Quotes from Wild Card

“I pray. I go to mass. I even remember to respect my elders and help little old ladies across the street. What the hell did I do to deserve this?”
― Lora Leigh, quote from Wild Card

“No" she jerked back, stared up at him.
Her eyes were like thunderclouds. He'd never seen them like that. Shock and fear filled them. Her face was paper white. Her body shuddering.
"Don't you leave me!" She gripped his shirt and tried to shake him, tears falling from her eyes. "Don't you leave Noah."
His head lowered. He touched her lips with his and knew this woman held the best part of him. The memories of the husband he had been, the man he had been. He couldn't destroy that. He refuse to.
He pushed her to Jordan slowly, loath to let her go. To release her. Knowing that releasing her was the only way to save the memories she held.
"Don't you leave!" She screamed the order, eyes blazing, her lips trembling as tears fell and hysteria threatened to overwhelm her. "If you leave me, Noah Blake, if you don't come back when this is over, don't bother coming back at all.
He touched her cheek. Ran his thumb over her lips. "You are the best part of me," he whispered. "Always remember that, Sabella. The best part of me."
Before she could grab him, hold him to her, he pulled away, grabbed one of the rifles Mike had set on the table across the room. And left.”
― Lora Leigh, quote from Wild Card

“Oh, now my Erin, she'd smile down on me no matter where I walked." Grandpop smiled that little smile again. "But I'd be separated from her, and I'd feel that separation in my soul, you see?"
Nathan shook his head.
Grandpop sighed. "You have the Irish eyes, boy. One of these days, you'll see from eyes, not your own, feel with a heart outside your chest. Wild Irish eyes. Nathan. When you love, love well and love true, and take care, lad, because those Irish eyes are windows into not just your own soul, but the soul of the one you love." Grandpop looked out at his Erin's grave.
"And when you lose that heart, you can't leave the places where your memories are the best. And if I left her, I'd not be buried beside her.”
― Lora Leigh, quote from Wild Card

“Bella. "Nathan Malone is dead." He caught her shoulders, shook her.
"No!" she screamed back. And she couldn't hit him. She wanted to, and she couldn't.
"look at me," he yelled. "Look at me, Bella. What happened killed the man you loved. All that is left is this. The man you see now.The name name I carry now. Anything else is no possible."
"No!" She pulled away from him, stumbled to her feet, and shook with the rage pounding through her. "The name may be dead, but you are not dead. "You weren't just a SEAL," she cried. "You weren't just a friend, or a son, or a grandson, or a brother. You weren't just a warrior." She clenched her fists, pressed to her stomach as the agony swell up through every cell of her body. "You are my husband. My lover.
It doesn't matter if your name is Nathan, Noah, or hey fucking you, you are my my lover. My soul. My heart.”
― Lora Leigh, quote from Wild Card

“He is not coming back." And it hurt.It hurt until she was a mass of pain,worse than it had been when she thought he was dead. More all consuming. Ravaging her insides.”
― Lora Leigh, quote from Wild Card

“Before she could say anything more, Sabella swung around at the sound of Noah’s Harley purring to life behind the garage.
God. He was dressed in snug jeans and riding chaps. A snug dark T-shirt covered his upper body, conformed to it. And he was riding her way.
“Is there anything sexier than a man in riding chaps riding a Harley?” Kira asked behind her. “It makes a woman simply want to melt.”
And Sabella was melting. She watched as he pulled around the side of the garage then took the gravel road that led to the back of the house. The sound of the Harley purred closer, throbbing, building the excitement inside her.
“I think it’s time for me to leave,” Kira said with a light laugh. “Don’t bother to see me out.”
Sabella didn’t. She listened as the Harley drew into the graveled lot behind the house and moved to the back door. She opened it, stepping out on the back deck as he swung his legs over the cycle and strode toward her.
That long-legged lean walk. It made her mouth water. Made her heart throb in her throat as hunger began to race through her.
“The spa treated you well,” he announced as he paused at the bottom of the steps and stared back at her. “Feel like messing your hair up and going out this evening? We could have dinner in town. Ride around a little bit.”
She hadn’t ridden on a motorcycle since she was a teenager. She glanced at the cycle, then back to Noah.
“I’d need to change clothes.”
His gaze flickered over her short jeans skirt, her T-shirt.
“That would be a damned shame too,” he stated. “I have to say, Ms. Malone, you have some beautiful legs there.”
No one had ever been as charming as Nathan. She remembered when they were dating, how he would just show up, out of the blue, driving that monster pickup of his and grinning like a rogue when he picked her up. He’d been the epitome of a bad boy, and he had been all hers. He was still all hers.
“Bare legs and motorcycles don’t exactly go together,” she pointed out.
He nodded soberly, though his eyes had a wicked glint to them. “This is a fact, beautiful. And pretty legs like that, we wouldn’t want to risk.”
She leaned against the porch post and stared back at him. “I have a pickup, you know.” She propped one hand on her hip and stared back at him.
“Really?” Was that avarice she saw glinting in his eyes, or for just the slightest second, pure, unadulterated joy at the mention of that damned pickup?
He looked around. “I haven’t seen a pickup.”
“It’s in the garage,” she told him carelessly. “A big black monster with bench seats. Four-by-four gas-guzzling alpha-male steel and chrome.”
He grinned. He was so proud of that damned pickup.
“Where did something so little come up with a truck that big?” he teased her then.
She shrugged. “It belonged to my husband. Now, it belongs to me.” That last statement had his gaze sharpening.
“You drive it?”
“All the time,” she lied, tormenting him. “I don’t have to worry about pinging it now that my husband is gone. He didn’t like pings.”
Did he swallow tighter?
“It’s pinged then?”
She snorted. “Not hardly. Do you want to drive the monster or question me about it? Or I could change into jeans and we could ride your cycle. Which is it?”
Which was it? Noah stared back at her, barely able to contain his shock that she had kept the pickup. He knew for a fact there were times the payments on the house and garage had gone unpaid—his “death” benefits hadn’t been nearly enough—almost risking her loss of both during those first months of his “death.” Knowing she had held on to that damned truck filled him with more pleasure than he could express. Knowing she was going to let someone who wasn’t her husband drive it filled him with horror.
The contradictor feelings clashed inside him, and he promised himself he was going to spank her for this.”
― Lora Leigh, quote from Wild Card

“Oh yeah?" Nathan arched his brows. "What's better the SEALs, Uncle? Hell? Been there, still take trips.”
Noah to Jordan”
― Lora Leigh, quote from Wild Card

“Oh yeah. Baby, so good." He had to release her nipple, had to hold her face in his hands, stare into her eyes. "So damned tight. Sweet. Ride me, sweetheart. Ride me out of hell.”
Noah & Sabella”
― Lora Leigh, quote from Wild Card

“No" she jerked back, stared up at him.
Her eyes were like thunderclouds. He'd never seen them like that. Shock and fear filled them. Her face was paper white. Her body shuddering.
"Don't you leave me!" She gripped his shirt and tried to shake him, tears falling from her eyes. "Don't you leave Noah."
His head lowered. He touched her lips with his and knew this woman held the best part of him. The memories of the husband he had been, the man he had been. He couldn't destroy that. He refuse to.
He pushed her to Jordan slowly, loath to let her go. To release her. Knowing that releasing her was the only way to save the memories she held.
"Don't you leave me!" She screamed the order, eyes blazing, her lips trembling as tears fell and hysteria threatened to overwhelm her. "If you leave me, Noah Blake, if you don't come back when this is over, don't bother coming back at all.
He touched her cheek. Ran his thumb over her lips. "You are the best part of me," he whispered. "Always remember that, Sabella. The very best part of me."
Before she could grab him, hold him to her, he pulled away, grabbed one of the rifles Mike had set on the table across the room. And left.”
― Lora Leigh, Wild Card”
― Lora Leigh, quote from Wild Card

“You’re being awful generous with your late husband’s possessions,” he told her.
She grinned back at him. “You’ve loosened me up maybe? Besides, you’ve already slept with his wife, why not drive his truck? Kira drank his 1925 Chateau Feytit Clinet red wide today.”
Did he look pale? Noah swore he could feel himself blanch. His 1925 Chateau Feytit Clinet? No. She hadn’t shared that with Kira Richards. The one person in the world besides Sabella who knew exactly how horrified he’d be to hear that Sabella had dipped into his treasure trove of wines?
“He had a 1925 Feytit Clinet?” He almost wheezed. How he kept his voice calm and level he didn’t know. Hell, his training had just been shot to hell. “And you shared it with Ian Richard’s wife?”
“He had lots of wine.” She turned and shot him a look over her shoulder. “Maybe one of these nights I’ll share the other one with you. Do you want me to meet you at the garage with the pickup? It won’t take me long.”
Let her drive his pickup? Had she lost her damned mind?
“I can leave the cycle here.” He nodded to the back drive as he stepped to the porch. “I’ll just help you lock up.”
“Okay.” There was a swing to her hips that almost had his tongue hanging out of his mouth. And he almost—only almost—forgot about the wine and the truck.
She drank his wine? Drove his truck? And Rory hadn’t warned him ahead of time?”
― Lora Leigh, quote from Wild Card

“Do you speak Gaelic Noah? she suddenly asked.
His heart clenched. It actually hurt, as though spikes of steel had been dug into it.
should I?
Maybe not...”
― Lora Leigh, quote from Wild Card

“Bella. You were always my soul.”
― Lora Leigh, quote from Wild Card

“Oh my god, Bella, what have you done?”
Bella jumped as she turned to face Nathan, seeing his wild eyes, his pale features, his hard, buff body stalking across the front yard, his chest slick with sweat, bits of the grass he had been cutting sticking to his jeans as he strode furiously to where her car met the back of his truck.
“It’s just a little dent, Nathan. I promise . . .” Her heart was in her throat. Not in hear. He would never hurt her. But he sure knew how to pout when he wanted to.
“A little dent.” He gripped her shoulders, moving her aside as he stared down at the crumpled fender as it sank into the bumper of his truck.
It was an accident. It was all his fault. If he hadn’t been wearing those butt-snug jeans and boots with no shirt as he cut the lawn, it would have never happened.
“You hit my truck.” Male pride and offended dignity filled his voice. “That’s my truck, Bella.”
Yes. It was. And he was very proud of the powerful, black four-by-four he babied worse than any woman would a child. She would be jealous if it weren’t for the fact that he couldn’t actually bring it into the house.”
― Lora Leigh, quote from Wild Card

“I’m not cheating,” Sabella said, her gaze meeting Kira’s. Something inside her loosened. Something fell into place, but she was just too damned tipsy to realize what it was. “Am I?”
“Oh dear, trust me.” Kira smiled back at her. “The last thing you’re doing is cheating. You can take that one to the bank.”
Glasses clinked, refilled, and the three women sat back and proceeded to get outrageously tipsy. Well, Sabella thought several hours later as Ian walked in and stared at them in shock, maybe they were a little bit drunk.”
― Lora Leigh, quote from Wild Card

“And there, tucked in his soul, was the love he felt for Sabella since the moment he had seen her.”
― Lora Leigh, quote from Wild Card

“Oh yeah, by the way, baby. I'm your husband. You know, the one that died? The one that wouldn't come back to you for six fucking years. Yeah, she'd accept that easily enough.
Bullshit.”
― Lora Leigh, quote from Wild Card

“I was just curious.” She shoved her hands into her pockets and gave Noah what she hoped was a sweet smile. “Just tell me what he did and I’ll leave. Are you going to fire him? Can I watch?”
“Fine.” Rory didn’t look happy, that was odd enough. He looked angry at her, and he was never angry with her. And his smile. It was tight. All teeth. When had he turned into a full-grown man on her? He wasn’t a kid brother any longer. “He was staring at your ass! Now you deal with it.”
He turned and slammed out of the office, leaving her to stare at him in shock before she turned to meet Noah’s amused gaze.
“He was lying to me,” she said.
He grinned. Noah was absolutely entranced. Once again, he had to ask, though, what had happened to the Sabella he had known six years before. The one who never chipped a nail, and would have never, under any circumstances, butted into a male/male confrontation.
“You have a fine ass,” he stated, and knew she wasn’t buying it.
Her eyes narrowed. “And you’re not going to tell me what he was chewing your ass over?”
Noah had to chuckle. “It was more in the way of a warning.”
He was treading a fine line. Nathan wasn’t as dead as Noah might wish; he still had habits that had once been ingrained. One of those habits? Twirling that damned wrench as he tried to figure out a particular problem beneath the hood of a vehicle.
She sniffed at his response. “Piss him off too far and I’ll convince him to finally fire you.”
He had to grin at that one as he sauntered to the door. Before passing her, he stopped, lowered his head, and whispered, “And I caught you looking at my ass too. Maybe I should tell Rory on you.”
― Lora Leigh, quote from Wild Card

“You should have never let him in the house.” Noah stopped in front of the counter. “For God’s sake, Sabella, I thought you would know better than to confront that son of a bitch while you’re carrying my mark.”
She kept her head down. How many times had she laughed at Nathan when he had said something similar? When he had been irritated with her, or was just being a man.
She should have known better than to go four-wheeling with Sienna that first year they were married, without him, because when she wrecked, she wrenched her ankle and he hadn’t been tere to make sure she was okay. She should have known better than to try to fix a busted pipe in the basement on her own, because she’d ended up drenched and the basement had gotten wet. So many instances. And she should have always known better.
She lifted her head. “Now you can leave. You should know better than to piss off an already angry woman.”
She should have known better than to give Rory a say in the hiring.
“Sabella, sweetheart, look at me.” His voice roughened. “If he had hurt you, I would have had to kill him. I would have enjoyed killing him.”
“And it would have been my fault.” She nodded with a bitter smile. “Sure, I understand.”
“No, it would have been his fault for being stupid enough to touch you. But haven’t you figured out that yet that men aren’t always smart enough to keep their hands off things that don’t belong to them?”
Her head jerked up in surprise. “So you think I belong to you now?”
She didn’t flinch when he reached out to touch her. Over the years, she had always had to suppress a flinch when another man tried to stroke her, kiss her.
“You don’t belong to him,” he told her, his fingertip stroking over the rasp of his beard that he had left on her jaw. “Testosterone is a dangerous thing sometimes.”
― Lora Leigh, quote from Wild Card

“I’m really sorry, Nathan.” Her accent thickened as she stared up at him, biting her lip nervously as she wondered how much he would pout.
Nathan could go all quiet, somber, and answer her in monosyllables that drove her insane. He would glare at her.
He would watch ball games. He would come to bed late. Late. After she went to sleep. And wouldn’t give her any until the next morning. It really wasn’t fair.
“Nathan, please don’t be mad at me . . .”
“How did you hit my truck? How? It was sitting in plain view. Plain view, Sabella.” He was getting angry. He only said her full name when he was really getting angry or really, really horny. And he was not horny. Okay, this wasn’t good. She could do without for days. But she didn’t like it.
She stomped her foot, glaring back at him in irritation. “If it weren’t for you, I would have never hit it.”
“Me?” He stepped back, shaking his head fiercely. “How the hell was this my fault?”
“Because you were cutting the grass, with no shirt, in sexy jeans and boots, and seeing your tight ass striding across the lawn made me horny. You distracted me. It’s all your fault. If you dress properly things like this just would not happen, Nathan . . .”
He kissed her. It wasn’t a gentle, easy kiss. It was rough and ready and smack full of lust as he jerked her against him, pressing his cock into her belly as she gasped in pleasure.
“You are so spanked.” He picked her up, striding across the lawn, leaving her car door open, his truck abused. “Spanked, Sabella. I’m going to watch every inch of that pretty ass turn red.”
He slammed the door behind him, locking it quickly before heading for the stairs.
“Oh, spank me, Nathan,” she breathed teasingly into his ear. “Make me beg.”
He shuddered against her, threw her on the bed and proceeded to make her beg.”
― Lora Leigh, quote from Wild Card

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