Can I kiss you?_ And she would let him, lightly on her lips, a moment of brief anticipation. __our kisses are like sugar woman._ He would tell her affectionately. __o sweet._ He would close in on her and then ask softly, __lease spend the night with me.

She liked his unique smell, and it turned on all five of her senses, wanting to see him naked, touch him while naked, hear him as he moaned while he made love, taste his skin, and feel his naked body as she seduced him with the trailing of hungry fingers.

This is the real Madame. I can see why she hides herself in accents and gems and exotic perfumes. I can see why she's grown to hate anything to do with love. She isn't evil or corrupt the way that Vaughn is. She's broken. Only broken.

You can__ fix who you are on your own, but God is in the business of transforming broken girls into beautiful trophies of His grace.

We are, without doubt, broken people living with other broken people in a broken world.

For the first time in forever, he was stunned to silence. Not by her words, but by the tenderness in her hands, the worry in her eyes. He was an archangel. He__ been wounded far, far worse and shrugged it off. But then, there had been no woman with sun kissed by the sunset and eyes of storm gray to tear into him for daring to get himself hurt.