Shirley

“What a woman you are,” he murmured, and she heard the emotion in it, the
way the Irish thickened just a bit in his voice. And saw it in those vivid eyes when he drew back. “That you would think of this. That you would do this.”
He shook his head, kissed her. Like the breath, long and quiet.
“I can’t thank you enough. There isn’t enough thanks. I can’t say what this means to me, even to you. I don’t have the words for it.” He took her hands,
brought them both to his lips. “A ghra. You stagger me.”
He framed her face now, touched his lips to her brow. “You’re the beat of my heart, the breath in my body, the light in my soul.”
― J.D. Robb, Indulgence in Death

“Fine, you do that, and you tell them that at the very first opportunity, I'm coming down there and killing all of them. Mass murder. And after they're all dead, I'm going to kick the bodies around, dance on top of them, and sing a happy song. No jury will convict me.”
― J.D. Robb, Conspiracy in Death

“Roarke: "Darling, before we shift into the official mode, what do you have on under that dress?"
Eve: "A device designed to drive men wild."
Roarke: "It's working. I don't believe I've ever seen your butt move quite that way."
Eve: "It's a cop's butt now, ace, so watch it."
Roarke: "I am." He smiled, gave it a nice solid smack. "Believe me.”
― J.D. Robb, Immortal in Death

“Eve: What is it about asking you Catholic questions that gets you all jumpy?

Roarke: You'd be jumpy, too, if I asked you things that make you feel the hot breath of hell at your back.

Eve: You're not going to hell.

Roarke: Oh, and have you got some inside intel on that?

Eve: You married a cop...you married me. I'm your goddamn salvation.”
― J.D. Robb, Salvation in Death