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“I used to wish I'd been born a boy. I thought he might have taken an interest in me then. Or perhaps if I were prettier or cleverer." Devon cupped the side of her face, compelling her to look at him. "You're already too pretty and clever by half, darling. And it wouldn't have mattered if you were a boy. That was never the problem. Your parents were a pair of selfish lackwits." His thumb caressed her cheek. "And whatever flaws you might have, being unlovable is not one of them." During that last extraordinary sentence, the quiet volume of his voice fell to a near whisper. She stared at him, transfixed. He hadn't meant to say it, she thought. He undoubtedly regretted it. But their shared gaze remained unbroken. Looking into his dark blue eyes was like drowning, sinking into unfathomable depths from which she might never resurface.” — Lisa Kleypas