32 Quotes About Helena

For darn certain, that other sensation (which she was not going to think about) was her body telling her the time had come to give away that virginity of hers—just like those size seven jeans in the back of her closet. How unkind to keep something someone else could put to good use. Greedy, greedy girl.

Helena abruptly stopped, cursing herself for deciding to go on this stupid trip to the ruins. If only she’d stayed at the hotel with her friends, none of this would’ve happened. Now her life was basically over; she’d end up dinner or a prisoner of some deranged nudist vampire.

She had to get a hold of herself. She had to run. Did she have a chance of making it out alive? Something told her “no.” Definitely no. The chamber exit, a narrow doorway, led to an even narrower passage that would dump her back into the dark jungle. She wouldn’t make it two feet before he barreled down on her with those powerful thighs. Yes, powerful thighs. Ummm. She ground her palm into her forehead. Tramp! Get a hold of yourself.

The corner of his mouth twitched with an arrogant smirk. “You are my mate, sì?” “Mate?” Like, as in…first? Buddy? Other shoe? Niccolo took another small step forward, lightly pressing his body, and every hard part in between, against hers. Her body instantly responded with prickly goose bumps. “Your mate,” he said, then slowly bent his head to nuzzle her neck. “Designed by fate and the universe to be your ideal companion in every way.

Oh God, now she couldn’t remember why she’d ever left him. She needed him. More than air or sunlight and beaches, definitely more than garlic.

You do not mean that, my sweet. I know you are lying.” Yes. Maybe. Crap! I don’t…“No".

Kiss me, woman. I command you,” the voice echoed, this time compelling her to obey. Helena’s survival instincts gave her a hard kick, jarring her back into the horrific reality of the situation. But as she tried to regain control of her body, her tongue slipped from her mouth and wet her lips. Traitorous tongue. Backstabbing lips. What the hell are you doing?

She had witnessed Niccolo flag down a blue pickup that night by merely whispering, “Stop your mechanical carriage.

Helena, my love,” she heard a deep voice whisper from behind. Helena gasped and held on tight to that breath. Jeans clutched to her chest, she turned slowly toward the voice. There was no one there. “It’s official. I’m obsessed.