“What's your name?” When she said nothing, he sighed. “You'll find that cooperating will go a long way with me.”“Fine,” she bit out. “It's Sela.”"See? That didn't hurt, did it?” He pushed to his feet, giving her the opportunity she needed.Rolling, she swung her legs out, caught him in the knees...and he went down like a log. Granted, he was up again in a heartbeat, snarling with fury, but still, it felt good to give him a good whack.“You can't help it, can you?” he snapped. “You keep doing stupid things.”“You keep pissing me off!”He blinked. And then he laughed, and good Lord, the man was drop-dead, fucking gorgeous when he did that.-Logan and Sela”

“Then I guess the only thing left is for you to prove that you're up to the challenge. Give me a smile that isn't a sneer."He wasn't expecting that, to go by his sudden surprise. But it was a reasonable request. She wasn't going to carry the entire charade on her shoulders alone. He had to do his share.But she wasn't expecting one of those amazing smiles he'd dazzled her with before that fateful night she'd spent in his bed. She sucked in a sharp breath. Her heart started to thump loudly. Good God,how could he still do this to her?"You don't need to be that convincing!" she snapped, and swung around to get her eyes off him. "Save your seductive smiles for you legion of conquests. I won't be one of those,so a decent smile will do,thank you."He actually laughed. "That was normal smile, Becca. If you don't believe me,turn around and I'll show you the difference.""No! Seducing me isn't part of this bargain.""Of course not.For now,this happy marriage is for show only and I have already promised to keep my hands off you, haven't I?""Then henceforth keep your lips off me, too," she said on her way out the door. "There's to be no more accidental kisses."She heard him laugh again before she closed the door behind her. Good Lord, what had she just agreed to? This was never going to work!”

“You're not just doing that to impress her, are you?""Everything I do is to impress her. It's my mission in life," he said with a completely serious face, while he squeezed my knee under the table. Mom burst out laughing. "I like him," she said."Me too. I think I'll keep him," I said, taking his hand and twisting my fingers with his. "Good," he said, giving my hand a squeeze.”

“I...I'm sorry," Kylie mumbled."Don't you even try to talk your way out of me being pissed!" Burnett growled. "Not a word!""I just...""That's two words and I said not one!" he snapped, and he swiped his hand through the air for emphasis.Kylie bit down on her lip, and wouldn't you know it that's when the tears started flowing. Big, fat, and fast tears. She sniffled and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. Her breath caught in her chest. But damn it. Why couldn't this have happened when she was alone?"Those tears do not affect me, young lady!" He pointed a finger at her. While she couldn't hear his heart beat to the rhythm of a lie, she heard it in his voice. ***"I just...""Did I say you could talk?" he asked. He did three more pacing laps, as if working off steam, before he looked at her again. "Where were you going, Kylie?"When she just looked at him, he bit out, "Answer me.""You said I couldn't talk.”

“My name...my name is Mary. I'm here with a friend.'Rhage stopped breathing. His heart skipped a beat and then slowed. "Say that again,' he whispered.'Ah, my name is Mary Luce. I'm a friend of Bella's...We came here with a boy, with John Matthew. We were invited.'Rhage shivered, a balmy rush blooming out all over his skin. The musical lilt of her voice, the rhythm of her speech, the sound of her words, it all spread through him, calming him, comforting him. Chaining him sweetly.He closed his eyes. 'Say something else.''What?' she asked, baffled.'Talk. Talk to me. I want to hear your voice.'She was silent, and he was about to demand that she speak when she said, 'You don't look well. Do you need a doctor?'He found himself swaying. The words didn't matter. It was her sound: low, soft, a quiet brushing in his ears. He felt as if here being stroked on the inside of his skin. 'More,' he said, twisting his palm around to the front of her neck so he could feel the vibrations in her throat better. 'Could you... could you please let go of me?''No.' He brought his other arm up. She was wearing some kind of fleece, and he moved the collar aside, putting his hand on her shoulder so she couldn't get away from him. 'Talk.'She started to struggle. 'You're crowding me.''I know. Talk.''Oh for God's sake, what do you want me to say?'Even exasperated, her voice was beautiful. 'Anything.''Fine. Get your hand off my throat and let me go or I'm going to knee you where it counts.'He laughed. Then sank his lower body into her, trapping her with his thighs and hips. She stiffened against him, but he got an ample feel of her. She was built lean, though there was no doubt she was female. Her breasts hit his chest, her hips cushioned his, her stomach was soft.'Keep talking,' he said in her ear. God, she smelled good. Clean. Fresh. Like lemon.When she pushed against him, he leaned his full weight into her. Her breath came out in a rush.'Please,' he murmured. Her chest moved against his as if she were inhaling. 'I... er, I have nothing to say. Except get off of me.'He smiled, careful to keep his mouth closed. There was no sense showing off his fangs, especially if she didn't know what he was. 'So say that.''What?''Nothing. Say nothing. Over and over and over again. Do it.' She bristled, the scent of fear replaced by a sharp spice, like fresh, pungent mint from a garden. She was annoyed now. 'Say it.'"Fine. Nothing. Nothing.' Abruptly she laughed, and the sound shot right through to his spine, burning him. 'Nothing, nothing. No-thing. No-thing. Noooooothing. There, is that good enought for you? Will you let me go now?”

“She tries to move toward him, but the path is covered with gravel, which slows her down. Then he turns his head and sees her. He puts down his brush and comes closer, and the closer he comes, the closer he comes, the happier she is she didn't put on mascara, she doesn't want to cry but she can't help it, she can hardly see him through the welling tears. She quickly wipes her eyes. She looks at him. He's standing two steps away. She could stretch out her hand, he'd come even closer, she could touch him. He's the same, thinner, the most beautiful man in the world, with the eyes Germain Pire described to her, a very pale blue, almost gray, quiet and gentle, with something struggling in their depths, a child, a soul of agony. His voice hasn't changed.The first thing she hears him say--it's terrible--he asks her, "You can't walk?" She shakes her head. He sighs, goes back to his painting. She pushes the wheels, moves toward the shed. He looks over at her again, he smiles. "You want to see what I'm doing?" She nods her head. "I'll show you in a little bit," he says. "But not right now, it's not finished."So while she waits, she sits up straight in her scooter, she crosses her hands in her lap, she looks at him. Yes, she looks at him, she looks at him, life is long and can still carry a great deal more on its back.She looks at him.”