You don't do violence, Francesca, not unless it's self-defense or in defense of our family. I won't have that on your soul. You're going to be my wife. The mother of my children. You're about love and...
Years ago women were nothing, Eloisa. They had no rights. They couldn't own property. They were property. That changed because it wasn't right. Children were beaten regularly by parents. That changed...
The lights threw her Shadow into sharp relief behind her on the wall. The shadow was dark and thin, but threw out strong tubes, feelers reaching toward other shadows. When there were none, the feelers...
He was a Rider. A shadow rider. It was who he was. What he was. A rider no choice but to do what he'd been trained for from the age of two -- even before that. It was in his bones, in his blood, he co...
She put her hand in his, and he smiled. It was as if for her, the sun came out. His smile took her breath and made her inexplicably happy because, she sensed, he rarely smiled and it was like a gift.
He preferred curves to supermodel thin. He didn't understand why women were so hard on themselves. Francesca was beautiful and he didn't want a single pound to go away.
He needed a woman strong enough to accept that he would always need his ropes. They anchored him. Centered him. The moment he touched them, those dark shifting shadows inside him subsided.
She cleared her throat. I dont like that sort of thing. [...] What sort of thing? His gaze dropped to her mouth. Held there. [...]The F-word sort of thing. She blurted it out, saying the first thing t...
There was always a trail, skin cells, a scent, thermal imaging, parts left behind that the riders called prints. Sometimes those proved helpful when tracking an individual, especially if they were fre...
Poetry in motion, she murmured under her breath. She'd heard that expression, but now she knew what it meant, how the words could come alive with a man moving.
He had learned to kill and then he had killed. Many times. Fourteen was far too young for his artistic mind to accept the violence and he'd been fortunate that he'd met his teacher, a rope master of m...
For one moment his mask slipped and she saw his eyes go dark with desire. Every line in his face was etched with a sensuality that kept her breath trapped deep in her lungs. No one had ever looked at...
He caught her hand, curling his fingers around hers and bringing it to his chest as he leaned into her. I'm sorry for being a dick. Sometimes I just am, but I'll watch it. Giovanni snorted his derisio...
She took away sorrow and anger, replacing it with acceptance and love.
Vittorio practiced discipline at all times. This was one of those times when he needed to stay very calm. Deep inside, the volcano that could emerge was at a boiling point.
She looked desperate. He felt that way. He wasn't about to be separated from her. No matter what, I'll be with you, he promised.
She didn't think she had anything to offer him. He got that. She had no money, no family, nothing at all in her eyes. Yet she gave him this magnificent gift - her and her trust, when she had no reason...
What had he done to try to save himself? Nothing. He'd done nothing. He'd let fate decide, closing his eyes and giving himself up to the judgment of the universe.
For all the downsides to being a rider, there was his family. Always there. Always ready to help and watch out for one another. His family was one of the biggest gifts he had to offer Grace.
Her courage humbled him. The immense trust it took to allow herself to be tied by him, even in the name of art, was astonishing for a woman like her. It was a true power exchange between them and he l...
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