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He caressed the side of her jaw with his fingertips, sending a light shiver down her spine. "I should warn you that if we lose the paper, we'll have to sell the house.” “That’s fine.” “And the furniture.” “I don’t care.” “And—“ “We can pawn, sell, and trade off everything we own… but if you dare say one thing about my diamond, you’ll regret it for the rest of your married life. This ring is mine, and it's not leaving my finger." He grinned at her vehemence. "I wasn’t going to say anything about your ring, honey.” Bending down to kiss her, he left wet handprints on the waist and bodice of her gown, but Lucy was too enthralled by his hearty kiss to protest. "You taste like coffee," she whispered when his lips left hers. "I could do with more." "Coffee or kisses?" "Always more kisses . . . ↗
Even without having glanced in a mirror, Lucy knew what she looked like. She could feel the puffiness of a sleepless night underneath her eyes, and the mass of tangles in her long hair, and the tender, swollen of her lips. She looked, in fact, like woman who had spent the whole night making love. Lucy was aware of several small aches and twinges in her body, and she was tired and relaxed—and strangely contented. She felt a slight smile coming to her lips, a private, secret smile that she couldn't have explained to anyone, least of all herself. “Father, please . . . I just got up, and I haven't had any coffee-" "It's eleven o'clock in the morning, and you just go up? I've never known you to sleep until this hour, unless you were ill or—" “I stayed up late last night," Lucy said, turning and going to the kitchen, rubbing her eyes and yawning. All totaled, she couldn't have had more than two or three hours of rest. Heath had been insatiable. ↗
She couldn't turn away from the eyes that held her. Eyes as deep, as Dark as the night, yet there was something that sparked with warmth, that kept those eyes from being cold. ↗
I have a history of making decisions very quickly about men. I have always fallen in love fast and without measuring risks. I have a tendency not only to see the best in everyone, but to assume that everyone is emotionally capable of reaching his highest potential. I have fallen in love more times than I care to count with the highest potential of a man, rather than with the man himself, and I have hung on to the relationship for a long time (sometimes far too long) waiting for the man to ascend to his own greatness. Many times in romance I have been a victim of my own optimism. ↗
Never marry at all, Dorian. Men marry because they are tired, women, because they are curious: both are disappointed. ↗
