This Has To Be The Most Self-centered

There,” She Said Triumphantly. “like That.” He Began To Wonder If They Were Speaking The Same Language. “like What?” “that! What You Just Said.” He Crossed His Arms. It Seemed The Only Acceptable Reply. If She Couldn’t Speak In Complete Sentences, He Saw No Reason Why He Had To Speak At All.

Anthony Looked Down At His Evil Clutches -- Hands, He Reminded Himself, Hands -- And Grinned Anew.

There Were A Lot Of Things In Life To Be Afraid Of, But Strangeness Ought Not Be Among Them.

He Gave Her A Sly, Sideways Look. "did You Bring It?" "my List? Heavens, No. What Can You Be Thinking?" His Smile Widened. "i Brought Mine." Daphne Gasped. "you Didn't!" "i Did. Just To Torture Mother. I'm Going Peruse It Right In Front Of Her, Pull Out My Quizzing Glass—" "you Don't Have A Quizzing Glass." He Grinned—the Slow, Devastatingly Wicked Smile That All Bridgerton Males Seemed To Possess. "i Bought One Just For This Occasion." "anthony, You Absolutely Cannot. She Will Kill You. And Then, Somehow, She'll Find A Way To Blame Me." "i'm Counting On It.

You Don't Always Have To Kiss A Lot Of Frogs To Recognize A Prince When You Find One -henrietta Barett