Christine Feehan Quote

His hair was the color of dark coffee beans, a dark espresso, drawn back and tied at the nape of his neck. His face was that of an angel or a devil, strength and power, with a sensual mouth that hinted at cruelty; his hooded eyes were black obsidian, black ice, pure black magic.She couldn’t read him, couldn’t feel his emotions or hear his thoughts. That had never happened to her before. Put me down. I feel silly with you carrying me off like some pirate.His long strides were taking them into deep forest. Branches swayed, bushes rustled. Her heart was beating out of control. She tensed, pushed against his shoulders, struggled uselessly.His eyes moved possessively over her face, but his pace didn’t slow, and he didn’t answer her. It was humiliating that he didn’t appear to notice her struggles.Raven allowed her head to fall back against his shoulder with a slight sigh. Did you kidnap me or rescue me?Strong white teeth gleamed at her, a predator’s smile, a man’s amusement. Perhaps a little of both.