I have never said this to anyone before.” Leo’s voice was like ragged velvet. “But the idea of you with child is the most insanely arousing thing I’ve ever imagined. Your belly all swollen, your breasts heavy, the funny little way you would walk … I would worship you. I would take care of your every need. And everyone would know that I’d made you that way, that you belonged to me.

All right, then,” she snapped, “do as you please! Perhaps afterward we could manage a coherent discussion.” Twisting beneath him, she flopped onto her stomach.

Christopher went still. After a long hesitation, she heard him ask in a far more normal voice, “What are you doing?”

“I’m making it easier for you,” came her defiant reply. “Go on, start ravishing.”

Another silence. Then, “Why are you facing downward?”

“Because that’s how it’s done.” Beatrix twisted to look at him over her shoulder. A twinge of uncertainty caused her to ask, “Isn’t it?”

His face was blank. “Has no one ever told you?”

“No, but I’ve read about it.”

Christopher rolled off her, relieving her of his weight. He wore an odd expression as he asked, “From what books?”

“Veterinary manuals. And of course, I’ve observed the squirrels in springtime, and farm animals and-”

She was interrupted as Christopher cleared his throat loudly, and again. Darting a confused glance at him, she realized that he was trying to choke back amusement.

Beatrix began to feel indignant. Her first time in a bed with a man, and he was laughing.

“Look here,” she said in a businesslike manner, “I’ve read about the mating habits of over two dozen species, and with the exception of snails, whose genitalia is on their necks, they all — ” She broke off and frowned. “Why are you laughing at me?

Christopher had collapsed, overcome with hilarity. As he lifted his head and saw her affronted expression, he struggled manfully with another outburst. “Beatrix. I’m . . . I’m not laughing at you.”

“You are!”

“No I’m not. It’s just . . .” He swiped a tear from the corner of his eye, and a few more chuckles escaped. “Squirrels . . .”

“Well, it may be humorous to you, but it’s a very serious matter to the squirrels.

The situation was extraordinary. How someone like Evangeline Jenner could have wrought such a change in St. Vincent, the most worldly of men, was difficult to understand. However, Westcliff had learned that the mysteries of attraction could not always be explained through logic. Sometimes the fractures in two separate souls became the very hinges that held them together.

Dear Miss Independent,

I've decided that of all the women I've ever known, you are the only one I will ever love more than hunting, fishing, football, and power tools.

You may not know this, but the other time I asked you to marry me, the night I put the crib together, I meant it. Even though I knew you weren't ready.
God, I hope you're ready now.

Marry me, Ella. Because no matter where you go or what you do, I'll love you every day for the rest of my life. — Jack

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"Lately I've become so damned distracted that I can't make a decision about anything. I can't think clearly. I've got knots in my stomach, and constant pains in my chest, and whenever I see you talking to any man, or smiling at anyone, I go insane with jealousy. I can't live this way. I — " He broke off and stared at her incredulously. "Damn it, Evie, what is there for you to smile about?"
"Nothing," she said, hastily tucking the sudden smile back into the corners of her mouth. "It's just… it sounds as if you're trying to say that you love me."

I've got about ten things to say to you right now. But at least nine of them would make me sound like a psycho.”

In spite of the seriousness of the situation, I nearly smiled. “What’s the tenth thing?” I asked his shirtfront.

He paused, considering it. “Never mind,” he grumbled. “That one would make me sound like a psycho, too.

Captain Phelan,” Cam asked, choosing his words with care. “Have you come to ask for our consent to marry Beatrix?”
Christopher shook his head.

“If I decide to marry Beatrix, I’ll do it with or without your consent.”

Leo looked at Cam. “Good God,” he said in disgust. “This one’s worse than Harry.

Annabelle’s eyes stung as she stared at him, while need and inexhaustible tenderness gathered like an ache in her body. “I realized something,” she said huskily, “when I was standing outside the foundry, watching it burn and knowing you were inside.” She swallowed hard against the thickness in her throat. “I would rather have died in your arms, Simon, than face a lifetime without you. All those endless years… all those winters, summers… a hundred seasons of wanting you and never having you. Growing old, while you stayed eternally young in my memories.” She bit her lip and shook her head, while her eyes flooded. “I was wrong when I told you that I didn’t know where I belonged. I do. With you, Simon. Nothing matters except being with you. You’re stuck with me forever, and I’ll never listen when you tell me to go.” She managed a tremulous smile. “So you may as well stop complaining and resign yourself to it.