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" Then you got to the face, framed by that mane of black silk hair, and no heart could be blamed for skipping a few beats. That face, carved by some genius god on a particularly artistic day. Those eyes, so wildly blue they caught the breath. That mouth, so perfectly, romantically sculpted, curved now, for her. Maybe, just maybe, with another handful of years of marriage, seeing him unexpectedly wouldn’t simply dazzle her. "
― J.D. Robb , Faithless in Death (In Death, #52)