V.S. Carnes quotes:

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  • They were literally inches from being buried alive in this place, millions of miles from home or any sort of civilization, where they would never be found or mournedand Caine continued to smile.Sweet heavens, he was completely out of his mind!

  • Because you have my heart, Virgilia Wessex.Softly, almost achingly. Every black ounce of it. Scars and all.

  • She thought she loved him. She was crazy.

  • Remind me to thank God I don't have a sister."Caine eyed him critically. He was a filthy heap of blood and soot and sand stuck to the gun oil on his faceYeah," without much enthusiasmI'll thank Him for ya."

  • Southern gentleman," he said aside to him in ArabicDo you wish for me to continue this for you?"Caine's temper shifted to a low simmer in his chestYour way takes too long.""Ma'aleyk, and your way hurts my ears," he argued."

  • Kas was right: a woman could destroy a man. This one could do so, simply by knowing his name. She could do so, simply with her eyes.

  • He smelled the salt on his own lips and the orange blossoms in her hair. Real ones, he could see now, tucked into the curls with cheap, native combs. The sight of them gave him hope.

  • Caine was a murderer. A liar. A cad. A skulker in shadows and a heartless wretch. What sort of woman or God would love someone like him?

  • Kent had begun sleeping with his good eye open, for he knew the mark of sedition when he saw it. Even partway blinded, who could see it better?

  • After all, you are a hero and everything.

  • Caine was a murderer. A liar. A cad. A skulker in shadows and a heartless wretch. What sort of woman or God would love someone like him?"

  • Caine might have smiled at her, had his heart not been breaking to smithereens inside of him."

  • It was a question of insurmountable proportions. A single word that held every fear he had ever had-and every wish he had ever made on those cursed stars. She needn't say more. In a single syllable, she had said more than he wanted to hear in an entire lifetime.

  • Looking back at him was a man who was battered and broken.And alive, for the first time in his life.

  • Caine usually woke from the recurring dream mid-air, having yet to be dashed upon the rocks, whimpering and panting like a child crying for his mother. Now he lifted his eyes to a dark, empty room in Jizan and the unusual, lingering scent of roses, and wept in his hands for his Father.

  • She was a little thing, too, inciting that basic compulsion in him as a man to protect her in so hectic a place as post-war Israel. Even so, his actions were borne out of an entirely different instinct, altogether: to fool her and anyone within a dart's rangeto protect himself.

  • He heard the voice that had called to him in dreams, had saved him from the sands and from following his brother into the river.

  • Oh, Lord, why was she doomed to adore a man steeped in blindness and utter stupidity?

  • This man was no servant. She looked up at him in acute agitation and knew: this man was now her master.

  • By now, she was far from the scorch of these sands. After the ransom deal, she would be safely married in England. To Ashton. And Caine, who had hurt her far more than anything Abdullah had planned for her with that long, curved dagger, deserved no better than this torment of knowing it."

  • She might not bring much gold from a fat pasha locally, but there are men in Israel who would pay handsomely for her safety. Even kill for it.""And die for it?" Though he tilted his head in intrigue, he could not read Caine's expressionWhat about here?" he asked softly, searching his featuresAny of those men here?"

  • His head snapped sharply aside to collide with his own aching shoulder. The hulking brute he had heard referred to as Abdullah leaned into Caine's face while his brain was yet reeling, flexing his fingers from the punch just dealt to his jaw, and said in Arabic, "I did not know English women were so strong."

  • Caine usually woke from the recurring dream mid-air, having yet to be dashed upon the rocks, whimpering and panting like a child crying for his mother. Now he lifted his eyes to a dark, empty room in Jizan and the unusual, lingering scent of roses, and wept in his hands for his Father."

  • No fairy tale, this. This was by no stretch of the imagination a polished fantasy. This was a searing, living force, rough around the edges, unfamiliar and bittersweet.And precious.

  • I remember every good thing about you. Every sweet and perfect thing. And nothing else.He touched her chin, tipped it up to look into her wet brown eyes. Even smudged, they were gorgeous. The dawning light in them filled his heart, and healed it. Nothing else.

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