She twisted in her chair to see a man near the dark windows whose eyes were the color of her bright purple Easter dress.
It was true, and it brought color to his neck, but he didn't comment.
Color stained his neck and spewed up into his face.
Color crawled up his neck and his gaze shifted to the coffee mug.
Color crawled up his neck as he carefully placed the fork across his plate.
Feeling the warmth of color invading her cheeks, she looked away.
To her surprise, color began to invade his dark features.
A rush of excitement sent color to her cheeks, and she tore her gaze from his, focusing her attention on the dishes.
She glanced up quickly, feeling the color deepen in her face.
Rachel noted her rising color and grinned.
She slapped her hat back on to hide the color in her cheeks and scrambled onto her wagon seat.
Bordeaux was watching her in a way that brought color to her cheeks again.
It was hard to look at his face without being fascinated by the color of his eyes.
She felt vindicated by the color that stained his dark cheeks.
He noted her rising color and shrugged.
I can tell by the color in your cheeks.
She knew the color was deepening in her cheeks.
It was his turn to color up.
It's even painted the same color and I recognize the molding and cornices.
His eyes seemed to swirl, around and around, changing from the color of her mother's tulips to a color almost as dark as the night.
The eyes of the newcomer were the color of their Christmas tree.
His room was clean to the point of anal, his color scheme black on white.
Jule drew a deep breath and faced the small, grandfatherly man with eyes the color of an Irish meadow.
His features were stoic, his beautiful purple eyes the color of spring flowers.
The gangly youth before him had dyed his hair from platinum back to its natural color of black.
His brown eyes were shadowed, his Hispanic features the color of caramel.
He was as large as the others, with olive skin, long white-blond hair, and golden eyes the unusual color of honey.
His visitor wore a T-shirt and had hair the color of last night's sunset.
The doctor's eyes were the color of cold steel, his face stoic, his large form tense.
One was of medium height and slender, an older man with sharp green eyes the color of forest moss who seemed out of place in the middle of the room.
Pink is a good color on you.
The rocking chairs were back, four in a row, red, green, yellow, and purple, adding a blaze of color against the century-old white building of Bird Song.
The color is amazing.
While Cynthia might not have "come to terms" with her quickly acquired family, she was positively thrilled to announce the wedding to all who'd listen, skirting the impending birth like a ballet dancer, concentrating on lace and promises, even if the color was off-white.
Big deal that Seymour's brochures were four-color to Dean's black and white, and the bastard wore full uniform.
It doesn't matter what color your hair is or what Darkyn did to you.