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384 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published November 4, 2003
There was nothing romantic about Diaz, no murmured sweet things, no gallant gestures, just this kiss that went on and on, deep and voracious. She’d never been kissed like this before, with an intensity that stripped everything down to the simplest components: male, female. He held her with his hand burrowed into her hair, her skull gripped in his palm, her head tilted back while he fed from her mouth. That was what it felt like, a taking. And yet he gave, too.
It was sex as she had never known it before, raw and powerful, surprisingly sophisticated in execution but primitive in design and intent.
"He wasn't carrying a weapon, at least none that she could see. But though his hands were empty, she wasn't reassured, because his eyes were the coldest, most remote eyes she'd ever seen. She was looking into the eyes of a killer, and though she was so frightened she was shaking, there was something mesmerizing about that gaze and she found herself unable to look away."
“She felt both relaxed and protected with him, at least from outside forces. Nothing, it seemed, could protect her from him, and tonight she wasn’t even certain she wanted to be. Claimed, and mated. She was his, but was he hers? And if he was, what in hell did they do about it?
“I don’t even know what you want,” she said fretfully, beginning to lose herself in rising sensation.
“This,” he muttered in a dark, rough tone. “You.
Everything.”
"He crouched in front of her, his eyes almost level with hers. “I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry.” Cautiously he reached out and took her hand, as if making such contact wasn’t something he normally did and he wasn’t quite sure how to go about it. His fingers were hard and hot, his palm was callused; he cradled her hand in his and stroked his thumb over her knuckles. “Are you okay?”"
"She felt him move as he heaved himself up; then he was propped on his elbow, leaning over her and blocking the sun. “You’d better say no,” he murmured, flattening his hand on her stomach. The heat from his palm burned through her wet clothing to her chilled skin; then he slipped his fingertips under the waistband of her jeans and she felt the heat go all the way through her."
She woke crying, as she always did.
Fueled by an obsession to fill the void in other people’s lives, Milla Edge finds lost children—all the while trying to outrun the brutal emotions stemming from a tragedy in her past.
His profile was tough, contained, a little grim. His jaw was still covered with stubble, his lips compressed as if he found nothing in his life to be joyous
Maybe if he tried it more often, he thought with black humor, he wouldn’t seem to hungry. But taking care of the matter himself was easiest, so he did. It was been a couple of years since he’s seen a woman he was attracted to enough to consider having sex with – until he saw Milla Edge
Her mouth was completely feminine, soft and full and pink. And her eyes … her brown eyes were the saddest eyes he’d ever seen
Besides did she really want to climb into bed with a man she was half afraid of? Maybe just once, her libido whispered.
"By morning, she was raw and sore, and knew walking would be an effort. By morning, she could barely remember what it had been like to not know his body, not to have felt him inside her and held him in her arms and absorbed the power of his thrusts as he came.
By morning, she was his."
The darkly overcast sky, the gray and turbulent Atlantic, and the cold gray rain all blended together, robbing the day of both sunlight and color
You will not regret it.
”Everything feels like the end of the world, and you can’t reason with someone who can’t see tomorrow.”
"Nothing much impresses me, but that was the bravest thing I've ever seen."