was At Least Marginally Sane And Rational.” “the Other Half Is Irish,” Cam Said A Touch Apologetically. “christ,” St. Vincent Said Again, Shaking His Head As He Strode Away.

Well, I Find A Strange Comfort In The Fact That He Wouldn't Feel This Degree Of Animosity Now, Had He Not Loved Me So Much Before.

She Felt Him Tremble With The Force Of His Need. He Spoke Just Beneath Her Ear, His Voice Thick With Tormented Pleasure. "you Have To Leave, Sara ... Because I Want To Hold You Like This Until Your Skin Melts Into Mine. I Want You In My Bed, The Smell Of You On My Sheets, Your Hair Spread Across My Pillow. I Want To Take Your Innocence. God! I Want To Ruin You For Anyone Else.

When You Are In Love' Hypocrisy Won Over Principle.

How Do I Look?" Amanda Asked. Jack Shook His Head Ruefully As He Glanced At Her. No One Could Mistake The Remaining Flush On Her Cheeks, Or The Soft Sparkle Of Her Eyes, Or Her Lusciously Swollen Mouth, For Anything Other Than The Results Of Physical Passion. "like You've Been Ravished," He Said Flatly. She Astonished Him By Smiling. "hurry, Please. I Want To Go Inside My House And Consult A Looking Glass. I've Always Wanted To Know What A Ravished Woman Looks Like.