Romantic Suspense Quotes - Page 6

Her skin glowed in dawn's soft light sneaking in through curtains, and she stretched her arms up toward the ceiling in a move that elongated everything above her waist and below his belt.

Better to beg forgiveness, than to ask for permission anyway.

Kindle Alexander

She glanced at her watch. He'd been massaging his legs for half an hour. "I think that's enough," she said firmly. "Don't you want to go back to bed?"tHe straightened up in the wheelchair and his teeth flashed in a grin. "Baby, I'm so tired of that bed, the only way you could get me back in it would be if you crawled in there with me.

She whimpered softly into his mouth. "We can't," she cried, desperation and desire tearing her apart.t"The hell we can't," he rasped, taking her hand and moving it down his body to where his flesh strained at the fabric of his pants. Her fingers jerked at the contact: then a spasm of pain crossed her pale face, and her hand lingered involuntarily, exploring the dimensions of his arousal. He caught his breath. "Jay, baby, don't' stop me now!

His head jerked up. For another moment he was motionless. Her lips were parted slightly, trembling. Her eyes looked heavy. Her nipples were hard little circles plainly visible though the wet dress, her arms limp at her sides as she let him look. He shuddered, and his control snapped.tShe couldn't move. He walked toward her without taking his gaze from her, without seeing or hearing anything else, a primal male animal intent on mating. He was breathing hard and deep, his nostrils flaring. Water dripped off him as he moved. She waited, shaking with need and fear, because he was out of control and she knew it. It was an exhilarating terror, freezing her but at the same filling her with an anticipation so acute she was almost in pain.tThen his hands were on her, and she moaned aloud from the sudden release of tension.tShe didn't have time to respond. She had expected to be swept up in his arms and carried to bed, but he had gone far beyond paying attention to niceties. Nothing mattered to him but to have her, right then.

Her lips parted slightly in a smile so female it took his breath away, and her deep blue eyes beckoned him, dared him. Once again her hips lifted. "What are you waiting for?" she breathed.t"For you," he answered, and even as he lost himself in the mindless ecstasy of making love to her, the truth of that remained. He'd waited for her forever.

Sudden, hell. I've been hard for two months.

Deputy Grayson?"tHe turned to stare down into those soft green eyes, his pulse ratcheting up. "Yes, Miss Smith?"t"Thank you." She touched his arm. "And no matter what happens, I promise I'm not a bad person."She flung her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek....tWarmth rushed through Nash and tingling spread from where Phoebe's lips had touched his cheek. He raised a hand to the spot and stared at the woman, a frown pulling his brows downward.tHe hadn't begun the day with the intent of finding a runaway bride stranded on the side of the road. Scenarios like that were only found in those unrealistic romance novels women liked reading.No. He hadn't asked for a kiss. But now that she'd done it, she couldn't undo it, and he couldn't unfeel it.

Nash." Lola nodded toward the disappearing SUV. "Deputy Grayson." She grinned. "His first name is Nash. He's one of the four Grayson brothers. Every last one of them is tall, dark and so handsome they'll make your panties damp.

Phoebe stared into his blue eyes. "What would you do if you ran away from a wedding in a car that didn't belong to you and discovered a body in the trunk about the time a sheriff's deputy rolled up behind you?" She flung her hand in the air, and assumed a high-pitched, sarcastic tone. "Hi, I'm a rich man's daughter with a dead man in my trunk. Could you help me get him out so I can be on my merry way?

He covered her hands with his. "Why the hurry?"t"Seriously?" She stared at him, her jaw dropping. "I'm on fire! If we wait one more minute, I'm certain the sheets will spontaneously combust. I won't be held responsible if your house burns down because you wanted to waste time on foreplay.

This thing I feel for you... I've never felt like this about anyone, Tegan.

They were very sweet words. Words that soothed the gaping hurt in her soul. But the devil was good when it comes to dealing with damaged souls.

Jay stepped into the room, and for a split second both her heart and lungs seemed to stop functioning. Then her heart lurched into rhythm again, and she drew a deep, painful breath. Tears sprang to her eyes as she stared at the inert form on the white hospital bed, and his name trembled soundlessly on her lips. It didn't seem possible that this ... this could be Steve.

His gaze strayed to her mouth as her tongue darted out to swipe cream off her bottom lip. He had to actually bite back a groan at the sight. He'd been with women who knew how to seduce, how to do everything right - because it was all choreographed and fake. With Dominique, he knew there was not artifice.tEven if she was driving him crazy.

Tell me what you want," he demanded. "Say the words." Because he needed to hear them. Some primal part of him wanted her to spell it out.tHer cheeks were flushed, her eyes heavy-lidded. "Kiss me."t"Where?

He couldn't live in a world with her and not have her in his life. Nope. Not happening.t"You're mine," he growled against her swollen lips. The words came out guttural as he held back the urge to slam into her.

He laughed, the sound so sweet to her ears because he rarely seemed to do it. "I think it's time I got you fed." He reached a hand down, palmed her ass before squeezing possessively. "Then I plan to eat you. Slowly.

It is the Valley of Fear, the Valley of Death. The terror is in the hearts of the people from the dusk to the dawn. Wait, young man, and you will learn for yourself.---Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

If you are true soul mates, you never meet as strangers, you meet feeling like you’ve known each other forever. You feel at peace, calm, happy—you feel complete.

She had opened the refrigerator door and was looking at her supply of frozen microwave dinners with an expression of distaste when the doorman buzzed. Deciding to forget about dinner, something she'd done too often lately, she depressed the switch. "Yes, Dennis?"t"Mr. Payne and Mr. McCoy are here to see you, Ms. Granger," Dennis said smoothly. "From the FBI."t"What?" Jay asked, startled, sure she'd misunderstood.tDennis repeated the message, but the words remained the same.tShe was totally dumbfounded. "Send them up," she said, because she didn't know what else to do. FBI? What on earth? Unless slamming your apartment door was somehow against federal law, the worst she could be accused of was tearing the tags off her mattress and pillows. Well, why not? This was a perfectly rotten end to a perfectly rotten day.

It was worse than she’d expected.“None?” she asked.“No fresh boot prints anywhere around the perimeter of the house,” Sheriff Coughlin confirmed.“It was windy last night. Maybe the drifting snow filled in the prints?” Even before she finished speaking, the sheriff was shaking his head.“With the warm temperatures we’ve been having, the snow is either frozen or wet and heavy. If someone had walked through that yard last night, there would’ve been prints.”Daisy hid her wince at his words, even though they hit as hard as an elbow to the gut, and struggled to keep her voice firm. “There was someone walking around the outside of that house last night, Sheriff. I don’t know why there aren’t any boot prints, but I definitely saw someone.”He was giving her that look again, but it was worse, because she saw a thread of pity mixed in with the condescension. “Have you given more thought to starting therapy again?”The question surprised her. “Not really. What does that have to do…?” As comprehension dawned, a surge of rage shoved out her bewilderment. “I didn’t imagine that I saw someone last night. There really was a person there, looking in the side window.”All her protest did was increase the pity in his expression. “It must get lonely here by yourself.”“I’m not making things up to get attention!” Her voice had gotten shrill, so she took a deep breath. “I even said there was no need for you to get involved. I only suggested one of the on-duty deputies drive past to scare away the kid.”“Ms. Little.” His tone made it clear that impatience had drowned out any feelings of sympathy. “Physical evidence doesn’t lie. No one was in that yard last night.”“I know what I saw.”The sheriff took a step closer. Daisy hated how she had to crane her neck back to look at him. It made her feel so small and vulnerable. “Do you really?” he asked. “Eyewitness accounts are notoriously unreliable. Even people without your issues misinterpret what they see all the time. The brain is a tricky thing.”Daisy set her jaw as she stared back at the sheriff, fighting the urge to step back, to retreat from the man looming over her. There had been someone there, footprints or no footprints. She couldn’t start doubting what she’d witnessed the night before. If she did, then that meant she’d gone from mildly, can’t-leave-the-house crazy, to the kind of crazy that involved hallucinations, medications, and institutionalization. There had to be some other explanation, because she wasn’t going to accept that. Not when her life was getting so much better.She could tell by looking at his expression that she wasn’t going to convince Coughlin of anything. “Thank you for checking on it, Sheriff. I promise not to bother you again.”Although he kept his face impassive, his eyes narrowed slightly. “If you…see anything else, Ms. Little, please call me.”That wasn’t going to happen, especially when he put that meaningful pause in front of “see” that just screamed “delusional.” Trying to mask her true feelings, she plastered on a smile and turned her body toward the door in a not-so-subtle hint for him to leave. “Of course.”Apparently, she needed some lessons in deception, since the sheriff frowned, unconvinced. Daisy met his eyes with as much calmness as she could muster, dropping the fake smile because she could feel it shifting into manic territory. She’d lost enough credibility with the sheriff as it was.The silence stretched until Daisy wanted to run away and hide in a closet, but she managed to continue holding his gaze. The memory of Chris telling her about the sheriff using his “going to confession” stare-down on suspects helped her to stay quiet.Finally, Coughlin turned toward the door. Daisy barely managed to keep her sigh of relief silent.“Ms. Little,” he said with a short nod, which she returned.“Sheriff.”Only when he was through the doorway with the door locked behind him did Daisy’s knees start to shake.

You really need better spatial awareness.” A familiar, deep voice from behind her made her jump out of her skin.Feeling almost numb, she turned to find Graysen West standing there—and looking way too sexy for his own good. Or for her own good. She’d thought she was completely alone in the elevator.She blinked once. Yep, he was still there. Well over six feet of raw masculinity, bright blue eyes she could drown in, and a disapproving frown that somehow made him look sexy.Isa felt almost possessed as she lashed out. A year of built-up anger and hurt came bursting to the surface. Her arm was moving before she’d processed what she was doing but when her fist connected with his nose, she cursed at the pain that jolted through her hand. Punching someone hurt.

I think I've proved that I'm not to be trusted," he said."Then why do I feel safer now that I have in my entire life?""Because you're just as screwed up as me.

Get off me, Bran!" she howled, her sweet breath brushing his lips when she turned her head to look at him. "If you get yourself killed bein' all heroic and brave, I swear on my granddaddy's grave, I'll murder you!

Julie Ann Walker

I'm not going anywhere...

She owed him nothing - less than nothing.

You were a kidnapping waiting to happen - you're lucky it was me.""Luckiest day of my life.

You're not what I expected in a pirate."He laughed, curtly. "You're not what I expected in a princess.

She turned her head, and the skin of her cheek caught the moonlight, smooth as satin. Tough and beautiful. He grimaced. Tu agis sans passion et sans haine. You act without passion and without hatred. He'd recited the line every day of his nineteen years in the Legion, but it'd never resonated as strongly as it did now.

I'll shower, then we can go. I smell like a zombie."Hell, if the undead looked like that, bring on the zombie apocalypse.

Since Paul wasn’t a big conversationalist—he was the anti-Mac, in other words, and today had been the longest she’d ever heard him speak in consecutive sentences—Jena watched the scenery for a while. Then she decided to study the inside of Paul’s truck to see what she could learn about him.Technically, it was exactly like hers and Gentry’s. It had a black exterior with a blue light bar across the top and the Louisiana Department of Wildlife and Fisheries Enforcement Division logo on the doors.It was tech heavy on the front dash, just like theirs, with LDWF, Terrebonne Parish Sheriff’s Office, and Louisiana State Police Troop C radios, a laptop, a GPS unit, and a weather unit.In her truck and in Gentry’s, the cords and wires were a colorful tangle of plastic and metal, usually with extra plugs dangling around like vines. Paul’s cords were all black, and he had them woven in pairs and tucked underneath the dash, where they neatly disappeared.She leaned over to see how he’d achieved such a thing, and noticed identical zip ties holding them in place.“Sinclair, I hate to ask, but what are you doing?”He sounded more bemused than annoyed, so she said, “I’m psychoanalyzing you based on the interior of your truck.”He almost ran off the road. “Why?”“Your scintillating conversation was putting me to sleep.”His dark brows knit together but he seemed to have no answer to that.She turned around in her seat, as much as the seat belt allowed, and continued her study. Paul had a 12-gauge shotgun and a .223 carbine mounted right behind the driver’s seat, same as in her own truck. The mounts had hidden release buttons so the agents could get the guns out one-handed and quickly.But where her truck had a catch-all supply of stuff, from paper towels to zip ties to evidence bags to fast-food wrappers thrown in the back, Paul’s backseat was empty but for a zippered storage container normal people used for shoes. Each space held different things, all neatly arranged. Jena spotted evidence bags in one. Zip ties in another. Notebooks. Citation books. Paperwork. A spare uniform hung over one window, with a dry-cleaner’s tag dangling from the shirt’s top button.Good Lord. She turned back around.“What did you learn?” Paul finally asked.“You’re an obsessive-compulsive neat freak,” she said. “Accent on freak.

Susannah Sandlin

Whenever she was in his arms, she forgot she even had a name.

Julie Ann Walker

She shook her head. "I guess... that begs the question: just how many people have you slept with?"...t"All I can say for sure is the number is more than you can count on your fingers and toes. But less than the population of Miami.

Julie Ann Walker

I might be bluffing, you miserable, vomitous mass!" Bran yelled. Oh, for heaven's sake. Really? He's quotin' The Princess Bride?

Julie Ann Walker

How do I say 'kiss me' in French?" she whispered."Embrasse moi."Oh yes, even that sounded better in French.

I've never had a problem with a woman who knows what she wants and isn't afraid to ask for it."tEven as her heart stuttered, she narrowed her eyes. "Is that supposed to be a come-on?"tHe lifted his hands and donned an innocent expression. "Wouldn't think of it.

Julie Ann Walker

She blinked at him, mouth open. "Do you really think it's wise to insult a woman who's holdin' a needle this far away? - she held her fingers an inch apart - "From your Grand Master of Ceremonies?

Julie Ann Walker

Pretending to him that she felt something would be easy. Pretending to herself that she didn't? That was a whole other story.

I should have tried getting blown up months ago if that's what it takes to get you to be nice to me.

He paused and looked up at her with the gleam of a predator in his gaze. She shivered at the intensity, more than happy to be his prey.

I don't have casual sex," she said.He almost smiled. It was merely an expression in those pale eyes, rather than an actual movement of his mouth. "My dear, I promise you there wouldn't be anything casual about it.

Everybody has scars; some are more visible than others, that’s all. But anyone without a scar is someone I don’t want to know because it’s someone who doesn’t feel things deeply. You have to understand loss to recognize a gift when you see it.”tHe leaned over and kissed her again. “You are my gift. I want to be yours, if you’ll let me.

Susannah Sandlin

She sashayed into the kitchen like she lived there, and grabbed two glasses from the counter, rinsed them in the sink, all very domestic.tHis eyes strayed to her breasts. “You came to do dishes?”t“I came to come.” She winked, smiling from ear to ear.t“Gotta appreciate a straight-talking woman.

In the middle of the house stood the largest, scariest man she’d ever seen. Senhor Finch had been sunshine, but this foreigner was a night storm. He seemed to fill the house like a dark cloud. Too big, too strong, his gaze too sharp on her. And as she turned to flee, he thundered, “Stop!”tAnd the next second, the man had her arm in his grip.

When I was young, I wanted to be an astronaut. Someone who flies in a spaceship to the moon,” he explained, in case she didn’t know the word.tShe thought about that for a moment. “But you didn’t go.”t“Turns out I have dyslexia. It’s something in your brain that makes it hard to learn. Mine is not bad, just enough so I couldn’t pass the test.”t“I’m glad you didn’t go to the moon,” she said. “I think it’s better that you came here.

The Potomac had taken away Linda and the boys.tThe Rio Negro had given him Daniela.tOne river had swallowed his heart; another river, halfway around the world, had gifted it back. A different heart, beaten up, scarred, but a beating heart at least.

Quickly, Ian learned the danger of holding her. Once he allowed his arm around her, letting her go was nearly impossible.

She could live without her past. She was better off without her past. But Ian couldn’t live without his heart.

As he waited for her, he braced himself for the sight of her, ready to turn out the light as soon as she reached her bed.tBut when Daniela came in, she wasn’t wearing her nightgown. She returned from the bathroom in a bath towel. And then she locked the door behind her and dropped the towel. Drops of water glistened on her naked skin as if she’d been painted with diamonds.t“Christ,” he breathed.

I love you more than piranhas love chicken wings.

I have loved you from the moment you opened your eyes, and I will continue to love you long after I close mine. I will always be yours Aurora. I don’t exist without you.

I'm not good at games, Robert. Don't kiss me unless it's for read. Don't come around unless you mean to stay.""Do you mean marriage?" he asked coolly, his expressive eyebrows lifting...."if you're looking for a summer affair, I'm not your woman."His mouth twisted as an unreadable expression crossed his face. "Oh, but you are. You just haven't admitted it to yourself yet.

How ‘bout you, Jena?” He leaned closer, speaking in an exaggerated whisper. “We could go somewhere private. I know you probably got some scars from being shot, but you can’t see a scar in the dark, right?”tThe dickwad was offering her a pity fuck in a darkened room?

Susannah Sandlin

Do you want me?" she whispered, licking him again. She felt very warm, and slightly drunk with her feminine power. Desire was unfurling inside her, opening like a flower. Her breasts throbbed, and she rubbed them against his leg.He gave a strangled laugh, almost undone by her natural sensuality. "Look a few inches to your right and tell me what you think.

Why are you stripping in my front yard at six in the morning? I have neighbors you know.

She didn't want to handle him. She didn't want anything to do with him - this man with his cold, intense eyes and clipped speech, this stranger, this Yankee. He made her feel like a rabbit facing a cobra: terrified, but fascinated at the same time. He tried to hide his ruthlessness behind smooth, cosmopolitan manners, but Evie had no doubts about the real nature of the man.He wanted her. He intended to have her. And he wouldn't care if he destroyed her in the taking.

No matter what happens to us, I will ensure that she will never forget this moment in her life. That she will think of this day, this evening, this moment...

Jena Sinclair had taught him a couple of things about himself in the past few minutes that he didn’t want to know.tFirst, sometime in the past five years, a deep fatigue had wrapped itself around him – not the fatigue that could be slept off with a soft bed and a warm blanket, but the fatigue caused by a tightened harness that restricted. That promised no end to long days and longer nights. A harness of his own making.tCole had realized another surprising thing too. Very surprising for the man who needed nothing and no one.tHe was lonely.

Susannah Sandlin

He’d danced around that story about why he’d moved to Terrebonne more smoothly than an Olympic skater on ice.

Susannah Sandlin

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