Best 9 quotes of Victoria Lynne on MyQuotes

But you kissed me!” He wished she’d quit reminding him of that. It just made him want to do it all over again. “Devon, I give you my word, all I intend to do now is sleep.” She studied him through narrowed eyes. “How do I know that once we’re in bed you won’t… won’t…” “Turn into a wild, rutting beast who’s unable to control himself?” he supplied. “Exactly,” she breathed, looking supremely relieved that he’d said it and not she. “That’s very flattering, but I can assure you that you’re quite safe.” He waited until he saw her relax to add casually, “That only happens when the moon is full.

Cole smiled. “Love you,” he whispered softly. “I’ll be back soon to show you how much.

Do you like that, Devon? Do you like the way I touch you?

I’ll teach you to dance.” She smiled. “Right here?” “Absolutely.” “Are you going to sing for me as well?” He sighed. “Have you ever heard a dog howl at the moon?” “That bad, is it?” “I’m probably insulting the dog.

Oh, Cole,” she said, “the jewelry box is lovely—” “It’s not for jewelry.” She gazed up at him, surprised by his somber tone. “Then what—” “It’s a memory box, Devon. Something in which to store all those memories you collect, so you’ll never lose a single one.” He paused, looking both tender and serious at once. “Unlike the wedding gift you gave me, this one comes with strings attached. If you accept it, I expect the next fifty years of your life in return to help fill it up.” Devon bit her lip to hide a wayward, trembling smile. “Only the next fifty?” He shrugged. “We can negotiate after that.” She nodded, swallowing past the tight knot in her throat. “That sounds like a pretty fair deal to me.

She pulled away, almost out of breath, and gazed up into his eyes. They were dark with passion and fire, fit within by a golden glow that sent her pulses racing. “What was that for?” he asked huskily. “Do I need a reason?” “Never.

She took the glass he offered her and drank deeply, then grimaced and shuddered, staring in horror at the contents. “That’s ghastly. What is it?” “Hundred-year-old scotch.” “No wonder it tastes so vile. Do you have anything more recently brewed?

Tell me,” Cole coaxed again, “how would you handle me?” “Well,” she began hesitantly, her eyes locked on his, “I suppose I’d begin by telling you what a fine figure of a man you are. How handsome—” “Forget about my pretty face,” he interrupted.

What am I going to do with you?” he asked huskily. “I don’t know, but I suspect you’ll think of something.