Pity Goes Hand In Hand With Contempt.

To Cam Surprise, She Was Smiling Up At Him Steadily, Her Eyes Midnight. His Expression Turned Quizzical. "what's So Amus­ing?" Amelia Toyed With A Button On His Coat. "i Was Just Thinking . . . Tonight Those Two Old Hens Will Probably Go To Their Beds, Cold And Alone." An Impish Grin Curved Her Lips. "whereas I Will Be With A Wicked, Handsome Rom Who Will Keep Me Warm All Night.

Pretend You're Mine," He Urged, His Arms Closing Around Her. "just For A Minute. Pretend There's Never Been Anyone But Me, That I'm The One You're Promised To. Do It For Me....i'll Never Ask Again.

And Poppy, Remember That Someday You Will Meet A Frog Who Will Turn Into A Handsome Prince." "good," Beatrix Said. "because All She's Met So Far Are Princes Who Turn Into Frogs." "mr. Bayning Is Not A Frog," Poppy Protested. "you're Right," Beatrix Said. "that Was Very Unfair To Frogs, Who Are Lovely Creatures.

You Don’t Annoy Me.” Carefully He Rebuttoned The Placket Of Her Shirt. “i Thought You Did, At First. But Now I Realize It Was More Like The Feeling You Get When Your Foot’s Been Asleep. And When You Start Moving, The Blood Coming Back Into It Is Uncomfortable . . . But Also Good. Do You Understand What I Mean?” “yes. I Make Your Feet Tingle.” A Smile Came To His Lips. “among Other Things.

Most Men Don't Seem To Get That Telling A Pissed-off Woman To Calm Down Is Like Throwing Gunpowder On A Fire.” ~ Liberty Jones