“He buried his hands in the rich velvet of her hair. “I thought I’d die for wanting you.”

“I'd better pack my bikini, 'cause I'm going to hell. Michaela returned Robin's kiss with fervor, burying her hands in his rich, fiery hair.”

“I love you," she sobbed, rubbing her hands over his face, his hair, his chest, making sure he was solid and real. "I love you, and I thought you were dead. I couldn't bear it. I thought I would die too.""I'd walk through fire for you," he rasped, his voice hoarse and broken. "I have walked through fire for you.”

“I really did have my reasons. I don't blame you for being mmpphhh-phargle."She mmpphh-phargled because he tugged her into his embrace and buried his nose in her hair.”

“I didn’t tell her what I’d done; I told her he wasn’t who I thought he’d be. Mum stroked my hair and said, "Sometimes they aren’t. Sometimes they make you vomit.”

“She turned away in dismissal, only to have him grab her hand and whirl her around again. Before her startled gasp died, his mouth was on hers, his fingers buried in her hair. [...]He tasted like nothing she’d ever tasted before. Like dark fantasy. Like the sweetest temptation imaginable. And his scent! He smelled of cool night air and warm leather jacket and heated male skin.”