“I’ve got a meeting,” she went on, not giving him a chance to respond. He nodded to the basket in her arms. “Yes, I can see that. Demanding lot, laundry.” — Donna Kauffman Copy Share Image
“She was every bit of everything he remembered about her, all at once and all at the same time. That was Kerry McCrae in… — Donna Kauffman Copy Share Image
“Kerry had headed up the back stairs of the pub, and even as exhausted as she was, she’d still found it impossible to wipe… — Donna Kauffman Copy Share Image
“I got waylaid by another of your throng of supporters and well-wishers so you only have yourself to blame.” “So I heard,” he said.… — Donna Kauffman Copy Share Image
“What’s so amusing, wench?” came a gravel-throated voice from behind her, followed by a gentle swat across her sheet-covered backside. “Just plotting my mutiny,… — Donna Kauffman Copy Share Image
“He was very tall, with long arms and legs that would be gawky and awkward on anyone else, but were graceful and elegant on… — Donna Kauffman Copy Share Image
“A clearing of a gravelly throat pulled him from his thoughts. He turned and looked at Thomas, the boat captain, who was seventy if… — Donna Kauffman Copy Share Image
“Cooper,” she said. “Cooper Jax.” As if saying his name would someone break the spell, vanquish the mirage she was still faintly hoping she… — Donna Kauffman Copy Share Image
“I accept your lovely invitation,” he said, then added, “I only have one caveat.” Her relief turned to wary suspicion as she eyed him.… — Donna Kauffman Copy Share Image
“**“I get it,” he said. “I was supposed to give you your space. I didn’t want to. So...I compromised. Only, you frustrate the hell… — Donna Kauffman Copy Share Image
“Running halfway around the world apparently hadn’t been far enough to leave him and all of what had transpired between her and the entire… — Donna Kauffman Copy Share Image
“She shielded her eyes from the sun, her truck keys dangling down the back of her free hand, as Cooper lowered the passenger window… — Donna Kauffman Copy Share Image
“I can’t believe I’m thirty-one-years-old, lying on my back on a pier in broad daylight--in my own hometown, I might add--trying to figure out… — Donna Kauffman Copy Share Image
