Noura

“Oh!” This was said brightly, as if she was happy he had noticed. “I decided I needed my own workspace, instead of constantly infringing upon yours. So I had a few of the boys move a desk in here.”

He stared at the petite, feminine, desk that was pushed against his. And wondered how the bloody hell she had managed to convince men who were terrified of him to move the desk inside his domain.

“Absolutely not.”

***

Two hours later, he was still scowling as she happily worked on . . . whatever the hell it was she was working on. Across from him. At her desk. How the hell . . .

He remembered saying no. He remembered cursing. Threatening her unborn children. Then there was a sort of hazy period of smiles and calm words. Then she had touched the back of his hand with her naked fingers.

And now, here he was with . . . her desk . . . pressed to his—surreptitiously watching her scratch her paper, the tip of her tongue poking from the side of her mouth as she worked.”
― Anne Mallory, In Total Surrender

“Tell me something wicked.”
― Julia Quinn, When He Was Wicked

“I love you, he thought, looking at Win. I love every part of you, every thought and word... the entire complex, fascinating bundle of all the things you are. I want you with ten different kinds of need at once. I love all the seasons of you, the way you are now, the thought of how much more beautiful you'll be in the decades to come. I love you for being the answer to every question my heart could ask.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Seduce Me at Sunrise