“His tone was odd, a mixture of restraint and subtle conviction. He did not make light of the question, nor did he attempt to couch his words in chivalrous courtesy. “He wants you, Marian.” She sighed. “So he says, when… — Jennifer Roberson Copy Share Image
“In that instant Marian was swept up by the need to touch him, to reach out and press flesh to flesh, finger to finger;… — Jennifer Roberson Copy Share Image
“A horse broke through beside her, nearly knocking the mare over. At first Marian thought the horse unmounted, possibly Gisbourne’s, running from the boar, because she saw no rider—and then she did see him and realized he was clad in the colors of the forest, nearly invisible, almost indistinguishable against the emerald, olive, and jade. It was the shock of… — Jennifer Roberson Copy Share
“Her face flamed and her breasts prickled. She did not think again of the sheriff or of his unmarried daughter. She thought instead of herself, and of the man who led her so unerringly through the hall to an adjoining antechamber. They passed even the minstrel, watching over his lute. Blue eyes were brightly knowing; his smile was meant for… — Jennifer Roberson Copy Share
“And we are made different. On the instant. What we know, what we were, is banished by that instant, razed like a castle under… — Jennifer Roberson Copy Share Image
“Pain, Rhuan decided, did not simply hurt. Pain also exhausted a person, sapped his soul, thinned his spirit. Worse, pain was tedious.” — Jennifer Roberson Copy Share Image
“She drew in a huge breath and let it out all at once. "I never thought anyone would want me." Such plain, simple words,… — Jennifer Roberson Copy Share Image
“He was weary. Used up. He had been weary for months, for more than a year. In that weariness, in the exhaustion of his… — Jennifer Roberson Copy Share Image
“Saying nothing, she went to the bed he had devised and lay down upon it stiffly, settling a hip carefully as she turned onto… — Jennifer Roberson Copy Share Image
“His tone was odd, a mixture of restraint and subtle conviction. He did not make light of the question, nor did he attempt to… — Jennifer Roberson Copy Share Image
“It's difficult admitting you're wrong. Even more difficult admitting it when you have scoffed and otherwise ridiculed the truth with blind, unremitting determination, so… — Jennifer Roberson Copy Share Image
“Locksley? It was. The fall of pale hair, the set of wide shoulders, the posture of his body. Unmistakable. She knew him instantly. And… — Jennifer Roberson Copy Share Image
“Now she knew, and spoke it, answering him in kind with cool self-possession, fully cognizant of what the admission could mean. “The fleshly sword,… — Jennifer Roberson Copy Share Image
