She's Too Good For Him Quotes & Sayings

Grandma smiled brightly. "How lovely! It seems your whore has arrived."
Jake groaned and covered his face with his hands. There was no way out of it. His grandmother was going to get him shot.
A&E women scorned, here I come.
"Excuse me?" Aileen put her hands on her hips and did a weird head nod at Grandma, and nearly teetered off her high heels. Oh, this wasn't good. Not good at all.
Grandma reached out and patted Aileen's arm. "Sweetheart, I'm the one with hearing aids, not you. I called you a whore. Would you like me to spell it for you, too?" She nudged Jake. "What did you do? Find her at a high school career fair?" And then in a horrifyingly loud voice she began spelling. "W-H-O-R-E. — Rachel Van Dyken

It was too good to be true, too sweet to be reality for too long, so when someone set out to destroy his belief in her, it made more sense to doubt her than to believe that she had truly loved him in the first place. — Amy Harmon

Holy cow," Chloe said faintly.
"No kidding," Gwen breathed.
The sexy Fae prince flashed them a smile that was pure devilish charm, sexy and playful and mischievous, briefly catching the tip of his tongue between white teeth, before his lip curved, dark eyes sparkling gold.
Gabby groaned. She choked on it hastily, camouflaging it with a dry little cough. Her own private stash of eye candy had just been made available for public consumption and she didn't like it one bit.
Apparently she wasn't the only one.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Dageus?" Drustan said irritably.
"Och, aye," Dageus said darkly. "You liked him better invisible too?"
"Och, aye."
"Should I curse him again?"
"Och, aye."
Adam threw back his head and laughed, eyes sparkling with gold fire. "Bloody hell, it's good to be back," he purred. — Karen Marie Moning

He urged his horse forward, his body straining, ready to be on his way. But at the last second he looked back at her and swerved, drawing the beast up beside her. From underneath the brim of his hat, he peered down at her. The intensity in the blue depths dragged her in until she felt as if she were drowning. "You've done good so far, Priscilla." At the unexpected words of praise, she sucked in a breath. His gaze dropped to her lips, lingered there for an instant before returning to her eyes, darker, bluer. Her lungs stopped working, and she clutched a hand to her chest. "I'll see your pretty face in a couple days." She nodded, too breathless to respond. He kicked his heels into his horse and left her standing, watching after him, wondering if he was taking her heart with him. — Jody Hedlund

I love you," he said.
"I love you too, for all the good it does." She sounded bitter. Angry. Not at him, but at the universe. — Michael Grant

Nicole's door opened, and she stomped down the hall. "I have something to say," she said, giving him the Slitty Eyes of Death. "You're totally unfair, and if I run away, you shouldn't be surprised." "Don't make me put a computer chip in your ear," Liam answered. "It's not funny! I hate you." "Well, I love you, even if you did ruin my life by turning into a teenager," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Did you study for your test?" "Yes." "Good." He looked at his daughter - so much like Emma, way too pretty. Why weren't there convent schools anymore? Or chastity belts? "Want some supper? I saved your plate." She rolled her eyes with all the melodrama a teenager could muster. "Fine. I may as well become a fat pig since I can't ever go on a date." "That's my girl," he said and, grinning, got up to heat up her dinner. — Kristan Higgins

Shahara-"
"Zzzt," she said, holding her hand up. "Wasting time here. I won't even hear it. You go. I go. It's my sister's life on the line and I out-shoot and am pretty sure I outfight you, too." "I think we came up pretty even on that score." "But I am the better shot." He gave her a grudging glare. "I concede. However, I think I can take you when I'm sober." She took the bottle out of his hand. "Good. I'm going to throw this out." "Uh!" He reached for it. Shahara danced away from him and had the bottle upside down in the sink before he could catch her. He tried to get it out of her hands, but it was too late. "You are an evil, mean woman."

-Syn & Shahara — Sherrilyn Kenyon

I shall expect your reply within a month. Surely that is time enough to ... weigh your other offers.'
She stared at him. Well. She'd underestimated Lord Prescott. Or perhaps, more accurately, she hadn't fully estimated him ...
'Thank you, Lord Prescott. It's helpful to know that your desire for me will expire by a particular date.'
'Much like the desirability of any woman. You of all people should be fully aware that a woman's bloom doesn't last forever. Nor does her ability to bear children.'
...
'Thank you for reminding me. It slipped my mind, temporarily.'
He nodded, smiling a little, acknowledging her little barb. 'Good day, Miss de Ballesteros. I am not a man without feeling, and I think I shall depart now, to recover from the decidedly ambivalent receipt of my proposal.'
She smiled a little at that.
'Good day, Lord Prescott. Perhaps I should retire, too, to preserve my bloom. — Julie Anne Long

The situation. First time in the country and she had found St. Jarlath's Crescent with no difficulty. "You must be Noel. I hope I'm not too early for the household." "No, we were all up. We're about to go to work, you see, and you are very welcome, by the way." "Thank you. Well, shall I come in and say hello and good-bye to them?" Noel realized that he might have left her forever on the doorstep, but then he was only half awake. It took him until about eleven a.m., when he had his first vodka and Coke, to be fully in control of the day. Noel was absolutely certain that nobody at Hall's knew of his morning injection of alcohol and — Maeve Binchy

He's terrified. Terrified of seeing you in his enemies' hands. And they know it, too - they know all they have to do to own him would be to get ahold of you." "You think I don't know that? But does he honestly expect me to spend the rest of my life in that manor, overseeing servants and wearing pretty clothes?" Lucien watched the ever-young forest. "Isn't that what all human women wish for? A handsome faerie lord to wed and shower them with riches for the rest of their lives?" I gripped the reins of my horse hard enough that she tossed her head. "Good to know you're still a prick, Lucien. — Sarah J. Maas

She could only marvel at him. She had never possessed the key to his mind, and what circumstance it was that made him now so calmly confident was beyond her power to fathom. She did not believe him to be desperately in love with her; she could only suppose that having once made up his mind that she was the wife that would best suit him he had either grown too accustomed to the idea to be able easily to relinquish it, or that the good opinion he had of himself made it impossible for him to believe that she could in all seriousness reject his offer. — Georgette Heyer

You realize that if you allow me to court you, all your opposition to marriage is going to have to be reconsidered." She smiled, feigning innocence. "What opposition to marriage?" "Excellent." "But I am thinking we should have a long courtship." "Why?" He looked surprised. "Because I find I've developed a taste for adventure." "That sounds dangerous. Not at all in character for a delicate flower." She laughed. "We know I've never been good at being a delicate flower. Besides, it shan't be too dangerous." "How can you be so sure?" She smiled brilliantly at him, taking his breath away. "Because, on my next adventure, I'll have you by my side." He — Sarah MacLean

I don't want any money."
I put the wallet away.
She said: "What are you going to do about last night?"
"What should I do?"
"Kill that son of a bitch."
"And fry?"
"You're too smart to fry."
"Maybe," I said. "But, lady, I've been drawing the line at murder lately."
She lay against the pillow, watching me. Her skin was dead white and it made the black eyes look big. She wasn't young, but she was still good-looking. Her shoulders were round and firm. As far as I could tell she was naked under the sheet. I sat down on a rocking-chair. It creaked under my weight.
"But you want to get him, don't you?" she asked.
"I wouldn't mind."
"Neither would I," she said.
"He's pretty tough for a gal to tackle."
"He knocked out my teeth."
The way she said it, it sounded like a good reason for bumping off a man. Maybe it was, at that. A girl likes to hold on to her teeth. — Jonathan Latimer

Bah! Doesn't matter. Don't want him for our Ayah. She should marry within her kind, a good Chinese boy - "
Mari had to smile. Mr. Hsu rarely took to foreigners, and this was yet another proof of how easy it was for Ayah to worm her way into people's hearts. She was just so ... sweet. Even when she was also so freaking stubborn, she was just too sweet about it.
"You do remember she's American, right?" Mari teased.
"No," Mr. Hsu snapped, "I don't." He ended the call. — Marian Tee

It was too familiar to Cody. He placed his arms around his wife trying somehow to shelter her from the reality she was facing. There was another reason for his closeness; his desperation to show her he was not one of them, that the tribes of cruel men did not recognize him as one of their own, and to show his wife that his promise to create a safe place for her was a promise she need not fear would be broken. In the innermost part of him, from the secret child that lives within all men, was a scared cry, "Please don't think I'm bad too." From the other innermost part of him, the secret animal that prowls in some men was a raging wolf ready to kill. The battle line within the man had been drawn. The boundaries of faith rose up around the rage, warning the soul against righteous anger morphing to blood lust. — Lee Goff

in town. She confronted him and he protested too much for her comfort. Mum had very good intuition, and her suspicions were soon confirmed. — Eileen Rockefeller

No, Charles Tansley would put them both right in a second about books, but it was all so mixed up with, Am I saying the right thing? Am I making a good impression? that, after all, one knew more about him than about Tolstoi, whereas, what Paul said was about the thing, simply, not himself, nothing else. Like all stupid people, he had a kind of modesty too, a consideration for what you were feeling, which, once in a way at least, she found attractive. Now he was thinking, not about himself, or about Tolstoi, but whether she was cold, whether she felt a draught, whether she would like a pear. — Virginia Woolf

Oh, Sam, this is Kate. Kate, meet Sam.' I wave my hand between the two of them, watching as Kate turns all angelic, putting her hand out to Sam, who grins before clasping it.

'Nice to meet you, Kate.' he says smoothly, maintaining his grin and running his free hand through his mousey waves.

'You too.' She arches a brow.

She's a brazen hussy! She's flirting with him. She giggles as Sam compliments her on her wild, red hair, their hands still linked. My phone declares a text. To escape the blatant flirting exchange going on in front of me, I pick it up and open the message with one eye closed.

There better be a GOOD f**king reason for you standing me up. Someone had better be dying. I'm going out of my f**king mind, lady. NO KISS — Jodi Ellen Malpas

It pleased him to imagine God as someone like his mother, someone beleagured by too many responsibilities, too dog-tired to monitor an energetic boy every minute of the day, but who, out of love and fear for his safety, checked in on him whenever she could. Was this so crazy? ... Miles liked the idea of a God who, when He at last had the oppotunity to return His attention to His children, might shake His head with wonder and mutter, "Jesus. Look what they're up to now." A distractible God, perhaps, one who'd be startled to discover so many of His children way up in trees since the last time He looked. A God whose hand would go rushing to His mouth in fear in that instant of recognition that - good God! - that kid's going to hurt himself. A God who could be surprised by unanticipated pride - glory be, that boy is a climber! — Richard Russo

Whatever the cause, I could not meet his sunshine with cloud. If this were my last moment with him, I would not waste it in forced, unnatural distance. I loved him well - too well not to smite out of my path even Jealousy herself, when she would have obstructed a kind farewell. A cordial word from his lips, or a gentle look from his eyes, would do me good, for all the span of life that remained to me; it would be comfort in the last strait of loneliness; I would take it - I would taste the elixir, and pride should not spill the cup. — Charlotte Bronte

She should pull away, even though she had begged for it with her smart mouth. She should punish him for every crime he'd perpetrated. For being too good-looking, too sexy, too everything. But the kiss was like him - just too damn good. Warm and brutal, providing answers to questions she never knew she had. He teased with his tongue along the seam of her mouth, seeking that last nudge of acceptance as if it was his God-given right.
She parted her lips, and like a predator hinged on her threshold, he took. — Kate Meader

You're too untrusting, Susebron wrote. I keep telling you. My priests are good people. She regarded him flatly, catching his eyes. Except for removing my tongue, he admitted. — Brandon Sanderson

Would you like to dance?" She smiled at him. "Look at the gym floor, Gabe. This is a father-daughter dance." "Yeah. Well, so what? Consider this my first dance with my daughter." At that, Nic went all gooey and some of her lingering doubts eased. Gabe Callahan was a good man. She tilted her head at him and asked, "What if she's a he?" "Well, I grew up going to dance halls in Texas, and believe me, it's never too early for a guy to learn to two-step." Gabe — Emily March

Who's your friend?"
I practically leaped into the air and spun around to see that Kate had walked up behind me. I slapped the back of my hand against Marcus's chest, hard enough to force him back a step. "This is Marcus. Ignore him. He's a bad seed."
As she checked him out, that growing smile of hers told me she was up to no good. She held out a hand for him to take. "Hi. I'm Kate. I'm a bad seed, too. — Courtney Allison Moulton

Margaret opened the door and went in with the straight, fearless, dignified presence habitual to her. She felt no awkwardness; she had too much of society for that. Here was a person come on business to her father; and, as she was one who had shown himself obliging, she was disposed to treat him with full measure of civility. Mr. Thornton was a good deal more surprised and discomfited than she. Instead of a quiet, middle-aged clergyman, a young lady came forward with frank dignity,-a young lady of a different type to most of those he was in the habit of seeing. ( ... ) He had heard that Mr. Hale had a daughter, but he had imagined that she was a little girl. — Elizabeth Gaskell

He'd admired it in the window of a shop on the Strand when he'd met her for dinner one evening, never expecting her to surprise him with it a couple of days later. Now he could see that perhaps she'd bought it out of guilt, but at the time, he just felt it showed how much she'd loved him. He'd been too wrapped up in their future to see it as just a present. And today, perhaps appropriately, it had stopped. Still, at least he was making good time - for — Matt Dunn

You have a mouth made for kissing," he murmured, angling her to face him. "Did you know that?"
She shook her head.
"So soft and generous." Leaning in, he tipped her chin with the heel of his hand. "Sweet."
"No man's ever called me sweet."
"Has any other man kissed you?"
Again, she gave a little shake of the head.
"Well, then. That's why." He brushed his lips over hers, just lightly, sending pure sensation frizzing through her veins. He hummed with satisfaction. "You taste of ripe plums."
She couldn't help it. She laughed. "Now that's just absurd."
"Why?"
"Because it's too early in the year for ripe plums."
His husky chuckle shook them both. "You're entirely too logical for your own good. A thorough kissing can mend that."
"I don't want mending."
"Perhaps not. But I think you do want kissing." He nuzzled the curve of her cheek, and his voice dropped to a sensual whisper. "Don't you?"
She did. Oh, she did. — Tessa Dare

You don't look like a Rupert."
Startled,he raised a black brow at her. "Dare I ask what I look like to you?"
"A hungry wolf."
He didn't laugh at the description, but he did abruptly release her. "Wolf, perhaps," he said drily. "Hungry? Not at the moment."
She had enough sense to guess she'd just been insulted. Had she touched a nerve perhaps? Good,because he was certainly touching too many of hers.
Regaining her balance after stumbling back from him,she went to straighten her skirt in an indignant manner,but forgot she wasn't wearing one.How could she appear to be offended while she was wearing britches? She settled for grabbing the hat off the floor and shoving it back down on her head.
The very idea! Not hungry at the moment? As if she didn't know he was implying she wasn't to his taste. — Johanna Lindsey

And," Annabeth continued, "it reminds me how long we've known each other. We were twelve, Percy. Can you believe that?"
"No, he admitted. "So ... you knew you liked me from that moment?"
She smirked. "I hated you at first. You annoyed me. Then I tolerated you for a few years. Then - "
"Okay, fine."
She leaned in and kissed: him a good, proper kiss without anyone watching - no Romans anywhere, no screaming satyr chaperones.
She pulled away. "I missed you, Percy."
Percy wanted to tell her the same thing, but it seemed too small a comment. While he had been on the Roman side, he'd kept himself alive almost solely by thinking of Annabeth. I missed you didn't really cover that. — Rick Riordan

Hey, Megan?"
She peeked one lid open. "Hmm?"
"Can we have ice cream for breakfast?"
Her mouth curved into a grin. She couldn't think of anyone, save maybe Kate, who could draw a smile from her so quickly. But he was just unexpectedly adorable. "Maybe. If you're a good boy." She cringed. Why the hell did she say that? Was she ... flirting with him? Restraining a grimace, she chanced a look at him.
His dark gaze shifted from playful to scorching. "And what would that entail?"
Heat shot through her body, and unfamiliar desire pooled in her belly. Flustered, she kicked off the top cover. "Not asking questions like that, to start. Now go back to sleep. It's too damn early to be awake."
She heaved a deep breath to calm her racing heart .
"if you say so." Even with his eyes closed, a smile continued to play around his lips. — Laura Kaye

How dare you touch my cookies, you bastard!" Jason said in utter disgust before popping the cookie into his mouth and heading back to his house.
"Damn those looked good, too," Brad grumbled.
Haley sighed. "Don't worry I have a second plate on my counter." The words were barely out of her mouth when Jason abruptly changed course and headed towards her house.
"Well, there was," she said, watching Jason walk into her house like he owned it. A minute later he walked out of her house, carrying both plates and the gallon of milk she had in her fridge. He headed back to his house, but not before he glared at Brad. "You cookie thieving bastard," they heard him mutter.
Brad rolled his eyes, chuckling. "And people wonder how I lost weight rooming with him in college. — R.L. Mathewson

Don't waste your time trying to look all bad at me. See, I know you, man," Howard said. "School Bus Sam. Mr. Fireman. You go all heroic, but then you disappear. Don't you? It kind of comes and goes with you. Everyone last night is all, 'Where's Sam? Where's Sam?' And I had to say, 'Well, kids, Sam is off with Astrid the Genius because Sam can't be hanging out with regular people like us. Sam has to go off with his hot blond girlfriend.'"
"She's not my girlfriend," Sam said, and instantly regretted it.
Howard laughed, delighted to have provoked him. "See, Sam, you always got to be in your own little world, too good for everyone, while me and Captain Orc and our boys here, we're always going to be around. You step away, and we step up. — Michael Grant

Aren't you still worried Gran will cut me off, and you'll be saddled with a spoiled wife and not enough money to please her?"
"To hell with your grandmother, too. For that matter, to hell with the money." He tossed the chair aside as if it were so much kindling; it clattered across the floor. "It's you I want."
"Jackson!" she cried as he approached her. "Someone might hear you!"
"Good." Catching her about the waist, he backed her toward the bed. "Then you'll be well and truly compromised, and there will be no more question of our marrying."
While she was still thrilling to the masterful way he'd decided to take charge, he tumbled her onto the bed, following her down to cover her body with his.
As she gaped at him, shocked to see her cautious love behave so delightfully incautious, he murmured, "Or better yet, they can find us here together in the morning and march us right to the church."
Then he took her mouth with his. — Sabrina Jeffries

Erah Graesin had a silky, low voice. It was reputed to be sexy, but then, everything about Terah Graesin was supposed to be sexy. Kylar didn't see it. Oh, she was pretty. She had a wide mouth, full lips, and the kind of figure that was unattainable for the majority of noblewomen who spent their days doing nothing more strenuous than issuing orders to the servants. Maybe it was that she was a little too self-consciously good-looking. She wore lots of makeup - expertly applied and subtle, but lots - and had tweezed her eyebrows down to tiny lines. The truth was, she held herself like he ought to admire her, and it pissed him off. What pissed him off more was that to look her in the eye with his disguise, he had to stare straight at her admittedly perky breasts. Dammit, why were breasts so intriguing? — Brent Weeks

Alex cornered her right before she was going to make an appointment at the nurse's station to see him. "Bree, I'm going to be referring you to Carlo from now on," Alex informed her. "I think in light of recent events it would be a conflict of interest for me to continue to be your doctor." "Is that right?" Bree asked leaning her elbow on the counter and raising an eyebrow. "Yes, I wouldn't feel comfortable about it considering what you did to Carrie." "Aw, that's nice," Bree smiled sarcastically, staring up at his smug self-righteous face. "Nice to know this place has such moral upstanding doctors." "Yes, so I will be referring you to him from now on," Alex said, clenching his jaw. "Great," Bree said, fighting not to roll her eyes. "Have a good afternoon," he said curtly and turned to walk away. Don't do it. Don't do it, Bree. The evil Bree won though. "You too, Dr. Home Wrecker." Alex's step faltered but he didn't turn around. — E. Jamie

You took advantage of Amelia," Merripen said.
"Not that it matters," Cam said in Romany, "but how did you find out?"
Merripen's huge hands flexed as if longing to rip him apart. Lucifer himself could not have had blacker, more burning eyes. "Speak in English," he said harshly. "I don't like the old language."
Frowning in curiosity, Cam readily complied.
"The maids were talking about it," Merripen replied. "I heard them standing outside my door. You dishonored one of my family."
"Yes, I know," Cam said quietly.
"You're not good enough for her."
"I know that, too." Watching him intently, Cam asked, "Do you want her for yourself, chal?"
Merripen looked mortally offended. "She's a sister to me."
"That's good. Because I want her for my wife. — Lisa Kleypas

You really need better spatial awareness." A familiar, deep voice from behind her made her jump out of her skin.
Feeling almost numb, she turned to find Graysen West standing there - and looking way too sexy for his own good. Or for her own good. She'd thought she was completely alone in the elevator.
She blinked once. Yep, he was still there. Well over six feet of raw masculinity, bright blue eyes she could drown in, and a disapproving frown that somehow made him look sexy.
Isa felt almost possessed as she lashed out. A year of built-up anger and hurt came bursting to the surface. Her arm was moving before she'd processed what she was doing but when her fist connected with his nose, she cursed at the pain that jolted through her hand. Punching someone hurt. — Katie Reus

Is this how you will die? Is this what you were meant for? To simply be bled out like a pig?
A spark of rage flickers, an antidote to despair.
Will you not even try to survive? Did the scientists make you too stupid even to consider fighting for your own life?
Emiko closes her eyes and prays to Mizuko Jizo Bodhisattva, and then the bakeneko cheshire spirit for good measure. She takes a breath, and then with all her strength she slams her hand against the knife. The blade slices past her neck, a searing line.
"Arai wa?!" the man shouts.
Emiko shoves hard against him and ducks under his flailing knife. Behind her, she hears a grunt and thud as she bolts for the street. She doesn't look back. She plunges into the street, not caring that she shows herself as a windup, not caring that in running she will burn up and die. She runs, determined only to escape the demon behind her. She will burn, but she will not die passive like some pig led to slaughter. — Paolo Bacigalupi

Susan essentially said no. And she said that with her husband sitting right there in the audience. She said she and her husband believed they were a cherished prize for each other, and they would probably drive any other people mad. But then she said something I thought was wise. She said she had married a guy, and he was just a guy. He wasn't going to make all her problems go away, because he was just a guy. And that freed her to really love him as a guy, not as an ultimate problem solver. And because her husband believed she was just a girl, he was free to really love her too. Neither needed the other to make everything okay. They were simply content to have good company through life's conflicts. I thought that was beautiful. There — Donald Miller

Little John, watching her standing next to her brother, half-glowering in the old Cecil manner and half-comforted by Robin's words, saw for a moment what it had been like for her as Will's litter sister. Some of what she was good at, and some of what she was bad at, as his pupil, came clear to him in that moment; and something else came clear to him too, but he set it aside so quickly that he allowed himself not to recognize it for what it was. — Robin McKinley

Stars, that hand gets cold," Kai murmured. Rolling onto his back, he took the prosthetic hand in between both of his palms, warming it as he would warm icy fingers on a winter's day. Cinder sat up and looked down at him. His eyes were still closed. He could have fallen asleep again, but for his palms rubbing over her metal hand. His shirt was rumpled, his hair tousled against the sheets.
"Kai?"
He grunted in response.
"I love you."
A sleepy smile curved across his mouth. "I love you too."
"Good." Leaning over, she kissed him fast. "Because I'm taking the shower first. — Marissa Meyer

Slowly, slowly pulling up. Or grabbing hold of Debby's arm, vise-like, for an Indian rub and what starts as a joke gets more and more frantic, him rubbing until he draws speckles of blood, his teeth grinding. She could see him getting that same look Runner got when he was around the kids: jacked up and tense. "Dad needs to leave." "Geez, Patty, not even a hi before you toss me out? Come on, let's talk, I got a business proposition for you." "I'm in no position to make a business deal, Runner," she said. "I'm broke." "You're never as broke as you say," he said with a leer, and twisted his baseball cap backward on stringy hair. He'd meant it to sound jokey, but it came out menacing, as if she'd better not be broke if she knew what was good for her. He dumped the girls off him and walked over to her, standing too close as always, beer sweat sticking his longjohn shirt to his chest. "Didn't you just sell the tiller, Patty? Vern Evelee told — Gillian Flynn

He watched her drink the soup. "You're getting bored with me, aren't you?"
She smiled slyly. "No. I have never found you boring, Mirar. In fact, I've always found you a little too interesting for my own good."
He chuckled. So. There it was. The invitation. He had noted the way she sometimes looked at him. Thoughtful. Curious. Admiring. The spark of attraction was still there for her. Was it for him?
He thought back to other times circumstances had brought them to each other's beds and felt an old but familiar interest flare. Yes, he thought. It's still there. — Trudi Canavan

When I see someone not performing, I am frank enough to tell the person that it's not working out. I request him or her to leave or change jobs within the group. But I see many of our senior colleagues, including my brothers, sons and nephews, empathetic towards non-performers. They don't want to face the issue. They tend to become comfortable with such people and they get protection. They tend to choose people who become personally loyal to them rather than to the company. I think it's important to be professional about such matters. Protecting a non-performer is not good for the business and also the person being protected. This is unprofessional too. The non-performer may be in the wrong job and thus not doing what he or she is best at doing. Empathy that results in protection would lead to a negative result for the employee as well. He or she might be better off in another job within the group or elsewhere. — Subhash Chandra

The scene unfolded before him as though he were a ghost.
His mother stood on the raised stump, her body tied to the tall stake behind her. A pile of wood encircled her feet. Only a small crowd had gathered in the courtyard, despite his father's commands that all should attend. Alasdair sobbed at her feet, calling out to her. The young Alasdair climbed on the pile and clutched her flowing gown. She had been dressed in her finest, not stripped down to her chemise like the handmaid who stood tied to a post beside her. His father had always liked a display. Alasdair's hands reached and passed over his mother's large pregnant belly. With that, she sobbed, too. "Oh, Ali, be good for Momma. I'll see you in the pearly white heaven that God has promised us. Be steadfast, son. Trust your heart."
"Light it," his father ordered. — Jean M. Grant

At last, liveried in the costume of the age, reality entered the room in the shape of a servant to tell the duchess that her carriage was waiting. She wrung her hands in mock despair. "How annoying!" she cried. "I must go. I have to call for my husband at the club, to take him to some absurd meeting at Willis's Rooms, where he is going to be in the chair. If I am late he is sure to be furious, and I couldn't have a scene in this bonnet. It is far too fragile. A harsh word would ruin it. No, I must go, dear Agatha. Good-bye, Lord Henry, you are quite delightful and dreadfully demoralizing. I am sure I don't know what to say about your views. You must come and dine with us some night. Tuesday? Are you disengaged Tuesday? — Oscar Wilde

You know what she's made of."
"Yeah, good stock, good breeding, a hard head and a hunger to win." She flashed him a smile as they approached the kitchen door. "I've been told that describes me. I'm half Irish, Brian, I was born stubborn."
"No arguing with that. A person might make the world a calmer place for others by being passive, but you don't get very far in it yourself, do you?"
"Look at that. We have a foundation of agreement. Now tell me you like spaghetti and meatballs."
"It happens to be a favorite of mine."
"That's handy. Mine, too. And I heard a rumor that's what's for dinner." She reached for the doorknob, then caught him off guard by brushing a light kiss over his lips. "And since we'll be joining my parents, it would probably be best if you didn't imagine me naked for the next couple of hours."
She sailed in ahead of him, leaving Brian helplessly and utterly aroused. — Nora Roberts

Tiger chuckled. "Let me guess. Seared meat? Yeah, most humans get grossed out by that. You'll enjoy pizza. It's really good. She'll love it too. I think all humans eat it the way we do meat. It must be a nutritional requirement or something for them." He shrugged. "Everything on it is cut up into bit-sized slices to help them because of the flat teeth they have." Valiant followed him. "If we have a baby this must be good to feed them." "Yeah. They probably just cut the slices smaller for their little mouths." "I must try this food. Tammy will be pleased I am preparing for fatherhood." Tiger patted his back. "You're a good mate, my man." "I will try to be." Valiant missed Tammy. He couldn't wait to return home to marry her and remove her underwear. Not in that order though. — Laurann Dohner

Sooner or later it must come out, even if other men rediscover it. And then ... Governments and powers will struggle to get hither, they will fight against one another and against these moon people. It will only spread warfare and multiply the occasions of war. In a little while, in a very little while if I tell my secret, this planet to it's deepest galleries will be strewn with human dead. Other things are doubtful, but this is certain ... It is not as though man had any use for the moon. What good would the moon be to men? Even of their own planet what have they made but a battleground and theatre of infinite folly? Small as his world is, and short as his time, he has still in his little life down there far more than he can do. No! Science has toiled too long forging weapons for fools to use. It is time she held her hand. Let him find it out for himself again-in a thousand years' time. — H.G.Wells

She feels so good and welcoming, like home. Reluctantly, I relinquish her, and Bob gives me an awkward one-armed hug. He seems unsteady on his feet, and I remember that he's hurt his leg. "Welcome back, Ana. Why you cryin'?" he asks. "Aw, Bob, I'm just pleased to see you, too." I stare up into his handsome square-jawed face and his twinkling blue eyes that gaze at me fondly. I like this husband, Mom. You can keep him. He takes my backpack. "Jeez, Ana, what have you got in here?" That would be the Mac, and they both put their arms around me as we head for the parking lot. I always forget how unbearably hot it is in Savannah. Leaving the cool air-conditioned confines of the arrival terminal, we step into the Georgia heat like we're wearing it. Whoa! It saps everything. I have to struggle out of Mom and Bob's embrace so — E.L. James

See, you do care about him! Sarah, what Nolan Walker needs is a good wife to encourage him, to see that he eats properly, make sure he gets his rest." The picture Prissy had painted of Sarah as devoted wife, caring for Nolan, was a very appealing one. But she couldn't dwell on it, because Prissy wasn't done. "When are you going to get off your lofty perch and let yourself love him?" she went on. "That excuse that he's a Yankee's wearing a little thin by now, don't you think?" Sarah stared at her as they had reached their little cottage and went in. She hung up her coat with a sigh, then took Prissy's coat and hung it up, too. "Dr. Walker and I have become friends. But how can he and I be anything more if he's not a believer? The Bible warns about being unequally yoked, you know." Prissy groaned exasperatedly. "Sarah Matthews, if you gave that man the slightest bit of encouragement, he'd be sitting in the front pew every Sunday morning, and you know it. — Laurie Kingery

The only difference between your average man and a hero is that the hero figures out what to do before it's too late,' He nudged her aside and, with a few pulls, filled her bucket. 'Then he has the nerve to go on and do it.'
Betsy leaned back as if she was trying to get a complete view of him from head to toe. 'Is that all it takes to make a good hero?'
'One more thing. A hero always comes back for his lady. — Regina Jennings

Christ, he was a cipher.
For the first time, he worried if he could be worthy enough for Mariketa. Did he even deserve her? Yes, she was a witch, but she was also stunningly beautiful and brave and clever.
"I like football, too," he finally said.
"You've already told me, so that doesn't count."
"I love the color of your eyes."
She tucked a curl behind her pointed ear, sliding him the bewitching smile that made his heart punch the insides of his chest. "What's your favorite place to visit?"
He absently answered, "Wherever you are."
"Bowen, five things about you can't all be about me."
But you're the only good thing that I've got. "Why no'? — Kresley Cole

Baby don't do this." He whispered the words. Why did he thought if she cried she'd feel better? It was too much, too much sorrow for her. He pulled her beneath him, lying over her, somehow trying with his body to protect her from the ggrief.
She came awake, her eyes wide, black. Swimming with tears. "Nicholas? What is it?" He touched his face, the lines of worry there.
"You're crying, honey. I thought it would be good for you to cry, but not like this, not in your sleep where I can't share it with you."
"I can't be crying." Dahlia wiped at the tears on her face with a kind of horror. "I never cry."
"You are crying."
"I can't stop." She looked desperate. "Make me stop, Nicholas, Make it stop. — Christine Feehan

Her lips thinned, but she ignored the bait. "Schedules have been moved up in all departments, you know. Claire received her new reproduction assignment. It didn't include Tony." "Reproduction assignment? You mean, having a baby?" Leo could feel his face flushing. Somewhere within him, a long-controlled steam pressure began to build. "Do you hide what you're really doing from yourselves with those weasel-words, too? And here I thought the propaganda was just for us peons." Yei started to speak, but Leo overrode her, bursting out, "Good God! Were you born inhuman, or did you grow so by degrees - M.S., M.D., Ph.D. . . ." Yei — Lois McMaster Bujold

Look. I'm your expert consultant for a rather pathetic monetary wage, and under that agreement I have the option of selecting a technical assistant. He's mine."

She blew out a breath, paced to the window. Paced back. "Not just yours. It makes him mine, too. I don't know how to deal with a teenaged type person."

"Ah, well, I'd say you'd deal with him as you deal with everyone else. You order him around, and if he argues or doesn't jump quickly enough you freeze his blood with one of those vicious looks you're so good at and verbally abuse him. It always works so well for you."

"You think so?"

"There, see." He cupped her chin. "There it is now. I can actually feel my blood running cold. — J.D. Robb

She got a sense that their time together was valuable, as though she needed to hold on to every minute as if it were their last. He was too good to be true, every moment spent with him magical, so much so that she presumed this couldn't last forever. None of her good feelings had lasted forever, none of the people who lightened her life managed to stay. Going by her previous luck, from pure fear of not wanting to lose something so special, she was just waiting for the day he would leave. Whoever he was, he was healing her, he was teaching her to smile, teaching her to laugh, and she wondered what she could teach him. — Cecelia Ahern

I love you, Francesca," Gabriel told her solemnly. "I cannot express in words what you are to me."
She smiled up at him. "You do a fairly good job expressing yourself."
His eyebrow shot up. "Fairly good?"
"I think your ego is already far too large. I am not about to call you the greatest lover in the world."
His hand cupped her soft breast, his thumb stroking small caresses over her taut nipple. "But you would if it were not for fear of my ego? — Christine Feehan

Mrs. Palmer, in her way, was equally angry. She was determined to drop his acquaintance immediately, and she was very thankful that she had never been acquainted with him at all. She wished with all her heart Combe Magna was not so near Cleveland; but it did not signify, for it was a great deal too far off to visit; she hated him so much that she was resolved never to mention his name again, and she should tell everybody she saw, how good-for-nothing he was. — Jane Austen

Exhaustion was pressing upon and overpowering her.
"Good-by
because I love you." He did not know; he did not understand. He would never understand. Perhaps Doctor Mandelet would have understood if she had seen him
but it was too late; the shore was far behind her, and her strength was gone.
She looked into the distance, and the old terror flamed up for an instant, then sank again. — Kate Chopin

Do you like that?" he whispered.
"Yes, I ... " She fought to speak between helpless gasps. "I thought ... it was going to hurt."
"Not from this." A smile touched his mouth. "Later, however, you might have cause for complaint." A shimmer of sweat gathered on his face as he felt the pulsing of her body around his exploring finger. "I don't know if I can be gentle," he said raggedly. "I've wanted you for too long."
"I trust you," she whispered.
Matthew shook his head, easing his hand away from her. "You have terrible judgment. You're in bed with the last man in the world you should trust, and you're about to make the biggest mistake of your life."
"Is this your idea of seductive banter?"
"I thought I should give you one last warning. Now you're doomed."
"Oh, good." Daisy moved to help him as he stripped off her drawers and stockings. — Lisa Kleypas

You see, there was this man, and he was a good man; he worked hard and did everything to the best of his ability. All he desired was for the most beautiful woman in the kingdom to be his wife. Now this wasn't all bad because she actually loved him too
very much so
but this vizier, he wanted her as well and not for so noble a cause as love."
"What did he want her for?"
Yashar paused for a moment. "So that people could look at him and say, 'He must be a great man to have such a beautiful wife.'"
"Oh. I thought he wanted her for sex," said Colby, disappointed. — C. Robert Cargill

You're an idiot, half-breed," she taunted, as I kicked snow at her. She dodged easily. "Rowan's too good for you, and he's experienced. Most everyone, fey and mortal boys included, would give their teeth to have him to themselves for a night. Try him. I guarantee you'll like it."
"Not interested," I snapped, glaring at her with narrowed eyes. My butt still stung, making my words sharp. "I'm done playing games with faery princes. They can go to hell, for all I care. I'd rather strip naked for a group of redcaps."
"Ooh, if you do, can I watch? — Julie Kagawa

Her eyes narrowed when no one bothered to introduce themselves. Even her father just gave a curt
nod and kissed Mercy on the cheek before going to his mate. She looked at Bas. "Did you four gang
up on Riley?"
Absolute silence in the kitchen except for her mother 's exasperated breath. "Michael T. Smith, I told
you to leave the boy alone."
The "boy" held her tighter against him, obviously not the least bit worried. "I'm fine, Mrs. Smith.
And I have a sister, too."
Lia turned her gaze on Riley. "Good God, Mercy. You brought another one into the family? — Nalini Singh

But she hadn't expected this: this stupid hope, this punishing one, for who would long to see someone who was already lost? What good would it have done?
None.
Apparently Arin knew this, too. He knew it better than she, or his hope would have been equal to hers, and would have driven him here. — Marie Rutkoski

Zev nodded. He smiled up at Tatijana as she came to his side. "It's good to see you," he greeted her. "Thanks for saving us out there."
She smiled back at him and sank down into the grass, taking his arm to inspect the damage. "It's getting to be a habit. We can't have anyone killing you, Zev. My sister wouldn't be too pleased. She's hoping to get another dance with you sometime."
"She probably doesn't remember my name," Zev said. "But it's kind of you to say so."
Tatijana laughed. "Silly man. Your name is probably the only one she does remember. She's not very social."
Fen gave a small derisive snort. "The lengths you go to, getting yourself hurt just for a little female sympathy. You know, Tatijana, he really is far faster than he lets on and he could have prevented the knife from slicing him open. He was just hoping your sister would show up and kiss it all better."
Zev sent him a warning glare. "I'm still armed to the teeth, you bastard. — Christine Feehan

She wouldn't look up at him, wouldn't take her hands from her eyes; she didn't want him to see her. So he wrapped his arms around her like armor, making a shelter for her to fall apart ... He surreptitiously rested his cheek against the top of her head. That rich hair was too silky and fine and warm, and her narrow pale part seemed ridiculously pale and vulnerable as a fontanelle. Here, it seemed to say, was proof that Thomasina de Ballesteros could be broken. Cracked like an egg. That she was human.
The rage he felt then toward the duke was almost euphoric. Almost holy.
This is how crusades are born, he thought. With this kind of certainty about right and wrong, good and evil, and the need to avenge. — Julie Anne Long

Then he clambered into the boat. Oh, and the beauty of the subjection of his loins, white and dimly luminous as he climbed over the side of the boat, his back rounded and soft -ah this was too much for her, too final a vision. She knew it and it was fatal. The terrible hopelessness of fate, and of beauty, such beauty!
He was not like a man to her, he was an incarnation, a great phase of life. She saw him press the water out of his face, and look at the bandage on his hand. And she knew it was all no good, and she would never go beyond him, he was the final approximation of life to her. — D.H. Lawrence

Preacher spit on the ground and swaggered over to Billy Bob. Come on, he said, just as though nothing had happened, She's a hard one, she is, she don't want nothing but to make trouble between two good friends. For a moment it looked as if Billy Bob was going to join him in a peaceful togetherness; but suddenly, coming to his senses, he drew back and made a gesture. The boys regarded each other a full minute, all the closeness between them turning an ugly color: you can't hate so much unless you love, too. — Truman Capote

When he[Thresh] shouts, I jump, never having heard him speak above a mutter. "What'd you do to that little girl? You kill her?"
Clove is scrambling backwards on all fours, like a frantic insect, too shocked to even call for Cato. "No! No, it wasn't me!"
"You said her name. I heard you. You kill her?" Another thought brings a fresh wave of rage to his features. "You cut her up like you were about to do to this girl here?"
"No! No, I-" Clove sees the stone, about the size of a small loaf of bread in Thresh's hand and loses it. "Cato!" she screeches. "Cato!"
"Clove!" I hear Cato's answer, but he's too far away, I can tell that much, to do her any good. What was he doing? Trying to get Foxface or Peeta? Or had he been lying in wait for Thresh and just badly misjudged his location?
Thresh brings the rock down hard against Clove's temple. It's not bleeding, but I can see the dent in her skull and I know that she's a goner. — Suzanne Collins

Tate practically raised you from what I hear. You love him, don't you?"
Her face closed up. "For all the good it will ever do me, yes," she said softly.
"He won't have the excuse of pure Lakota blood much longer," he advised.
"I'm not holding out for miracles anymore," she vowed. "I'm going to stop wanting what I can never have. From now on, I'll take what I can get from life and be satisfied with it. Tate will have to find his own way."
"That's sour grapes," he observed.
"You bet it is. What do you want me to do to help?"
"It's dangerous," he pointed out, hesitating as he considered her youth. "I don't know ... "
"I'm a card-carrying archeologist," she reminded him. "Haven't you ever watched an Indiana Jones movies? We're all like that," she told him with a wicked grin. "Mild-mannered on the outside and veritable world-tamers inside. I can get a whip and a fedora, too, if you like," she added. — Diana Palmer

Smarmy little prig," Will snarled, leaning father forward, as if he longed to reach through the magical portal and strangle Gabriel. "When I get him alone ... "
"I ought to go in with her instead," Gabriel went on. "I can look out for her a bit more. Instead of simply looking out for myself."
"Hanging's too good for him," agreed Jem, who looked as if he were trying not to laugh.
"Tessa knows Will," protested Charlotte. "She trusts Will."
"I wouldn't go that far," muttered Tessa. — Cassandra Clare

Damn, you're good,' he said and rolled onto his back. The man wasn't much for flowery speech, Alesandra thought with a smile. It didn't matter. She was arrogantly proud of herself because she'd pleased him. Perhaps she should give him a little praise too. She rolled onto her side to face him, put her hand on his chest directly over his pounded heart, and whispered. 'You're good, too. 'Tis the truth, you're the best I've ever had.'
He opened his eyes to look at her. 'I'm the only one you've ever had, remember?' His voice was gruff with affection.
'I remember,' she said.
'No other man is ever going to touch you, Alesandra. You're mine. — Julie Garwood

Thank you," Archer said again. She kept walking, listening for any sign of him moving to attack her back. "I knew you were a good woman," he said. Celaena halted. Turned. There was a hint of triumph in his eyes. He thought he'd won. Manipulated her again. One foot after another, she walked back toward him with predatory calmness. She stopped, close enough to kiss him. He gave her a wary smile. "No, I'm not," she said. Then she moved, too fast for him to stand a chance. Archer's eyes went wide as she slid the dagger home, jamming it up into his heart. He sagged in her arms. She brought her mouth to his ear, holding him upright with one hand and twisting the dagger with the other as she whispered, "But Nehemia was. — Sarah J. Maas

Got a job for you, Seven."
"Yeah?"
"I need you to find someone."
"Who?"
"A woman," I say. "About five and a half feet tall. Brown hair. Brown eyes."
"That describes half the women in New York."
"Yeah, well, the one I'm looking for is twenty-one or so," I say. "She's good-looking, kind of curvy for being so petite... got a red 'S' tattooed on her wrist..."
He stares at me, like he expects more information. "What else?"
I shrug, glancing at the high heels, flipping them over to look at the red soles. "She wears a size thirty-nine shoe."
"That's it?"
"That's it."
"Shouldn't be too hard," he says, blinking a few times as he looks at the ground. "Only a couple million people in the city."
"That's the spirit," I say, slapping him on the back. — J.M. Darhower

And here's the other problem with consequences. Consequences work on the assumption that a child's core belief about herself is positive and therefore she will choose good things for herself. Many adopted children deep down see themselves as flawed humans who were given away because they were bad. A child who believes he's bad will expect more bad things to happen to him, and will often behave in a way that guarantees more bad things will happen. A child who has been hurt by loved ones will expect hurt from everyone else too. — Mary Ostyn

Even now, even as she faced a lifetime with him, she thought of her sisters. She was legions too good for him. — Sarah MacLean

She does know we're coming, right?' I ask.
'Well ... ' He hems and haws a bit. 'Not exactly.'
Laney immediately smacks the back of his head. 'Jake! You mean we're showing up unannounced? That is so rude!'
'What if she isn't there? What are we going to do?' I smack him once, too, for good measure. 'What is *wrong* with you?'
'Can we please stop with the abuse? — Hannah Harrington

It's all a lie. I said to myself. Romance. This notion that some guy is going to swoop and fall madly in love with me and change my life and make everything perfect. It's one big, horrible lie and I bought it. Hook, line, and a ten thousand-pound sinker. Or I guess I should say it's a lie for a girl like me. For Skye, that's another story. The first time Dakota kissed me, down at the hot tub, I remember thinking, this is too good to be true. But if something feels too good to be true, maybe it's not true. Maybe the truth is that Skye deserves him. She'll always be the winner. And I, pathetically, will always be me. — Carolyn Mackler

Avery worries about her, too, so Lissa's in good hands. Avery's pretty amazing."
I gave him a scathing look. "Amazing? Do you like her or something?" I hadn't forgotten Avery's comment about leaving the door unlocked for him.
"Of course I like her. She's a great person."
"No, I mean like. Not like."
"Oh, I see," he said, rolling his eyes. "We're dealing with elementary school definitions of 'like'. — Richelle Mead

Because if you take something you're a thief.' She nursed the silence a moment. Downed the balance of her drink and silently signaled for another. 'Sounds simple, but you'd be amazed how many people don't get it. They steal but they call themselves honest. They cheat on their spouses and lovers but they think they're good people. They lie but they'd never call themselves liars. Well, let me tell you something, Todd ... She pointed toward him with her right hand, with her lit cigarette. He leaned away slightly. She looked into the mirror of his eyes and saw herself going too far. 'You are what you do. That's what I'm trying to tell you. What we do defines us. However we behave, conduct our lives ... that's real. The rest is just a story for publication. — Catherine Ryan Hyde

I love you, Rylann." He cupped her face, peering down into her eyes. "And now I finally have a good answer to the one question everyone always asks me
why I hacked into Twitter. I didn't know it at the time ... but I did it to find you again."
She leaned into him, curling her fingers around his shirt. "That may be the best justification I've ever heard for committing a crime." She looked up at him, her eyes shining. "And I love you, too, you know. — Julie James

I was conceived because it would be good for my House to have an heir and because my parents' genes ticked the right set of boxes. You were probably conceived because your parents loved each other."
"According to our mother," Bern said, "he was conceived because she was too wasted to remember a rubber."
Mad Rogan stopped chewing.
"I was conceived because my mother skipped bail. Her boyfriend at the time threatened to call the cops on her so she had to do something to keep him from doing it," Bern said helpfully.
Awesome. Just the right kind of information to share.
"Aunt Giselea isn't the best mother," I said. "There's one in every family. — Ilona Andrews

We'd never miss Alex's retirement. No matter how you feel about us being here."

Pompous prick. That was the exact reason Reese bounced his fist off Hayes's face all those years ago. He flexed his hand with the temptation to do it now too. Smarmy dickweed.

"Alex is a good man." Merina stroked Reese's arm, bringing his temper down a notch. "I'm sure he can see exactly what you are trying to accomplish by being here. If you'll excuse us." In a stage whisper, she added, "I'm going to sneak out of here for a moment with Reese. You remember how hard it was to keep your hands off him, I'm sure. — Jessica Lemmon

He was not quite sure how to phrase it, so he finally went with,
haltingly, "I don't enjoy being at the center of attention."
Her head tilted to the side, she regarded him for a long moment
before saying, "No. You don't." And then: "You were always a
tree."
"I beg your pardon?"
Her eyes grew sentimental. "When we performed our awful
pantomimes as children. You were always a tree."
"I never had to say anything."
"And you always got to stand at the back."
He felt himself smile, lopsided and true. "I rather liked being a
tree."
"You were a very good tree." She smiled then, too - a radiant,
wondrous thing. "The world needs more trees. — Julia Quinn

That was the funny thing. What happened to John would pass for his classmates, but for John it was a long challenging road ahead of him. Who knew where he would be sent, maybe a juvenile detention center? He might keep in touch with a few friends if his parents let him, but he would never return to Wakefield High. His peers had no clue the journey ahead of him, that his life was changed forever.
And they had no idea what lay ahead for Lilly. No one knew she had been given a task by the Archangels to fight a war against pure evil. They had no idea that Lilly would spend most of her free time not training for a marathon, but training to kill demons. John and Lilly were not all too different. — Ellie Elisabeth

She was of course only too good for him; but as nobody minds having what is too good for them, he was very steadily earnest in the pursuit of the blessing, and it was not possible that encouragement from her should be long wanting. — Jane Austen

An enormous bartender came over. He looked like the pullout centerfold for Leather Biker Monthly. Extra big and extra scary. He had long hair, a long scar, and tattoos of snakes slithering up both arms. He shot the two men a glare and - poof - they were gone. Like the glare had evaporated them. Then he turned his eyes toward Esperanza. She met the glare and gave him one back. Neither backed down. "Lady, what the fuck are you?" he asked. "Is that a new way of asking what I'm drinking?" "No." The mutual glaring continued. He leaned two massive snake-arms on the bar. "You're too good-looking to be a cop," he said. "And you're too good-looking to be hanging out in this toilet. — Harlan Coben

The girl's kind, good ... Totally too good for you."
"So were you." He kissed her cheek, singed it with his lips. "You still are."
"Bastard." She shoved him, ignoring the burning in her palm from touching him.
He put a hand on his shoulder, metling the ice that formed where she'd pushed too hard. It crackled under his touch. "Only because Beira murdered my father. — Melissa Marr

The confusion part was compounded when he found himself looking at her without meaning to, or watching her for longer than was considered polite. She'd caught him doing it a few times too, but had never called him on it. Which was good. She wasn't his type, not even close, and checking her out made him feel creepy considering she was like Tuck's little sister rather — Kaylea Cross

Her body didn't give a damn that he was all wrong for her, it wanted him anyway. Badly. Either oblivious of or not wanting to encourage the attraction between them, Wade looked down at his mug as though he wasn't comfortable holding her gaze at such close range, and took a sip. As he swallowed, one side of his mouth curved up and he let out an appreciative groan that seemed to reverberate right through her, heating her blood. Startled, she drank in the almost dreamy expression on his angular face and imagined that same look right after he'd enjoyed an intensely satisfying orgasm. Erin couldn't be positive, but if his reaction to a simple cup of coffee made him groan like that, she was pretty sure it had been a while since he'd had one of those, too. And man, the idea of being the one to end his dry spell was way too freaking hot for her own good. — Kaylea Cross

In just a week, he'd taught her so much. That good, honorable men like him stayed the same after death. That she'd existed for too long with only hatred and revenge in her heart. Love was a much nobler cause to live for. Love didn't follow its own selfish agenda; it was willing to make sacrifices for others. How strange that it took an undead man to show her how to live. — Kerrelyn Sparks

You know what I used to dream about, in stir?" His voice was hoarse, the words low and fast and faintly guttural. "I used to dream about you. You were the only clean and good and decent thing left in my life, and I would dream about you. I used to dream about taking your clothes off piece by piece, and what you would look like naked, and how it would feel to fuck you really good. I used to dream about that in high school, too. In fact, I got off almost every night for the last fourteen years, dreaming about you." Rachel's lips parted with shock. Speechless, she stared at him wide-eyed for what seemed an eternity while her heart suddenly hammered and her throat went dry.
"I'm fucking tired of dreaming, — Karen Robards

No such thing as too tall," she said. She had automatically reached for a brush and now she began uncoiling the tangles of my hair. "It's good for a woman to be able to look into a man's eyes. Then she's not afraid to tell him what she thinks. — Sharon Shinn

Sade jolted with Mercy's embrace from behind. "Sade!" she cried. "You have it! You have my love, I do love you, look at me." She got in front of him and held his face. "I'm scared of you because I'll die if I lose you. I'm scared I'll never be enough, or what you need. I'm scared you'll send me away," she sobbed, hitting him in the chest. "I can't lose you! I love you! I just want to be good enough for you!" Sade pulled her into his arms at hearing those words. "Mercy," he gasped. "Say it again." "I love you," she cried holding him tight. "I love you so much. I never want to be apart from you." "I'm too fucking broken for you Mercy." She shook her head and cried, "No! Don't say that! I can fix it! We can fix it, and if we can't," she gasped, "we can be broken together, — Lucian Bane

Pedersen was always wooing her. Sometimes he was gracious and kind, but at other times when his failure wearied him he would be cruel and sardonic, with a suggestive tongue whose vice would have scourged her were it not that Marie was impervious, or too deeply inured to mind it. She always grinned at him and fobbed him off with pleasantries, whether he was amorous or acrid.
'God Almighty,' he would groan, 'she is not good for me, this Marie. What can I do for her? She is burning me alive and the Skaggerack could not quench me, not all of it. The devil! What can I do with this? Some day I shall smash her across the eyes, yes, across the eyes.'
So you see the man really loved her.
("The Tiger") — A.E. Coppard

She tried to imagine him as an elder Kai man, with hair turned silvery white instead of its current sloe darkness. He'd still be as handsome and regal as he was now. She chuckled under her breath, amused at the idea that she once thought him hideous.

One yellow eye peered up at her. "What amuses you, wife?" The question fell away to a moan as she rubbed his scalp.

"I was just thinking you are far too handsome for your own good."

"It's the scars," he said. "They give me a certain air. — Grace Draven

Ever since Hugo Waverly had returned to London, he had been keeping on eye on Cedric's sisters, particularly Horatia. Waverly had a way of creating collateral damage and Lucien would do anything to keep these innocent ladies safe. But she mustn't know he was watching over her. He'd spent the last six years being outwardly cold to her, praying she'd stop gazing at him in that sweet, loving way of hers.
It was cruel of him, yes, but if he did not create some distance, he'd have had her on her back beneath him. She was too good a woman for that, and he was far too wicked to be worthy of her. Rather like a demon falling for an angel.

-Lucien's thoughts. His Wicked Seduction (The League of Rogue's book 2) — Lauren Smith

She was the most precious thing in the world to him. So beautiful, so sweet, so giving and too damn good for him, but he was a selfish bastard and wouldn't let her go. — R.L. Mathewson

Hera also slept well that night as she had brilliantly engineered the coup of her life.Her wayward husband had returned late that evening & announced that he was too tired to make love.He had had a most entangling day,he said, performing his kingly duties.She then told him to have a good night's rest as she had an important job for him to perform in the morning.It was a job demanded by Chaos & Eros who were responsible for the beginning of things, she said. — Nicholas Chong