Best 354 quotes of Nalini Singh on MyQuotes

A faint smile that made every tiny hair on her body rise in quivering attention. "How fast can you run?" A wolf's question.

A few minutes?" Feeling suddenly shy, she crossed her arms over her chest. The smile on his face widened, becoming touched with the feral wildness of the cat. It made thinking difficult. "I believed males needed a longer recovery time to mate." "Not this kitty cat." Rising to his feet, he said, "Get ready to play.

After they were both done, the pile of knives and guns on the coffee table looked like they’d cleaned out an armory. “I think we have a problem, Dmitri.

A life is not a waste of time

All right." Shimmering droplets on her eyelashes, stars caught in transition. "But will you replace it with something for me?" "Anything." His body was hers. Brushing her fingers over his lips, she said, "You gave me an eagle. I want to give you one, too." A tender kiss pressed to the scar. "I want us to fly together.

A long-dead angel who thought to own me,” was his enigmatic answer, the silver in his eyes almost liquid. “I tore out his throat. After that, I ate his liver and his heart. The remaining internal organs weren’t as tasty so I gave them to his other creatures.” Elena’s hand tightened on the handle of the knife, conscious Naasir carried gleaming blades of his own in the sheaths strapped to his arms. “I wouldn’t think a vampire who killed an angel would be permitted to live.” A slow, feral smile. “I didn’t say I killed him.

A lot of women have trouble with their mothers-in-law.” Raphael’s look was priceless. “My mother is an insane archangel.

Am I too early?" "No. He's waiting for you." The smile faded, to be replaced by a slightly disappointed expression. "I thought you'd be . . . scarier.

A naked blade sheathed in velvet, that was Raphael's voice.

And he realized... that fragile, mortal life wasn't just important to him. It was more important than his own.

An hour of your life is worth more than a thousand people to me.

Animals obviously ranked higher in Michaela's world view than humans. Having seen some of the things humans were capable of, Elena couldn't disagree.

A queen keeps a court that is spoken about. A goddess keeps a court that is never forgotten.

Are your eyelashes like your hair?” “Yes. They’re very beautiful—want to see?” Her lips twitched. “Vanity is a sin,Bluebell.” “When you have it, flaunt it, I say.” -Elena and Illium

Are you?” “What?” “Venomous?” Another savage smile. He touched the tip of one fang with his tongue and when he drew it away, she saw a pearl of golden liquid. “Try me and see.” “Maybe later, after I’ve survived Michaela.

As an example of wealth, good taste, and subtle intimidation, it took first prize.

As her skin sizzled under the delicious heat, she supposed she should’ve been giving serious thought to the lunacy of what she was doing playing with a vampire, who was, for all his charm, as lethal as a stiletto across the throat. But then again, most of her friends already thought she was half a nut short of a fruitcake. Why disappoint?

A single raised eyebrow. "You've defected, sweetheart. No use worrying about the big, bad wolf now." She was aware of Judd speaking, but her attention never shifted off the man who was a predator, for all that he wore human skin. When he peeled open and held out a bar of some kind, she took it, aware low energy levels could be dangerous when it came to her ability to keep a handle on the cold fire. "Thank you." A faint smile, a strange amusement in those icy eyes. "You're welcome." It was the most polite interaction they'd ever had.

... because he was going to marry her. “It is customary to ask,” she now said as she turned to watch him button up a black shirt over that chest she’d licked and sucked and kissed not long ago. “Why?” He shrugged. “I’m not giving you a choice.

Blood for life. Life for life. Changeling justice.

Bluebell,” she said, remembering from Erotique. “Pretty name.” “I call Dmitri Dark Overlord.” “Shae,” Dmitri said and the female vampire rose at once to walk quickly into the house. “Now, pretty Bluebell” another languid stroke across her skin “tell the Overlord what you discovered.

Bluebell, you couldn’t take me if I was blindfolded and had both hands tied behind my back.” “Bluebell?” Illium narrowed his eyes. “That’s it, Barbarian.

Brenna’s eyes widened. Raising a hand, she brushed his hair gently off his forehead. “Why do I keep telling you things I swore I’d take to my grave?” The contact shot electricity through his nerves. “Because you know I’ll always be your shield against the nightmares.

Brenna was fixing some kind of a small computronic device when he found her in her quarters. “Judd,” she said, putting down her tools. “You can’t be here. The dissonance—” He interrupted her panicked words. “I need to ask you something important.” “What could be more important than your life?” She sounded close to tears. “Your life. If you die, I don’t know if I’d stay sane.” A simple truth.

But sometimes, that depth of need—to save, to protect—can become a blinding fervor, one that destroys the very thing it thinks to safeguard.

But you, you’ve always been the rain, the wind, inside my mind. I taste you when I sleep, when I wake, when I breathe.

Come make me sticky. Dimitri to Honor

Contact would hurt, might be fatal, and yet she couldn’t stop herself. Obsession or compulsion, she didn’t know, but she did know that before this was over, she’d either end up in Dmitri’s bed . . . or one of them would bleed darkest red.

Content in a way he’d rarely been before Mercy, he simply stroked her until she purred. It delighted him as it always did. “I made you purr.” A lazy yawn. “I’m faking it.

Death holds no allure for me, Elena.” The power of him cut against his skin, a cold white fire. “Not when I have yet to sate my hunger for you.

Do tell. It might be entertaining to see who gets to you first.” “Excuse me if entertaining you isn’t at the top of my agenda.

Do you have no sense of self-preservation?

Do you know where Jason is?” she asked Dmitri when they exited the morgue. Dmitri pressed the car remote to unlock the flame red Ferrari parked in the employees-only lot. “Tired of your Bluebell already?” A tendril of champagne circled around her senses, cut with something far harder. Never had she felt that harsh edge in Dmitri’s scent. She pitied the woman he took to his bed today. “Yeah, that’s it. I’m building a harem.

Do you think you have the right to give me orders now?" The Archangel of New York, a creature so lethal that part of her feared him even now, lifted the hair off her nape, brushed his lips across her skin. "Of course. You are mine." No hint of humor, nothing but stark possession. "I don't think you've quite got the hang of this true love thing.

Dropping her hand, she turned in his arms. Then, rising up on tiptoe, she cupped his face in her palms and drew him down. Her kiss was innocent, vulnerable, a caress so gentle that it made him her slave between one breath and the next.

Elena. Hush, let me talk to the crazy lady.

Elena wondered if Michaela was waiting to be served. Snorting inwardly at the idea, she poured her own coffee—and, because she was feeling generous, and okay, maybe because she wanted to irritate Michaela—Raphael’s as well. Then she put down the carafe.

Eternity would mean nothing without you. For no power on this earth would I trade my Elena.

Ever had a woman say no to you, Dmitri?” “Once.” He turned the corner with a smile that made her want to cup his face, trace those beautiful lips with her own. “I married her.

Fathers and mothers,” she found herself saying, “leave their mark, no matter if we’ve known them a lifetime or only a day.

Go on,” he said in a low tone that was a dare. “Keep on poking the hungry wolf, see how naked it gets you.

Have you ever made her angry?" If the cop said that he and his wife lived in a state of constant connubial bliss, Andrew decided he'd have full cause to throw a punch. Max raised an eyebrow. "Sure, I'm human." He slid the phone into the pocket of his suit pants and rose to his feet with a distinctly amused glint in his eyes. "Making up is the un part, in case you haven't figured that out yet.

Hawke's gaze was so innocent, Andrew knew it was pure bullshit

Heart of my heart, that’s who you are, Adria Morgan. Chosen and forever.” Picking her hand off his cheek, he pressed a lingering kiss to the palm before placing it over the strong, steady rhythm of that very organ. “Wolf and man, you own every part of me.

He closed his eyes, dropping his forehead against hers. “You’ll be the death of me, Elena.” She smiled. “You need a little excitement in that boring old life of yours.

He couldn’t say the words, had spent too long in Silence, but he’d learned other ways to speak. Taking the paperweight she’d knocked off her desk out of his pocket, he put it in her hands. “It’s fixed. As long as you don’t mind more than a few scars.

He'd been so angry at her -always pushing his buttons, that girl. But then he'd taken her into his arms, and all that anger had blazed into a darker, hotly possessive need that had urged him to bend his head, bite down on the throbbing pulse in her neck, leave a mark.

He didn't know what else to do, how to comfort her, so he simply held her, held the only person in the world who had ever cried for him

He'd kill for her, destroy for her, savage anyone who dared attempt to take her from him. And he would never let her go...even if she begged for her freedom.

He hugged her again, before she could put some distance between them. Then the most sneaky wolf in the den lowered his voice and whispered, “But you’ve got an advantage, sweetheart. You’re already in his head. And you know how to mess with it.