“Looks are irrelevant. It’s the inner man that counts.”
Laughter threaded through Merritt’s voice. “I suppose you’re right. But the inner Mr. Ravenel happens to be quite beautifully packaged.”
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I’ve been in your shoes. You’re afraid, but you’re not a coward. Stand up to this. Stop running.
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West Ravenel, on the other hand, had been raised with few constraints, with the result that he spoke and acted more freely than another man of his class would. He was a full-blooded, unpredictable male: part hero, part scoundrel.
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“Every time she enters the room, we can all hear your heart beating.”
West felt his color heighten. “Bugger off.”
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“Mr. Ravenel—”
“Brace yourself.”
Phoebe’s jaw slackened in astonishment. He had to be teasing. He couldn’t be serious . . . could he?
There was a gleam of laughter in his eyes as he saw her expression. But then one of his arms slid securely around her back. Oh, God, he meant it; he was really going to kiss her. A rush of confusion and excitement made her dizzy.
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Belonging nowhere was almost like belonging everywhere.