If you lust after someone and have an absurd and overwhelming need to protect them, then the best way to deal with the situation is to marry the person.
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I lied. I do that, you know, when it suits me. I would have thought you'd realized that by now.
And telling you I care about you is a waste of time. I wouldn't have crossed the ocean, come out of hiding, tracked you down, if you didn't matter to me.
He was sound asleep, his long legs stretched out in front of him, the blessed fire blazing, an empty bottle of wine by his side. He hadn't been shaved recently, and he looked rumpled, dissolute and beautiful. Like a fallen angel. She moved to stand in front of him and pointed the pistol directly at his heart. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he murmured, and then he opened his extraordinary eyes. "It's always unwise to shoot the man you're in love with.
If I am ever in the position where I wish to seduce someone I will simply assure her it’s better than rats.
She had the underwear of a thirteen-year-old, as well, he thought. He glanced back at her. But the shoes of a courtesan.
She froze. He reached up and took her hand in his, pulling the knife away, making her drop it on the floor. "Show me how much you hate me," he whispered against her mouth. "Prove it to me.
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