“His chest swelled with pride at her words. “Good, because no one touches my girl unless she wants to be touched. No woman should ever be violated. That’s something my mom made sure we understood. She said a woman’s body was a temple, and you should never enter it without an invitation. I was just a kid and didn’t understand at the time, but she stressed it so much that I remember.”

“Carmel’s a very pretty girl,” she says hopefully. “Thomas seems to think so.” She sighs, then smiles. “Good. He could use a woman’s touch.” “Mom,” I groan. “Gross.” “Not that kind of touch,” she laughs.”

“deep down...she's a good woman...you should be proud of her." When I told my mom about this, she just looked very sad because he could never say those things to her. Not ever. Not even when he walked her down the aisle.”

“Has any woman ever touched you?" she asked as she splayed her fingers over his thigh."No.""Do you want a woman to touch you?""No."She stilled, and Clay pushed himself up. He cradled her check in his palm. "I want you to touch me.”

“Damn, you're good,' he said and rolled onto his back. The man wasn't much for flowery speech, Alesandra thought with a smile. It didn't matter. She was arrogantly proud of herself because she'd pleased him. Perhaps she should give him a little praise too. She rolled onto her side to face him, put her hand on his chest directly over his pounded heart, and whispered. 'You're good, too. 'Tis the truth, you're the best I've ever had.' He opened his eyes to look at her. 'I'm the only one you've ever had, remember?' His voice was gruff with affection. 'I remember,' she said. 'No other man is ever going to touch you, Alesandra. You're mine.”

“Her touch was as knowing and confident as her eyes, and as she focused all her attention upon me, I remembered that there is nothing so thrilling as a woman of words when she decides that the time for words is past.”