2,226 Quotes About Contemporary-romance

The blues are intent and watchful. “You’re trying to get me to change my mind, aren't you?”“Lilah, I constantly hope that you are going to change your mind, but I know you well enough to know that you won’t.” I just nod at him.

Ryan allowed himself a moment to enjoy the sight of her legs, long and muscular and indicative of her previous life as a dancer.Off-limits nannies shouldn't be allowed to have legs like that. A man could only get through so many lonely nights before he started to dream of sleek limbs wrapping around him and never letting go.Thankfully for them both, she lifted those sleek limbs away from his grasp. Out of reach, out of mind.Or at least in theory, anyway.

This was my love, her love --torn, damaged, broken, ripped apart and put back together. This was our tattered love.

My God, Mace was all man, the kind of man every warm-blooded woman would love to take home for the night, tie to her bed and let loose on. Sitting this close to him, my mind conjured up a long list of things I could do, just with my mouth.

Scarlett Garcia fell at the feet of no gloriously delicious man!

There are no guarantees with love,’ her father said, reading her mind. ‘You can’t hold some of it back, like a deposit, so you can get your money back if something goes wrong. You have to give yourself wholeheartedly, whatever the cost.

Kitty waved her free hand to show that she was ok, although she was very tempted to stand over one of Adam’s window-washing puddles and pretend her waters had broken just to see what he would do.

Outside, the sunlight had turned pale lemon, but the studio remained cool. The white walls and white-tiled splashback behind the sink were made more clinical by the metal tables which looked as if they’d originally been intended for use in an operating theatre. Even though they were laid out with brushes and paints rather than forceps and retractors, the effect was equally daunting; both sets of tools could open you up in strange and unexpected ways.

He’s been a bit grumpy since Potato Day.’She heard Gethin choke back a laugh.‘He set up an all-day workshop on all things potato after reading up about successful winter events at other nurseries,’ she went on, unable to hide her own amusement. ‘It was a terrible failure. Hardly anyone turned up apart from our poet, Wilfie, who wrote a Potat-Ode to celebrate the occasion.