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A naked blade sheathed in velvet, that was Raphael's voice.
Nalini Singh
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Nalini Singh
Age: 79
Born: 1945
Born: February 17
Author
Journalist
Writer
Blade
Velvet
Blades
Naked
Voice
Sheathed
Raphael
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Your weapons-master appears to have an actual, beating heart, she said to Raphael. Who knew? Jessamy. I concede that point. Elena referring to Galen
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As an example of wealth, good taste, and subtle intimidation, it took first prize.
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Love is the greatest form of loyalty, one that places happiness of the beloved over the lover.
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Holding her gaze, he closed the final distance between them and went down to his knees, that beautiful bruised face looking up at her.
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We die, she said, we die together. That's the deal.
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No,” he responded, reaching out to trace the shell of her ear. “They grew back even more beautiful. Blue edged with silver.” Elena laughed at the scowl in his voice.
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For the first time in forever, he was stunned to silence. Not by her words, but by the tenderness in her hands, the worry in her eyes. He was an archangel. He’d been wounded far, far worse and shrugged it off. But then, there had been no woman with sun kissed by the sunset and eyes of storm gray to tear into him for daring to get himself hurt.
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Elena wondered if Michaela was waiting to be served. Snorting inwardly at the idea, she poured her own coffee—and, because she was feeling generous, and okay, maybe because she wanted to irritate Michaela—Raphael’s as well. Then she put down the carafe.
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Take her to the kitchen,” came the order. “If she lies, throw her in the cauldron. “He was jesting about the cauldron, wasn’t he? You cannot have a cauldron big enough for a person?” Bard halted, sighed, looked at her with those wide, liquid eyes.“We,” he said, “have knives.
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Venom’s pupils contracted the instant before he slid his sunglasses back on. She couldn’t help it. “Why isn’t your tongue forked?” “Why can’t you fly?” A smirk. “Those things on your back aren’t accessories you know.
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They didn't understand that she held his heart, held it so utterly that there was nothing he wouldn't do, no line he wouldn't cross to keep her safe.
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... because he was going to marry her. “It is customary to ask,” she now said as she turned to watch him button up a black shirt over that chest she’d licked and sucked and kissed not long ago. “Why?” He shrugged. “I’m not giving you a choice.
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Heart of my heart, that’s who you are, Adria Morgan. Chosen and forever.” Picking her hand off his cheek, he pressed a lingering kiss to the palm before placing it over the strong, steady rhythm of that very organ. “Wolf and man, you own every part of me.
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You’re in my every breath and every thought, intertwined so deep inside me that love’s not a strong enough word—you have my devotion, your name branded on my soul, my wolf yours to command. A hundred years? It’ll never be enough. I want eternity.
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