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384 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published April 1, 1995
“I happen to be immature, undisciplined, and self-centered, pretty much a little boy in a man's body, although I'd appreciate it if you didn't quote me on that.”
“The cowboys named it Heaven because it had the best whorehouses between San Antone and Austin.”
Her sense of honor wouldn’t allow her to take anything from him the way everybody else did. She would give herself to him out of the fullness of her heart, not with the hope of receiving anything in return. And when it was over, this man who had been kissed by the gods would at least be able to remember that Gracie Snow was the one person in his life who had never taken anything from him.
“Sweetheart, I don’t think there’s going to be any pain, if that’s what you’re worried about. Now I’m no gynecologist, but you’re thirty years old, and whatever barrier might have been there when you were a youngster has got to have evaporated from old age by now.”
“You have an unusual house. Have you lived here long?"
"A couple of years. I don't much like it myself, but the architect is real proud of it. She calls it urban Stone Age with a Japanese Tahitian influence. I sort of just call it ugly.”
"She was of medium height, neither shirt enough to be cute, nor tall enough to be willowy. Although she was flat chested, she was the next closet thing. Her eyes were neither a warm brown nor a sparkling blue, but a nondescript gray. Her mouth was too wide, her chin too stubborn... She concentrated on being grateful for the more important gifts God had given her: intelligence, a quirky sense of humor, and an insatiable interest in all aspects of the human condition."
"This fierce love she felt for him wouldn't keep her from seeing him clearly, the good and the bad, his monstrous ego and too soft heart, his keen intelligence and deadly manipulative charm. Her love wouldn't let her compromise her principles either."
"Her hands were throbbing with pain. She took one last swing at him and settled back on her heels. Her chest heaved as she clutched her blouse closed. His physical aggression hadn't been about sex, it had been about power, and at the moment she hated him for it.
[...]
He pressed something cold between her hands, ice cubes wrapped in a dishtowel. ... "I never did anything like that to a woman in my life. Gracie, I'm sorry. I'd do anything in the world to take back what happened."
“I happen to be immature, undisciplined, and self-centered, pretty much a little boy in a man's body, although I'd appreciate it if you didn't quote me on that.”
“You're supposed to be my assistant, not a baby-sitter!
“One and the same.”
‘He settled his hat back into position. She was a rookie in her first big game, and he’d never let her see how close she’d come to unseating a champion’