97 Quotes About Barrons

Home, Ms. Lane?” His deep voice was gently amused.“I have to call it something,” I said morosely. “They say home is where the heart is. I think mine’s satin-linedand six feet under.

And you can tell Darroc that Ms. Lane is mine. If he wants her, he can bloody well come and get her

Burns from dropped matches, Ms. Lane? Matches one might have dropped while flirting with a perniciousFae, Ms. Lane? Have you any idea the value of this rug?”I didn’t think his nostrils could flare any wider. His eyes were black flame. “Pernicious? Good grief, is Englishyour second language? Third?” Only someone who’d learned English from a dictionary would use such a word.“Fifth,” he snarled. “Answer me.

You hated my rainbows, now you don't like my leather. Is there anything you like on me?

There are two kinds of people in the world Ms. Lane: those who survive no matter the cost and those who are walking victims.

He strips his shirt over his head and I catch my breath, watching those long hard muscles ripple. I know how his shoulders look, bunched, when he's on top of me, how his face gets tight with lust, as he eases inside me. "Who am I?""Jericho""Who are you?" He kicks off his boots, steps out of his pants. He's commando tonight.My breath whooshes out of me in a run-on word: "Whogivesafuck?

Dubh is do?" I was incredulous. It was no wonder I hadn't been able to find the stupid word. "Should I becalling pubs poos?""Dubh is Gaelic, Ms. Lane. Pub is not.

When Barrons looks at me like that, it rattles me. Lust, in those ancient, obsidian eyes, offers no trace of humanity. Doesn’t even bother trying. Savage Mac wants to invite it to come out and play. I think she’s nuts. Nuts, I tell you.

Barrons had just given me the most carnal, sexually charged hungry look I'd ever seen in my life, and I was pretty sure he didn't even know he had done it.