“It’s beautiful, dulceață,” he said, his tone awed. “Do you see? Beautiful.” “What is?” “The snow. The night.” His arms tightened. “You.” I eyed him warily. “Thanks?”

“It’s his story to tell—or not tell,” he said, not meeting her eyes. “Do you see those stained glass windows? They’re beautiful, but you can’t see their true magnificence until sunlight touches them. I believe Blake’s the same way.”

“[Rick] “Do you know how beautiful you are?”Disbelief shimmered in her eyes. “Thank you, but—”He closed the distance between them. She gasped as he grabbed her hand and laid it on his straining erection. “This is what you do to me. From the moment I laid eyes on you I wanted you. By the end of the night, you’re going to believe it, sweetheart. Make no mistake.”

“His eyes searched mine. "Thank you." "For What?" I loved the feel of his arms around me and how I fit against him, hard against soft. He trailed his fingers over my arm, and I was amazed by how he could make me shiver. "For everything," he said.”

“Oliver heard Louis’ voice before he saw him. “Beautiful women?” he was saying. Then the door opened and the woman reappeared, holding the wooden lion between her arms. “Where are they? Have they come to see the -- Oliver!” “Hello, Louis,” Oliver said. Louis pointed at him. “He’s no beautiful woman!” he said. Then he noticed Sophie and Julia and his whole attitude changed. He dropped his voice to a husky tone. “Why, hello there, ladies.”

“He put his hand on mine. I fell into him, knowing what he would do, what he must do, and he did. He opened his arms and held me, and I let him embrace me. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s okay.”