Handsome Man Quotes

“Flynn was leaning against the side of the house, legs crossed, an ironic smile on his face. He must have been up for a while; he had obviously taken pains to wash his face and neck and arms (at least; that was just all Rapunzel could see) and straighten his hair so it was parted dashingly to one side. She wondered, for a moment, whose comb he had borrowed, or if he had his own stashed away somewhere like his knives.
He was stupidly, ridiculously handsome.
Even with the stupid, ridiculously fake smile on his face.
Not at all the worst thing to wake up to.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“My hunger for this man left me reeling. His scent enveloped me, musk and leather and beneath it all the lingering hint of blood. He was the most dangerous temptation I couldn't resist.”
― Briar Boleyn, Court of Claws

“She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, admiring his broad shoulders, his confident stride, and prayed her lies would not take him from her.”
― Grace Hitchcock, Hearts of Gold Collection

“His eyes were light, light brown like the dark honey that came at the end of the summer when the sumac and serious bushes bloomed. His eyebrows were heavy and expressive but didn't overwhelm his face. His mouth kept pulling to one side in that smile... there was something a little fake about it, but also something a little endearing. Like he was trying very hard to be suave and mysterious. And didn't realize how obvious it was.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“Delicious shivers slid down her spine as she assessed his cool, sensual face. His eyes were the deepest shade of brown, dark like the forest floor she'd hidden on before she'd taken a chance to claim victory for her team. A hint of a cleft in his chin and full lips in a beautifully shaped mouth softened what might have otherwise been a severe expression. As his gaze raked up and down her body, her nipples tightened and she crossed her arms over her chest, silently thanking the '80s for her massive puffball sleeves.”
― Sara Desai, The Singles Table

“Then the tall, frock-coated gentleman turned to fix Lavender squarely in his gaze. Her eyes locked reciprocally. Then full shock---his face---half heaven, half ravaged! The ravaged half the shade of beets. Burnt. Scarred. Quite horrific. Deeply unsettling, this damage. Bystanders near Lavender, noting his disfigurement, pointed rudely. Several children sent out squeals of fear and repugnance, and ducked away. But Lavender held her eyes steady, captivated by the man's deep, intense expression suffused with intelligence, kindness and sorrow. Such a complex visage she'd never before witnessed, a face like a book pulled from a fire, half charred, half intact, a volume needing much study to fathom. What calamity had inflicted this damage? He hardly seemed of the world, more like he'd fallen from some distant star.”
― Jeanette Lynes, The Apothecary's Garden

“He was a dark, handsome man. The kind who just needed a shave and he'd be perfect. His chiseled jawline was covered in stubble that was almost a full beard, his eyes were gold with a dark-brown perimeter, and he had curly raven-black hair combed back from his forehead. Overall, he had a definite Mediterranean look to him.
It was Deacon Tremblay.
She didn't need the internet to verify his identity. His picture, his profile, his every feature were embedded in the minds of all American women. Probably in the minds of international women too.”
― Jaime Jo Wright, The Vanishing at Castle Moreau

“But now that I was here, standing less than two feet away from the most gorgeous man I had ever seen...
Frederick J. Fitzwilliam's appearance was all I could think about.
He looked like he was maybe in his mid-thirties, though he had the sort of long, pale, slightly angular face where it was hard to tell. And his voice wasn't the only thing with high production values. No, he also had this ridiculously thick, dark hair that fell rakishly across his forehead like he'd sprung fully formed out of a period drama where people with English accents kissed in the rain. Or like he was the hero from the last historical romance novel I'd read.
When he gave me a small, expectant smile, a dimple popped in his right cheek.”
― Jenna Levine, My Roommate Is a Vampire

“He was standing very close to her, and she felt something like an electric current running through her body as he held onto her hand. She looked up into his face; long and narrow, except for those cheekbones jutting out of it. Wide, almond-shaped eyes, as pretty as a girl's. They were a shifting, indefinable hue, the color of smoke and shadows.”
― Helen Maryles Shankman, The Color of Light

“On-screen, he was handsome in a fey kind of way, pale-skinned and wiry and high-cheekboned. But in person, with his wide mouth smiling and his eyes crinkled in laughter? He was mischievous Puck from A Midsummer Night's Dream, with hair like an autumn bonfire hanging down to his jaw and silvery green eyes. All he needed was a crown of leaves, and to be bare chested instead of wearing a holey old band T-shirt.”
― Sarah Chamberlain, The Slowest Burn

“His blue-and-green flannel shirt only had a few big wrinkles in it. I ignored how beautifully the colors contrasted with his hair, how they made his eyes look like ice.”
― Sarah Chamberlain, The Slowest Burn

“When he came back from the bathroom, I could only stare. He was exquisite naked. A Greek sculptor would have fallen over himself to capture his torso in marble. In modern terms, if there were thirst accounts for Kieran's forearms, his naked pictures would break the internet.”
― Sarah Chamberlain, The Slowest Burn