Well, I'll tell ye, Sassenach, 'graceful' is possibly not the first word that springs to mind at the thought of you." He slipped an arm behind me, one hand large and warm around my silk-clad shoulder. "But I talk to you as I talk to my own soul," he said, turning me to face him. He reached up and cupped my cheek, fingers light on my temple. "And, Sassenach," he whispered, "your face is my heart.
( Diana Gabaldon )
[ Dragonfly in Amber ]
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