But She Was Already In. Gareth Couldn't

And For The Rest Of The Night, He Couldn’t Quite Forget The Smell Of Her Perfume. Or Maybe It Was The Soft Sound Of Her Chuckle. Or Maybe It Was Neither Of Those Things. Maybe It Was Just Her.

It Wasn‟t Even Desire. It Was Far More Than That. It Was Love. Love. With A Capital L And Swirly Script And Hearts And Flowers And Whatever Else The Angels— And Yes, All Those Annoying Little Cupids—wished To Use For Embellishment.

No One Knows As Well As I How Much Nonsense Is Printed In Books.

She Was Petite, Small In That Way That Made A Man Want To Slay Dragons.

You Should Be Thankful That Dark Colors Suit You. Not Everyone Wears Black Well." "why, Lady Olivia, Is That A Compliment?" "not So Much As A Compliment To You As An Insult To Everyone Else," She Assured Him. "thanks Heaven For That. I Don't Think I Would Know How To Conduct Myself In A World In Which You Offered Compliments.