She pulled her hand back, her face growing warmer.
Carmen felt her face growing warm.
He was growing up and she needed to keep that in mind - and some things off his mind.
Carmen shrugged, her face growing warm.
Their relationship was growing, but finding a place to cuddle was nearly impossible.
Mrs. Marsh burst into a fresh bout of tears, and Brandon put an arm around her, his own eyes growing misty.
You're growing into quite the young lady.
She shrugged, her face growing warm.
His mother pushed him off on us because he stayed up here in New Hampshire because he stayed here a couple of summers growing and she thought visiting might jar something loose.
Why wouldn't you want to see yourself growing up, what your childhood was like?
I thought about asking Martha; she was around some when I was growing up.
Yes, Ethel confesses to appointment as the tipster's public representative and seems to be accepted as sorts, in the eyes of her growing public of readers.
I was growing to love this town, with its simple history, proud of its old homes and field stone fences, telling the world it was a place worth staying.
Her alarm growing, she crossed her arms and climbed the stairs to the kitchen area.
Jenn's voice was hushed, her gaze growing penetrating.
If anything, the nagging feeling was growing stronger.
I can't help feeling bad for him, Darian said, his gaze growing dark and distant.
Her features had gone from drawn and pale to glowing, the result of his return from Europe after an extended absence and the child growing in her womb.
Jule looked again towards the garage, growing concerned he hadn't heard a car or garage door motor yet.
Jule looked down at the arrow protruding from his shoulder, growing annoyed with her for the first time.
His energies flexed, the hum between them growing stronger.
The early December sun couldn't set fast enough to prevent her pounding headache from growing worse on her drive to work.
"At least it's just IT," Jule responded, growing serious.
The distant sky showed signs of growing lighter.
The scene played over and over in her thoughts, growing stronger until he was as vivid during daylight as he had been at night.
Our European front has been growing progressively weaker the past hundred years.
The growing night chill had driven Linda into Lon's arms, and she relaxed near the fire.
The vamp's memories were fading fast and growing blurry.
Deidre kept her thoughts to herself, growing more distressed with the visit.
Her English vocabulary was growing a word at a time—mostly terms like dust, vacuum, linens, dishes and other domestic terminologies.
They gazed at one another, the tension growing thicker.
Women's fuss! muttered Alpatych to himself and started on his journey, looking round at the fields of yellow rye and the still- green, thickly growing oats, and at other quite black fields just being plowed a second time.
In the midst of his explanation shouts were heard from the army, growing more incoherent and more diffused, mingling with music and songs and coming from the field where the review was held.
"And the French shall too, believe me," he went on, growing warmer and beating his chest, "I'll make them eat horseflesh!"
From the fleches they rode still farther to the left, along a road winding through a thick, low-growing birch wood.
It was growing light, the sky was clearing, only a single cloud lay in the east.
The booming cannonade and the fusillade of musketry were growing more intense over the whole field, especially to the left where Bagration's fleches were, but where Pierre was the smoke of the firing made it almost impossible to distinguish anything.
As the flames of the fire hidden within come more and more vividly and rapidly from an approaching thundercloud, so, as if in opposition to what was taking place, the lightning of hidden fire growing more and more intense glowed in the faces of these men.
I command it... shouted Rostopchin, suddenly growing pale like Vereshchagin.
The lunatic's solemn, gloomy face was thin and yellow, with its beard growing in uneven tufts.
The caleche flew over the ground as fast as the horses could draw it, but for a long time Count Rostopchin still heard the insane despairing screams growing fainter in the distance, while his eyes saw nothing but the astonished, frightened, bloodstained face of "the traitor" in the fur-lined coat.
Natasha did not move, though her little bare foot, thrust out from under the quilt, was growing cold on the bare floor.