“You hate him worse than me, you viper,’ he whispered as the stimulant cleared his brain.‘Aye, lord, but here’s the oddity of it - I love him too.’ Morgan replied, her eyes void of all emotion.”
“At least Morgan is honest! Artor thought as he forced his tired lips to smile. She refuses to eat at my table because she is my enemy. How many of my guests pretend?”
“When Cash lifts his head and looks down into my eyes, there’s a wealth of emotion in the dazzling depths, so much so that it brings tears to my eyes. I think of what he told me earlier and I smile up at him. Cupping his handsome face, I whisper against his lips, “Welcome home.”When he kisses me, I know we’re both where we belong.”
“You worry too much. Can’t you just trust me?”“I don’t know,” I answer him honestly.He nods in acceptance. “You’ll learn to. I promise.”And then he kisses me. It’s a slow, deep kiss that carries meaning and emotion, neither of which I know how to interpret.I pull away to speak, but he puts his finger over my lips. “Shhh, just let me love you, okay? Don’t think. Just feel.”
“For my part, when I enter most intimately into what I call myself, I always stumble on some particular perception or other, of heat or cold, light or shade, love or hatred, pain or pleasure. I never can catch myself at any time without a perception, and never can observe any thing but the perception…. If any one, upon serious and unprejudic'd reflection thinks he has a different notion of himself, I must confess I can reason no longer with him. All I can allow him is, that he may be in the right as well as I, and that we are essentially different in this particular. He may, perhaps, perceive something simple and continu'd, which he calls himself; tho' I am certain there is no such principle in me.”
“Auggie said you were too sentimental for your own good sometimes."Out loud he said, "Perhaps, but you have taught me that sentiment is not always a bad thing."I stared up at that impossibly beautiful face, and felt love swell up inside me like a physical force. It filled my body, swelling upward until it made my chest ache, my throat tighten, and my eyes burn. It sounded so stupid. But I loved him. Loved all of him, but loved him more because loving me had made him better. That he would say that I had taught him about being sentimental made me want to cry. Richard reminded me at every turn that I was bloodthirsty and cold. If that were true, then I couldn't have taught Jean-Claude about sentimentality. You can't learn, if you don't have it to teach.He kissed me. He kissed me softly, with one hand lost in the hair to the side of my face. He drew back and whispered, "I never thought to see that look upon your face, not for me.""I love you," I said, and touched his hand where it lay against my face.”
“I can’t stop thinking about doing this to you,” he whispers, so quietly I can barely hear him. “Tell me to stop now if you don’t want this. If you don’t want me.”