To Say That Men Can Be Bullheaded

Annabel Looked Down. Her Hands Were Shaking. She Couldn't Do This. Not Yet. She Couldn't Face The Man She'd Kissed Who Happened To Be The Heir To The Man She Didn't Want To Kiss But Whos She Probably Was Going To Marry. Oh Yes, And She Could Not Forget That If She Did Marry The Man She Didn't Want To Kiss, She Was Likely To Provide Him With A New Heir, Thus Cutting Off The Man She Did Want To Kiss.

There Are Moments In A Woman's Life When Her Heart Flips In Her Chest, When The World Suddenly Seems Uncommonly Pink And Perfect, When A Symphony Can Be Heard In The Tinkle Of A Doorbell.

Caroline, Do You Value Your Neck?" "yes, I'm Rather Fond Of It. Why?" "because If You Don't Shut Up, I'm Going To Wring It.

Let Me Drive," She Said, Reaching For The Reins. He Turned To Her In Disbelief. "this Is A Phaeton, Not A Single-horse Wagon." Sophie Fought The Urge To Throttle Him. His Nose Was Running, His Eyes Were Red, He Couldn't Stop Coughing, And Still He Found The Energy To Act Like An Arrogant Peacock. "i Assure You," She Said Slowly, "that I Know How To Drive A Team Of Horses.

To Call That Writing, Madam, Is An Insult To Quills And Ink Across The World.