Catherine Anderson Quote

In the dim light he could see tears shimmering on her pale cheeks. He bent his head to catch their saltiness with the tip of his tongue.Ah, Blue Eyes, , don’t cry. Has my hand upon you ever brought pain?No, she whispered brokenly.Determined to finish what he had begun, Hunter swept her slender body into his arms and strode to the bed. Lowering her gently onto the fur, he stretched out beside her and gathered her close, his manhood throbbing with urgency against the confining leather of his pants. He half expected her to struggle, and perhaps if she had, he could have continued, his one thought to consummate their marriage, to put her fears behind them and ease the ache in his loins. But instead of fighting him, she wrapped her slender arms around his neck and clung to him, so rigid with fear that she felt brittle, her limbs quivering almost uncontrollably.In a voice thick with tears, she said, Hunter--would you do one thing for me? Just one small thing. Please?He splayed a hand on her back and felt the wild hammering of her heart. What thing, Blue Eyes?Would you get it over with quickly? I won’t ever ask again, I swear it. Just this time, ?Hunter buried a smile in her hair and closed his eyes, tightening his arms around her. His father’s voice whispered. The words no sooner came to him than a dozen forgotten memories did as well. For an instant the years rolled away, and Hunter saw himself running hand in hand with Willow by the Stream through a meadow of red daisies, their laughter ringing across the windswept grass, their eyes shining with love as they drank in the sight of one another. He remembered so many things in that instant--the love, yes, but mostly he remembered the friendship he and Willow had shared, the trust, the silliness, the laughter. Ah, yes, the laughter…He and his little blue-eyes had laughed together so few times that Hunter had difficulty recalling they had. Suddenly he knew that without the laughter, their loving would fall far short of what it should be. Especially for her.In a voice that rasped with frustration as well as tender amusement, Hunter said, You have such a great want for me that we must hurry, yes?

Catherine Anderson

In the dim light he could see tears shimmering on her pale cheeks. He bent his head to catch their saltiness with the tip of his tongue.Ah, Blue Eyes, , don’t cry. Has my hand upon you ever brought pain?No, she whispered brokenly.Determined to finish what he had begun, Hunter swept her slender body into his arms and strode to the bed. Lowering her gently onto the fur, he stretched out beside her and gathered her close, his manhood throbbing with urgency against the confining leather of his pants. He half expected her to struggle, and perhaps if she had, he could have continued, his one thought to consummate their marriage, to put her fears behind them and ease the ache in his loins. But instead of fighting him, she wrapped her slender arms around his neck and clung to him, so rigid with fear that she felt brittle, her limbs quivering almost uncontrollably.In a voice thick with tears, she said, Hunter--would you do one thing for me? Just one small thing. Please?He splayed a hand on her back and felt the wild hammering of her heart. What thing, Blue Eyes?Would you get it over with quickly? I won’t ever ask again, I swear it. Just this time, ?Hunter buried a smile in her hair and closed his eyes, tightening his arms around her. His father’s voice whispered. The words no sooner came to him than a dozen forgotten memories did as well. For an instant the years rolled away, and Hunter saw himself running hand in hand with Willow by the Stream through a meadow of red daisies, their laughter ringing across the windswept grass, their eyes shining with love as they drank in the sight of one another. He remembered so many things in that instant--the love, yes, but mostly he remembered the friendship he and Willow had shared, the trust, the silliness, the laughter. Ah, yes, the laughter…He and his little blue-eyes had laughed together so few times that Hunter had difficulty recalling they had. Suddenly he knew that without the laughter, their loving would fall far short of what it should be. Especially for her.In a voice that rasped with frustration as well as tender amusement, Hunter said, You have such a great want for me that we must hurry, yes?

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About Catherine Anderson

Catherine Anderson (born December 22, 1948) is an American best-selling writer of historical and contemporary romance novels since 1988.