Nalini Singh (born February 18, 1945) is an Indian journalist.
To fight evil, you have to understand the dark.
You,” she murmured, using both hands to undo his belt, “are the sexiest man I have ever met. ” He made her think bad thoughts simply by breathing.
He would do things for he'd do for no one else, but while he'd empty the sky for her so she could spread her wings, fly, he would not set her free. She belonged to him, would always belong to him
Hawke," he said. "That's the word you need to be saying.
You almost died. ” “But you brought me back. ” She cupped his face in her hands. “I always knew you were there. Death didn't have a chance against the Wall.
I think Illium can take care of himself. ” “Not if he keeps flirting with you. ” A fine, almost elegant tendril of heat, champagne and sunshine, decadence in the light. “Raphael’s not the sharing kind.
In her lived an innocence of soul of which she seemed unaware.
Ransom thought her girly tendencies the funniest thing ever, constantly teased her over them, but the last time he'd opened his big mouth, she'd gotten her own back by pointing out that his long black hair sure did look well conditioned.
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.
There is one—how would you put it—loophole. ” “Loophole? More like a giant cavern if I have wings.
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.
When the kid began to flag, Riley picked her up, swung her onto his back, and kept running. The leopard in Mercy growled in approval - whatever his faults (and they were many and legend), Riley knew how to take care of the innocent.
The only thing you can do to make me that angry is to lie with another man" ~ Raphael, Guild Hunter, Nalini Singh
To be a legend, you generally had to be dead.
Raphael's pleasure, his kiss, sent her over a second time. . . . and it wasn't until they both stirred again that Raphael reached down and undid the strap of her knife sheath, putting it and the knife on the bedside table. "Beautiful as this sheath is," he said, touching the leather, "I much prefer the one which holds my blade.
You don't fear me," he said now. She wasn't stupid enough to lie. "I'm petrified. But I figure you didn't make me come all this way just so you could push me off the roof.
No, Nathan, no. " She wrapped his face in her hands. "I just need you--all of you--so much that I'm going crazy. I need your laugh. I need your company. I need you to sleep beside me and I need you to wake when I wake. I need you with everything in me.
Once— and most of the night definitely counts as once—you can write off as a mistake. But you do this again and he's going to start thinking he has rights over you. ” She knew predatory changeling men. They liked control. They particularly liked their women to submit. And Riley was one big giant hunk of testosterone-fueled Neanderthal wolf—he probably thought her submission was his right. She snorted. “Not in this lifetime.
Eternity would mean nothing without you. For no power on this earth would I trade my Elena.
Are you calling me your gift?" "Yes. " She smiled. "How do you feel about that?" "Like it's my turn to be unwrapped. " He nibbled at her mouth. "Do it slow.