By Thea Devine
It’s the moment at Twelve Oaks before the picnic, when Scarlett -- in the book -- has just encountered Charles Hamilton on the staircase, and turns to see Rhett staring up her, and indignantly thinks, “he looks as if -- as if he knows what I look like without my shimmy.” (sic -- my edition).
I love that moment. I always thought it went beyond prurience, that he was not envisioning her naked, he was not thinking sex; rather he was seeing her whole, her beauty, her vanity, her greed, her flaws and phony flirtatiousness, and everything about her right there that made her “her” -- and he decided in that moment, he wanted her, that he loved her. Not just the body, but the whole person, just as she was.
Don’t we all? Want the guy who wants us just as we are? Without lists, demands, requirements must-haves. Don’t we want to say to him, “I love you,” and have him respond, as does Han Solo to Princess Leia in The Empire Strikes Back, “I know.”
Oh, be still my heart. That he knew in his deepest core that she loved him. That acknowledgement was more than him saying “I love you.” It says that he’d always known and everything he’d ever done was colored by that, in spite of the bickering, the clashes, in spite of everything.
I love that. Who wouldn’t love that? But even better -- a moment on House: you can quibble about whether House and Cuddy belong together (and I will, because I don’t think they do), but when he said to her in a recent episode, “I always want to kiss you,” -- I melted into a puddle of swoon. Always .. Are you imagining that? Always … God, I wish I’d written that line. Think what means. Always …
But then, I’m hopeless romantic. I love love. I love being in love. I think love is forever, in spite of all the recent public and humiliating break-ups in the news. I think those moments above expressed in dialogue are at the heart of romance -- and that we all yearn for that deep visceral knowledge of the other person that transcends everything but the need and desire to be together because ... because we love, and they know. Always …♥
Thea Devine is a charter member of RWA/NYC and the author of 24 steamy historical and contemporary romances and a dozen novellas. Her latest, SEX, LIES & SECRET LIVES, is an April 2010 release from Pocket/Gallery. Visit her http://www.theadevine.com/ and read below for an excerpt.
EXCERPT: SEX, LIES & SECRET LIVES
A truncated text message sharp against the screen: justine … t …
She shot wide awake like a bullet Her heart started pounding. Her twin would never use the old code unless -- She waited for more of the message to materialize. But there was only the brief and stark justine t …
Justine time … the I-need-you-help-me-get-here-yesterday-you’re the- only-one-I-trust fail-safe code. The not to be used unless death-and- apocalyptic-destruction were imminent code.
But Jill was on a modeling assignment in England. How the hell could she do anything for Jillian if she was in London?
Now she felt panicked. For Jillian to use The Code -- she had to be in some awful mess. And she had been clear: if she coded Justine, it meant she was to go to Jillian’s apartment first. In case …
There was something propped on the pile of pillows against the headboard of Jillian's bed. Justine went cold as she picked up the object.
A hotel key holder with a picture of Jilly on the front, her curves barely covered in black satin, and the words:
Impeccable and incomparable
Discreet and discriminating
Subtle, skilled, sophisticated, seductive …
And on the reverse side, on black satin: if you dare …
Okay, I’m going to die …
She got Jillian's laptop from the safe and powered it up. A file booted up. With her name on it. This wasn’t need to know, was it?
She clicked and a densely written letter appeared on the screen.
Oh God. This was no time for true confessions.
Justine. This is the time for plain speaking … If you’re reading this, I’m in trouble. I have to tell you the truth: I’m not a model. I’m an exclusive traveling companion to wealthy men. I don’t know now if something I know is the reason why I coded you. You’re the only one who can help me. Find me, wherever I am-- whatever you have to do.
I don’t know what to do.
Step into Jillian’s stilettos? Be Jillian, with all that implied.
Walk the minefield of Jillian‘s life -- even to having sex with her clients? … Sacrifice that much for Jillian in order to save her?
Find me. Help me. WHATEVER you have to do.
GIVEAWAY! Leave a comment on this post and you may win two – yes, two! -- of Thea’s erotic contemporaries: HIS LITTLE BLACK BOOK and BAD AS SHE WANTS TO BE. Good luck.