Romantic Eyes Quotes & Sayings

Have you thought about retiring early?" "I've thought about it. I would lose a fair amount of my pension if I did. Besides, what would I do with myself?" "You could work for me." "Work ... as a ranch hand?" She laughed, genuinely amused by the image of herself in a cowboy hat cutting cattle that popped into her head. "I can't even walk in the snow without help." He glared at her. "You're a fantastic rider." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you truly offering me a job?" He stopped shoveling, rested on the hay fork, gave her a lopsided grin. "I would if it would keep you around." Something about that felt more romantic to her than a dozen red roses. "Jack West, you are a charming man." "Me?" He shook his head, got back to shoveling. "I think you need to look that word up in the dictionary, angel. — Pamela Clare

And so, in silence, we walked the surface of a dying world, but in the breast of one of us at least had been born that which is ever oldest, yet ever new.
I loved Dejah Thoris. The touch of my arm upon her naked shoulder had spoken to me in words I would not mistake, and I knew that I had loved her since the first moment my eyes had met hers that first time in the plaza of the dead city of Korad. — Edgar Rice Burroughs

And for a moment there, despite the bruising, despite the snarled dirty hair, despite her sunburned skin and the suffering in her eyes that she refused to let defeat her, she was one of the prettiest things he'd ever seen.
~Dallas and Amy~ — Cindy Gerard

Yeah, I must have been really bad in a past life or something." He smiled, his eyes still in pain. Reaching up, he touched a strand of mt hair. " Don't leave, OK?"
"Shhh. I'm not going anywhere." I kept stroking his forehead, trailing my fingers across it. His muscular shoulders gradually relaxed, his eyes closing again. His breathing slowed, became more regular.
I could hear the TV on in the other room, the sound of voices. None of it mattered to me. I stayed there until long after Alex had fallen asleep
gently caressing the vbrow of the boy I loved, trying to keep his pain at bay. — L.A. Weatherly

Deputy Grayson?"
He turned to stare down into those soft green eyes, his pulse ratcheting up. "Yes, Miss Smith?"
"Thank you." She touched his arm. "And no matter what happens, I promise I'm not a bad person."
She flung her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek....
Warmth rushed through Nash and tingling spread from where Phoebe's lips had touched his cheek. He raised a hand to the spot and stared at the woman, a frown pulling his brows downward.
He hadn't begun the day with the intent of finding a runaway bride stranded on the side of the road. Scenarios like that were only found in those unrealistic romance novels women liked reading.No. He hadn't asked for a kiss. But now that she'd done it, she couldn't undo it, and he couldn't unfeel it. — Elle James

He rose up over her, his arms straight on either side of her shoulders, and slowly withdrew, his flesh dragging against hers.
He was hot and hard.
She spread her thighs, reveling in this lush feeling, his thrusts blunt and hard now, pounding into her body.
And still he watched her, the green of his eyes slivers of want, demanding something of her. Something she was no longer willing to give, it was just too much.
When at last she came, her breaths hitching and halting, her legs trembling, her sex pulsing with every push of his cock, she watched him. She saw when he gritted his teeth, his lips drawn back in need and pleasure.
He shouted her name, loud in her quiet bedroom, as his big body jerked and plunged and emptied itself in her. — Elizabeth Hoyt

She closed her eyes briefly, feeling sick. Olivia had experienced strangulation before. Having to look directly into the face of the person who was killing you made the experience beyond awful. But there were worse things than that. Staring into the void of unresolved memory, living an eternal mystery, waking up night after night seeing the face of someone you desperately wanted to save but having not the slightest clue how to do it - all that was worse. If going through with this experience gave her the answers she needed, if it gave her peace, it would be well worth one-hundred-and-thirty seconds of fear and pain. — Leslie Parrish

The point I was trying to make before you interrupted with your inventory
of my personality is that neither of us is going to be able to stay celibate for the next six months."
She dropped her eyes. If only he knew that she'd stayed that way all her life.
We'll be living in close quarters," he went on. "We're legally married, and it's only natural that we're going to get it on."
Get it on? His bluntness reminded her that none of this meant anything to him emotionally, and contrary to all logic, she'd wanted to hear something romantic. With some pique, she said, "In other words, you expect me to keep house, work for the circus, and 'get it on' with you."
He thought it over. "I guess that's about the size of it. — Susan Elizabeth Phillips

She averted his eyes, but not before he recognized the pain in them, a tormented and languished gaze, a stare preserved for people who were able to love deeply enough that they could be destroyed by it. For a moment, he knew that gaze intimately, remembering it from a time long gone. The ache of a shattered belief once known. He knew that feeling. — Jacqueline Simon Gunn

You'd better be careful, they are going to revoke your vampire license if you get any more romantic and mushy."
"Don't worry," Burnett said, his eyes pinched as if serious. "I can still be a jackass, and kick ass, when it's called for. — C.C. Hunter

You love me," he said. "That's all I need to know."
"You always say the right thing," Savannah told him, her eyes so filled with love that he almost wept. "Sometimes it takes you awhile to get to it, but you always get there, and what you say is always worth waiting for. — Suzanne Brockmann

Burne was drawing farther and farther away from the world about him. He resigned the vice-presidency of the senior class and took to reading and walking as almost his only pursuits. He voluntarily attended graduate lectures in philosophy and biology, and sat in all of them with a rather pathetically intent look in his eyes, as if waiting for something the lecturer would never quite come to. Sometimes Amory would see him squirm in his seat; and his face would light up; he was on fire to debate a point. He grew more abstracted on the street and was even accused of becoming a snob, but Amory knew it was nothing of the sort, and once when Burne passed him four feet off, absolutely unseeingly, his mind a thousand miles away, Amory almost choked with the romantic joy of watching him. Burne seemed to be climbing heights where others would be forever unable to get a foothold. — F Scott Fitzgerald

I can't change the past, Tate. I wish I could, because I'd go back and relive every day that I existed without you, and I'd make sure that you smiled." My eyes burned with regret, and I saw the pools in her beautiful blues, too. "Every minute of my future belongs to you. — Penelope Douglas

But for a long time, and probably far too long, I had a secret wish: the adolescently romantic idea that there was someone out there for me; someone I hadn't met yet who would ask me on a date and make sense of my life. I harbored the hope, I'm now embarrassed to admit, that like a girl in a Lifetime movie, I would look into someone's eyes and find a reflection of my inner life. But sometime between my teenage years and the first years in New York, that idea had pretty well evaporated. I'd grown up. — Diane Meier

Rick looked at his watch and gave a nod. "Yup! We have enough time before our next appointment."
"Enough time for what?" asked Amelia.
He grinned and began dancing around her and singing in jazz style: "Goin' down the bayou! Goin' down the bayou! Goin' down the bayou! Doodle-ee doodle-ee-doo!"
When Rick saw her eyes brighten, he said, I checked out a few bayous at Cross Lake. We're goin' down the bayou, sweetie."
Amelia asked with laughter in her voice, "Were you just singing a Disney tune? From the Princess and the Frog?"
"Yup! I have many talents. — Linda Weaver Clarke

You love me?" My brain was mush and I wasn't sure if it was from his words or the pain pill.
Yes, I love you." His eyes bored into mine.
"
I love you." I traced his cheek with my fingers. "Can you tell me again when I'm not on pain medicine?"
"I'll tell you every day."
"Maybe twice a day?" I felt my eyelids growing heavy.
"A hundred times a day. — Nichole Chase

This is forever." Pulling back to see her expression, Craig was gratified to see the surprise in her eyes. "You really think so?" she whispered back. "Aye," he told her as he kissed her sweet mouth. "I can't lose you again. No matter what happens I will fight like fuck to keep you." Rain gave him a slow, sweet, and slightly smug smile that made him laugh. "And so the realist becomes a romantic." He — Samantha Young

I give you my name, my earthly possessions, and my eternal love. But of all the things I have, the thing I want most to give you are my eyes, these eyes that see how magnificently beautiful you are. — Michelle Marcos

You know how they say that right before you die your life flashes before your eyes? It doesn't. That is just a notion they came up with for books and movies to make death seem romantic. Here's what really happens: Your intestines feel like a dishrag that's being wrung dry and your stomach acts like a balloon when you let the air out of it — Dinah Katt

He had always wanted Daisy, with an intensity that seemed to radiate from the pores of his skin. She was sweet, kind, inventive, excessively reasonable yet absurdly romantic, her dark sparkling eyes filled with dreams. She had occasional moments of clumsiness when her mind was too occupied with her thoughts to focus on what she was doing. She was often late to supper because she had gotten too involved in her reading. She frequently lost thimbles and slippers and pencil stubs. And she loved to stargaze. The never-forgotten sight of Daisy leaning wistfully on a balcony railing one night, her pert profile lifted to the night sky, had charged Matthew with the most blistering desire to stride over to her and kiss her senseless. — Lisa Kleypas

I need you," he said to her, this woman who'd fought for her own right to live her life free of limits, "to build me some remote detonation devices."
Amazing brown eyes shot with blue peering into his as she pressed her nose to his. "You always say the most romantic things. — Nalini Singh

I don't believe in marriage. I think at worst it's a hostile political act, a way for small-minded men to keep women in the house and out of the way, wrapped up in the guise of tradition and conservative religious nonsense. At best, it's a happy delusion - these two people who truly love each other and have no idea how truly miserable they're about to make each other. But, but, when two people know that, and they decide with eyes wide open to face each other and get married anyway, then I don't think it's conservative or delusional. I think it's radical and courageous and very romantic. — Tina Modotti

His name is Richard Bingham and he's an advertising executive at Bingham, Charles & Alexander. And yes, he is the Bingham in the title. He says, "I loved watching you eat your lunch. You really savored the flavors."
I am immediately mortified by his comment as I can only imagine what I must have looked like. I get an image in my head of a phone sex commercial for 1-800 eat-this. I grimace and beg, "Please tell me you were not watching me eat."
But he just smiles, "I couldn't take my eyes off of you. That's why I brought the desserts over. I can die a happy man if you'll just take one bite of each of them for me. — Whitney Dineen

Choose now,' he spat, his eyes practically shooting sparks. 'Me or him.'
'Gosh, Fang, you romantic fool,' I said sarcastically. 'How incredibly sexist-pig of you. — James Patterson

Aaron snorted "That's so cheesy."
"Well yeah. I am cheesy. I'm the king of cheese. You should know that by now.
Aaron's eyes were dancing with amusement. "I prefer to call you classically romantic. — Cleon Lee

Don't you get it Cat? You're the key. I knew it the day I laid eyes on you. — Amanda Bouchet

We all have our pasts. I suspect we keep them nebulous not because we are hiding from our yesterdays but because we think we will cut more romantic figures if we roll our eyes and dispense delicate hints about beautiful women forever beyond our reaches. Those men whose stories I have uprooted are running from the law, not a tragic love affair. — Glen Cook

Sure, occasionally a certain sappy song or romantic movie would come on, and you'd wonder what he or she was up to, but there was no way to know. Of course, you could always pick up the phone (and more recently, text or e-mail), but that would require that person's knowing you were thinking of him or her. Where's the fun in that? You never want them to know you're thinking of them, so you refrain. Before long the memories start to fade. One day, you realize you can't quite remember how she smelled or the exact color of his eyes. Eventually, without ever knowing it, you just forget that person altogether. You replace old memories with new ones, and life goes on. It was the clean break you needed to move forward. — Brandi Glanville

Bing tightened his fingers around hers...."I know what I want."
She raised an eyebrow. "What is that?"
"Only you." And as he said the words, he felt a tremendous weight lifting from his chest. "It's always been only you..."
"All right." She narrowed her eyes. "But if you break my heart, I'm going to have Peaches have words with you."
"That's threatening a police officer. Technically."
"What are you going to do?" She flashed him a teasing smile. "Arrest me?"
He bent his head to hers, all the way to her ear. "Stick with me and there might just be some handcuffs in your future," he whispered.
She laughed out loud. "I'll take that as an incentive to speedily recover. — Dana Marton

I've never had a problem with a woman who knows what she wants and isn't afraid to ask for it."
Even as her heart stuttered, she narrowed her eyes. "Is that supposed to be a come-on?"
He lifted his hands and donned an innocent expression. "Wouldn't think of it. — Julie Ann Walker

I love the hint of copper in your eyes, radiating out like the sun, turning your pupils into an eclipse.' He ran his thumb down my cheekbone. 'The different striations of color, how every band of green is its own unique shade. A shard of a broken Heineken bottle, a blade of grass, moss on a rusty can.'

'Romantic...' I laughed. — Anastasia Hopcus

Erik got to his feet, aware of her watching him, and tried not to preen at the frank admiration in her eyes. Preening was not manly. — Tiffany Snow

From her vantage point, looking up at [Ian] through the water-spotted and slightly blurry lenses of her glasses, he was quite literally larger than life. Right at that moment, with his hands up on his head, his muscular chest bare, and his boxer shorts clinging to him in a most revealing way, water matting the hair on his chest and his legs and his eyelashes, he was ridiculously attractive. Even with his more conventionally handsome brother standing next to him.
Of course the fact that Aaron was looking down at her with unconcealed dislike in his pretty hazel eyes might've had something to with it, as if she weren't a person but instead a pile of excrement left on his pool deck by a wart-covered troll with an intestinal ailment. — Suzanne Brockmann

Her emotions boiled up like one of the Yellowstone geysers just down the road. First shock and right on its heels came fury. When Hud had left town five years ago, she'd convinced herself she'd never have to lay eyes on that sorry son of a bitch again. And here he was. Damn, just when she thought things couldn't get any worse. — B. J. Daniels

Is it weird that I think it's hot when you boss me around?"
Her gaze snapped up to his, her blue eyes darkening with unmistakable hunger....
"I can take bossing you around to a whole other level if you'd like," she murmured. — Katie Reus

Swallowing, he peered down at Noelle, floored by the sheer calm reflecting back at him. "You okay, babe?"
She rolled her eyes. "Of course. What do you think I am, a pansy-ass damsel who weeps at the first sign of trouble? — Elle Kennedy

Bryce looked like a California underwear model. Not that I'd thought about him in his underwear.
Much.
He was talking with his friend Nathan. Where Bryce had the whole tan, blond, hazel-eyed thing going on, Nathan was fair with dark hair and dark eyes. They looked like opposite sides of the same coin. A really hot, totally unreachable coin that a collector would keep in a special locked case, which normal girls like myself were not allowed to touch. — Chris Cannon

The woman raked her gaze up his body as if checking out livestock. As she reached his face, her kohl-rimmed brown eyes lit with a challenge. "I am the one you know as Hamid Nabil Hassan. The most wanted man in the world. — Brynn Kelly

Honey, I have a feeling he doesn't think of you as a friend. Have you seen the way he looks at you?"
She glanced at him and as if he could feel her gaze, he turned his eyes on her. Soft and hard all at once. "Yeah," Mel said. "He promised to stop doing that. — Robyn Carr

I feared that if I let him, it would be the final push over a ledge I had been precariously hovering on since the day I had first laid eyes on him. — Nicole R. Locker

I knew that people said love should be unconditional, given like a dog gives to its master, but what Being could give that way? What could love though it had been kicked and beaten? What could go kissing the hand of its tormentor with upturned eyes? I didn't know. Perhaps Jesus, perhaps the Dalai Lama, but I couldn't. I had a condition, the way life has conditions to live, the body must have certain conditions to grow, and Cristien had to meet mine or I could not live. I could not. — Candice Raquel Lee

I know you can take care of yourself," he said, with absolute certainty. His vivid eyes probed hers. With the same underlying resolve, he lifted a hand and brushed her cheek with his fingertips. "I just don't think ... you shouldn't have to. — Angela N. Blount

Meg and Belch only had eyes for each other. Not in the usual romantic sense. — Eoin Colfer

What is your name?" he asked softly.
She winced, knowing what was to come, "Calpurnia." She closed her eyes again, embarrassed by the extravagant name- a name with which no one but a hopelessly romantic mother with an unhealthy obsession with Shakespeare would have considered saddling a child.
"Calpurnia." He tested the name on his tongue. "As in, Caesar's wife?"
The blush flared higher as she nodded.
He smiled. "I must make it a point to better acquaint myself with your parents. That is a bold name, to be sure."
"It's a horrible name."
"Nonsense. Calpurnia was Empress of Rome- strong and beautiful and smarter than the men who surrounded her. She saw the future, stood strong in the face of her husband's assassination. She is a marvelous namesake. — Sarah MacLean

In medicine as well as in romantic poetry, it is the heart that is the center and controlling mechanics of life. If the heart stops, life stops. The loss of sight doesn't not mean death. Yet for ages, the eyes was believed to contain a human being's vital essence - a not wholly irrational belief. — Henry Grunwald

When he caught his breath, he regarded her with glowing, half-closed eyes. If I'm very, very good, shei'tani, will you do that again when we're alone? — C.L. Wilson

She angled her head to look up at him. Her blue eyes were huge in the moonlight. One tear still clung to her lash, looking like a shining jewel. He touched it with his fingertip and it dissolved, warm and wet into his skin. His gaze shifter to her bowshaped mouth. Her lips trembled, then parted. A soft mew of a sound escaped them.
There was nothing to do but kiss her. — B. J. Daniels

She tied him a fly, using a pattern she'd designed, one that had given her untold luck with those silvery fish, those fighting steelhead. She was anxious for his return.
"Does it have a name?" he said, when she gave it to him.
"The Predator." She smiled. A little embarrassed.
His eyes turned dark, and her heart beat faster. His voice dipped low. "It's a fine name."
He regarded her for several heavy, silent beats. She felt an atavistic pull, the hairs on her arms rising toward him, as if in electrical attraction. He leaned closer and her mouth turned dry. And he told her about the wild blueberries. Down by the bend in the river.
She took the lure.
She went in search of the berries.
She never came home. — Loreth Anne White

Cabal regarded her with mild amusement. "Smile when you whisper," he advised her. "You're supposed to be flirting with me, if you recall?"
She stared at him icily. Then suddenly her expression thawed and she smiled winsomely, her eyes dewy with romantic love. "Oh, sweetheart ... somebody tried to kill you? Whosoever would do such a thing to my nimpty-bimpty snookums?"
Cabal could not have been more horrified if she'd pulled off her face to reveal a gaping chasm of eternal night from which glistening tentacles coiled and groped. That had already happened to him once in his life, and he wasn't keen to repeat the experience.
"What?" he managed in a dry whisper.
"Smile when you whisper," she said, her expression fixed and blood-curdlingly coquettish. You're supposed to be flirting with me, remember?"
"Please don't do that. — Jonathan L. Howard

Jordan loomed over her and a flash of light blinded her momentarily. The knife. Shane felt her newfound courage faltering, felt herself falling back through the years, into the body of that little girl.
No.
She closed her eyes, pictured Matt's face, Gram's face, and felt her strength returning. She would not let Jordan terrify her again. She might fail tonight, she might die, but she would not be his whimpering victim.
Opening her eyes, she braved the flashing glare of the hunting knife he held above her face. She willed her body to lie still as she stared straight into his eyes. With a thrill of triumph, she saw the surprise in the gray eyes that stared back at her.
Neither of them spoke a word, but they both knew the final moves in the game were at hand, and that Shane had just altered the rules. She could see the dawn of awareness in his eyes: She was no longer a mere pawn to toy with as he pleased.
On the other hand, he still had the knife. — Jane Taylor Starwood

Shiloh had never seen a man who was a hunter. But she saw one now. There was an intense feeling around Roan, raw and untamed, as he studied her, his nostrils flaring to catch her scent. He ruthlessly dug into her opening eyes, reading her, trying to understand where she was at within herself and what she wanted from him.
"This is your call," he said, his voice low and guttural. — Lindsay McKenna

Wow." She reached for a black pillow decorated with a big sparkly skull and hugged it. "So romantic."
I made a face, because who the hell wanted to be a romantic? Then I couldn't look past the skull pillow. "Tell me something, sis. Why do we have to make skulls cute? Some things shouldn't be messed with. Guns, for example. Toilets ... toilet paper ... guns ... They should just stay functional. Sparkle-free."
She rolled her eyes. "Please. If I had a bedazzled toilet, I'd love it and so would you. Don't even try to deny it. You'd love a fancy can."
I did deny it, which led to a healthy debate. — Veronica Rossi

After all these years, he couldn't believe he'd recognized her so instantly. He prayed that she wouldn't recognize him, but as her eyes widened, he knew she had.
"Marcos?" she breathed.
And his worst nightmare came true. His cover was blown. — Elizabeth Heiter

There are no fates I cannot change, but this fate is one I cannot change without you. You are my strength, Rain. You are the courage I've always lacked."
He gave a choked laugh, and tears glittered in his eyes. "If I am your courage, then why does this idea of yours leave me so frightened? — C.L. Wilson

Looking at that pain in her eyes, he felt a closeness with her that he had never experienced before. Like they shared something powerful and unspoken, something so deep and devastating, it bonded them together. He knew then, that if she didn't forgive him, he would never survive.

He was nothing without her. — Jacqueline Simon Gunn

My eyes meet his and I understand exactly what he's saying. He's my person. He's my home. — Jennifer Walkup

You have the most incredible eyes. I feel as if I can look into your soul."
Sid shivered. "Don't look too closely. — B. J. Daniels

Would he love the house as much if his cat burglar didn't come back for the painting? He pushed that thought away, telling himself he was in the market for a house long before he'd laid eyes on the dark-clad figure running along the rooftop. Long before the kiss. — B. J. Daniels

Calmly, deliberately, he moved his hands down to her breasts and molded his fingers over them. Jay inhaled sharply, and he said, "Easy, easy," as he stroked the soft mounds.
"Steve, no." But her eyes were closing as warm pleasure built in her, her blood beating slowly and powerfully through her veins. His thumbs rubbed over her nipples and she quivered, her breasts beginning to tighten.
"You're so soft." His voice roughened even more. "God, how I've wanted to touch you. Come here, sweetheart. — Linda Howard

That autumn, I kept coming back to Hopper's images, drawn to them as if they were blueprints and I was a prisoner; as if they contained some vital clue about my state. Though I went with my eyes over dozens of rooms, I always returned to the same place: to the New York diner of Nighthawks, a painting that Joyce Carol Oates once described as "our most poignant, ceaselessly replicated romantic image of American loneliness" ...
Green shadows were falling in spikes and diamonds on the sidewalk. There is no colour in existence that so powerfully communicates urban alienation, the atomisation of human beings inside the edifices they create, as this noxious pallid green, which only came into being with the advent of electricity, and which is inextricably associated with the nocturnal city, the city of glass towers, of empty illuminated offices and neon signs. — Olivia Laing

I guess the answer would be yes."
"Got to love that word." He kissed her so sweetly then, it brought tears to her eyes. "Got it in you to say it again?"
And then he did the unthinkable. He went down on one knee. — Cindy Gerard

I'd rather put on a lifejacket lined with razor blades and jump into a pool of rubbing alcohol," she said.
"But--"
"I'd rather jab sharpened pencils into my eyes."
"But --"
"Id' rather eat three-day-old road kill."
"I get it," Mason grumbled.. "You're not trading places."
Bran grinned. "What was your first clue? — Julie Ann Walker

It was at that point Ginny felt a presence and turning to look into his eyes she knew destiny was waiting, just around the corner, over the hill. His dark limpid pools, full of hope and wonder, gazed longingly at her and slowly, as his stare captured her heart, a hush descended. All that surrounded them slipped away into darkness until she could see only him. What happened next was a blur. — Virginia Alison

The first time I ever saw your face, I thought the sun rose in your eyes and the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave to the dark and empty sky, my love. — Ewan MacColl

Wasn't really, to tell you the truth. No shock at all." Then he went on: "I always told her she should go, told her she should go and find love, you know, true love. She deserves it, don't you think? That's where she's gone now. Off to find true love. Perhaps she'll find it too. Out there, on the South China Sea, who knows? Perhaps she'll meet a traveller, in a port, in a hotel, who knows? She's become a romantic, you see? I had to let her go." There were now tears welling in his eyes. — Kazuo Ishiguro

Fully revealed, the green eyes pierced her heart. In them, she sensed pain, loneliness and despair. Yet they weren't seeing her. Focused on the movement of the blade, the mesmerizing gaze seemed a world away. Stroke after stroke, the unmasked face appeared in the mirror. — Chris Lange

He stood frozen, staring at me as if he didn't know how to do anything else. I couldn't focus; it was like all the world's blue had originated from his eyes. It was all there, the color of midnight, the sky, the ocean, and blue raspberry lollipops. Why had I spent so much time pretending they weren't remarkable? — Rose Fall

The evening pulsed with omens gentle to the eyes, and Valentina had a romantic crush on it all, like every good witch should. — Lawren Leo

Phoebe stared into his blue eyes. "What would you do if you ran away from a wedding in a car that didn't belong to you and discovered a body in the trunk about the time a sheriff's deputy rolled up behind you?" She flung her hand in the air, and assumed a high-pitched, sarcastic tone. "Hi, I'm a rich man's daughter with a dead man in my trunk. Could you help me get him out so I can be on my merry way? — Elle James

A woman is never so happy as when she is being wooed. Then she is mistress of all she surveys, the cynosure of all eyes, until that day of days when she sails down the aisle, a vision in white, lovely as the stefanotis she carries, borne translucent on her father's manly arm to be handed over to her new father-surrogate. If she is clever, and if her husband has the time and the resources, she will insist on being wooed all her life; more likely she will discover that marriage is not romantic, that husbands forget birthdays and aniversaries and seldom pay compliments, are often perfunctory. — Germaine Greer

When I'm feeling this way, there're only two activities that calm me down." He shrugged. "Fighting's one of them."
"What's the other?" she asked, then cursed herself for opening her stupid mouth.
Because his green eyes were gleaming now, smoldering with sin. "What do you think, luv?"
Several seconds ticked by as their gazes held.
"It's fucking," he drawled. "Pure, hard-core fucking. — Elle Kennedy

Georgie?" He reached out with both hands to steady her - and himself. His mind had trouble focusing. He couldn't believe Georgie was actually standing in front of him. She looked liked an angel - in knee-high biker boots. Those boots looked even better in real life than in his imagination. He gazed into her eyes and was filled with so many emotions, so many things he wanted to say to her, he didn't know where to start. "I like your shoes," he said. — Jennifer Shirk

Just dinner?"
If there was a God in heaven, no was the answer to that.
"Whatever else is up to you and that little voice inside you telling you to jump my bones like a trampoline, darlin'."
This time she did roll her eyes. "How charming."
"Trust me, my charm isn't what the ladies love most about me. — Avery Flynn

I am a very good cook." When she did cook.
"Good. I like to eat." He lightly bit her palm.
The too-much-air feeling in Lucy's stomach pressed upward into her heart. "What?" she asked past the constriction in her chest.
"What do I like to eat?"
"Yeah."
"Blondes with blue eyes."
Oh God. She pulled her hand from his. "Are you hungry?"
His gaze lowered to her mouth. "I could eat. — Rachel Gibson

Listen up, Nic," she said firmly, looking straight into his gray-blue eyes. "If you die on me out here, so help me I'll hold seances and pester you. I won't give you a moment's peace in the hereafter," she threatened in a fierce whisper. Gabrielle O'Hara, River of Dreams — Sharon K. Garner

Daisy Bowman, Lillian's young sister, had an out-sized personality that belied her small, slight frame. Idealistic and possessed of a decidedly whimsical bent, she devoured romantic novels populated with rogues and villains. However, Daisy's elfin facade concealed a shrewd intelligence that most people tended to overlook. She was fair-skinned and dark-haired, with eyes the color of spiced gingerbread... mischievous eyes with long, spiky lashes. — Lisa Kleypas

I never thought of it like that. I always thought of you as a part of me, like my own eyes or my own hands. You don't go around thinking 'I love my eyes, I love my hands', do you? But think what it would be like to live without your eyes or your hands. To be mad, or to be blind. I can't talk about it. It's how I feel. — Elizabeth Marie Pope

What?" he asked.
"I don't know. Just thinking about flowers. And impressing people. I mean, how strange is it that we bring plant sex organs to people we're attracted to? What's up with that? It's a weird sign of affection."
His dark eyes lit up, like he'd just discovered something surprising and delightful. "Is it any weirder than giving chocolate, which is supposed to be an aphrodisiac? Or what about wine? A 'romantic' drink that really just succeeds in lowering the other person's inhibitions."
"Hmmm, It's like people are trying to be both subtle and blatant at the same time. Like, they won't actually go up and say, 'Hey, I like you, lets get together.' Instead, they're like, 'Here, have some plant genitalia and aphrodisiacs. — Richelle Mead

Gareth's eyes slipped open. "You make me nervous when you do that."
"Do what?"
"Brood. Your brooding is rather loud."
"Oh please. I was hardly - "
His eyebrow rose.
"Fine. I was brooding. It's not like you don't."
"Mine is inherent to my romantic nature. Cloaks and castles."
Adele threw up her hands. "That's it. You are forbidden to look at any more cheap books about yourself. — Clay Griffith

I roll my eyes. "Oh, the woe of being adored."
Beta Sinta grins. "It's a hard life. — Amanda Bouchet

He turned and pulled her in, placed his hands on the sides of her face and gazed into her eyes, his head moving closer and closer
she still couldn't say anything, couldn't think of anything other than his mouth landing on hers. — Jane Green

Dust everywhere ... and out of that emerged this beautiful boy with the bluest eyes I'd ever seen, holding his hand out to help me to my feet. — Marie Lu

Lord Hawksheart said we should stay together," she reminded him. ' Do not leave your mate's side,' he said. 'You hold each other to the Light,' he said. And he said we could only defeat the Darkness together."
"He said many things. Most of which I don't trust."
The safest place for me is at your side. Whatever happens, we face it together."
His eyes closed and he nodded. "Doreh Shabeila de." So shall it be. — C.L. Wilson

Aidan: "From the moment I laid eyes on her she was trouble to my concentration, my libido, and my mental health. After six weeks of pursuit, I'd trapped her between my upraised arms against a book case, somewhere betwixt Shakespeare and Voltaire. "I want the witchcraft in your lips," I'd whispered. Instead of arguing, she grabbed me by the ears. She'd been soft lips, liberal tongue and nipping teeth. I'd contributed a willing body and a vulgar groan. She'd drawn away, licked her lips and ducked underneath my arms. When she was about three yards from me, she's tilted her head up like a siren on the bow of a ship and pursed a devil-may-care smile at me before she bowed. She'd challenged me to pursue her, and I'd intended to, but when I pushed off, the bookcase fell backwards. I tumbled into a heap of literary tombs. I could still hear her laughing when the library's elevator door chimed closed. — Elizabeth Marx

They sat on the outcropping of stone and at bread and fruit. Kasta watched the long grass moving around them. The wind pushed it, attacked it, struck it in one place than another. It rose and fell again. It flowed, like water.
"Is this what the sea is like?" Kasta asked, and they both turned to her, surprised. "Does the sea move the way this grass moves?"
"It's like the sea," she said.
Giddon's eyes on her were incredulous.
"What? Is it such a strange thing to say?"
"It's a strange thing for you to say." He shook his head. He gathered their bread and fruit, then rose. "The Lienid fighter is filling your mind with romantic notions. — Kristin Cashore

It's too soon, too fast. We don't even know each other."
"Says who?" Ethan demanded. "Who decides how long it should take? Who makes the rules?"
Erica shrugged because she really didn't know it just seemed like common sense.
He put his index finger under her chin and swept his thumb just under her lower lip. "I do know you." He whispered. "I know you love chocolate and hate roses. I know you are kind and compassionate and generous. I know you feed the homeless and the stray cat that lives behind your apartment. I know you are a hopeless romantic. You are fiercely loyal." His eyes took on a mischievous glint. "I know you are ticklish; I know what makes you moan; I know what makes you squirm." He kissed her softly. "I know when I am with you I don't want to be anywhere else." He kissed her again and this time she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. Their tongues tangled in a duel that left her breathless. — Melissa Hale

Sorry," he said. "Let me drop the belt-"
"No." She held on when he would have pulled away. "Don't. I like it."
Again, he lifted her face, and he smiled. "The tool belt turns you on."
"No." She closed her eyes and thunked her forehead to his chest. "Little bit. — Jill Shalvis

I want you to let go. Just close your eyes and feel me. Don't think. Don't try to control it. All you have to do ... is feel. — Sara Humphreys

Stubble or what?"
Eyes still closed he chuckled. "I'm not shaving until our parents let us date again."
He kissed my cheek.
"What if it takes ... a ... while?"
I asked struggling to talk. He'd made his way down to my neck. His tongue circled there slowly.
"There are only six or seven weeks until August football practice starts right?"
"Hm." His mouth moved up my neck toward my ear. Oh.
"Will you be able to stuff your beard into your helmet?" I croaked.
In answer he put his lips on my ear.
I forgot the next joke I'd planned to make and lost myself in Adam. — Jennifer Echols

My mom believed that you make your own luck. Over the stove she had hung these old, maroon painted letters that spell out, "MANIFEST." The idea being if you thought and dreamed about the way you wanted your life to be
if you just envisioned it long enough, it would come into being.
But as hard as I had manifested Astrid Heyman with her hand in mine, her blue eyes gazing into mine, her lips whispering something wild and funny and outrageous in my ear, she had remained totally unaware of my existence. Truly, to even dream of dreaming about Astrid, for a guy like me, in my relatively low position on the social ladder of Cheyenne Mountain High, was idiotic. And with her a senior and me a junior? Forget it.
Astrid was just lit up with beauty: shining blonde ringlets, June sky blue eyes, slightly furrowed brow, always biting back a smile, champion diver on the swim team. Olympic level.
Hell, Astrid was Olympic level in every possible way. — Emmy Laybourne

After all these years, he stood humbled and she stood corrected. Tara's eyes were downcast as she looked at the distance between them. If he had taken a step towards her, she was sure she could take a million too. — Mita Jain

Dear God, you are beautiful. I tried to forget, to pretend I did not need you, but it was no use. You haunt my waking hours and my dreams, and though I know if I stay with you my soul my soul will be lost and my life damned, I cannot stay away, nor can I put you from me. So come and let me drown in your bewitching angel's eyes. Some things bought dearly are worth the price. — Jennifer Blake

She looked into Matt's eyes. 'Even so, I love you.'
Matt smiled at her and winked. 'I know.'
Celeste and Julie both smacked him.
'This would be an appropriate time not to be a dork or a smartass,' Julie said.
Celeste popped her head into the front seat. 'Be the hero, Matty. Come on. You're supposed to be the hero now. The romantic lead.'
'I know that, too,' he said. Matt did not hesitate a moment longer. 'Julie, I love you. I absolutely love you.'
'Good,' Celeste said, satisfied. 'Now it's time to jump. — Jessica Park

My husband is so useless that it's hard for me to be romantic with him. I get down on the floor and say, If you love me, blink your eyes. — Phyllis Diller

Oh, isn't that sweet," came Jackal's loud, mocking voice ... "Let's make goo-goo eyes at each other in the middle of a stinking corpse field, how very romantic. — Julie Kagawa

Upon the publication of Goethe's epic drama, the Faustian legend had reached an almost unapproachable zenith. Although many failed to appreciate, or indeed, to understand this magnum opus in its entirety, from this point onward his drama was the rule by which all other Faust adaptations were measured. Goethe had eclipsed the earlier legends and became the undisputed authority on the subject of Faust in the eyes of the new Romantic generation. To deviate from his path would be nothing short of blasphemy. — E.A. Bucchianeri

Jay stepped into the room, and for a split second both her heart and lungs seemed to stop functioning. Then her heart lurched into rhythm again, and she drew a deep, painful breath. Tears sprang to her eyes as she stared at the inert form on the white hospital bed, and his name trembled soundlessly on her lips. It didn't seem possible that this ... this could be Steve. — Linda Howard

One sees clearly only with the heart, anything that is essential is invisible to the eye.- The Little Prince — Antoine De Saint-Exupery

I put fear into the eyes of a member of the Mafia. I'm doing well, she thought, now keep him scared. — Wendy Ely

Hands.
Cheeks.
Eyes.
Lips.
Neck.
Ears.
Thighs.
Heart.
Soul.

Ahh!
the things I get to
savor you with. — Sanober Khan