Face Sentence Examples
She made a face at him.
She turned her face away from him.
His face was still pale.
His gaze wandered over her face, coming back to her eyes.
We all know the stories of people who win the lottery—and let's face it, far too often no good comes of it.
Her face was burning.
Her gaze left his face as she considered the idea.
His face was white, but very homely.
Carmen looked up at his face and found it as stern as his voice.
Her face became sad.
AdvertisementShe stared up at his face, but he ignored her.
His face is white, and he seems very weak.
Her face flushed, and when her mother attempted to take the bag from her, she grew very angry.
His attitude toward her did an about face so obvious that even Jonathan noticed.
Her face flamed as she thought of how it must have looked to Morino.
AdvertisementHis solemn gaze roved over her face.
She felt my face and dress and my bag, which she took out of my hand and tried to open.
Her face is hard to describe.
The calf licked good boy's face with long rough tongue.
A flush crawled up his neck, across his face and hid behind flashing dark eyes.
AdvertisementHe was not a very large man, but was well formed and had a beautiful face--calm and serene as the face of a fine portrait.
His face looked pale and he rode with an alien stiffness.
His face was flushed and his eyes were bright.
He covered his face and wept.
There, too, after a fit of temper, I went to find comfort and to hide my hot face in the cool leaves and grass.
AdvertisementShe stopped and gazed up at his face.
She slapped his face.
Instead she accepted the entire package at face value.
He studied her face.
He pulled away from her, propping up on an elbow as he studied her face.
Her dark hair was pulled back severely from a narrow face.
She leaned back and looked up at his face.
Color stained his neck and spewed up into his face.
His concerned gaze ran over her face.
The blood drained from her face and goose bumps covered her arms under the sweater.
She turned her face away, twisting free of his arms.
I said as I cleaned my face and staggered to my feet.
She turned to face him, surprised to find the man who'd almost killed her earlier.
She gazed at him, lips parted and face flushed.
He smoothed her hair from her face with a gloved hand.
She is sitting by me as I write, her face serene and happy, crocheting a long red chain of Scotch wool.
She smiled, hid her face in her handkerchief, and remained with it hidden for awhile; then looking up and seeing Pierre she again began to laugh.
She hesitated as his troubled gaze ran over her face.
Finally she looked up at his face.
When I returned to my office, Betsy met me, a frown on her face.
Betsy pivoted around, wipeing her face, and hugged her.
He was wearing a shirt and his unfastened necktie was hanging in my face.
I tried to say more but she put her finger to my lips as she wiped her face.
A stocky man with a baseball cap visor obscuring most of his face carried Molly in his arms.
It was then I came to realize he killed in the dark, not face to face with his victim.
I could tell by the look on his face, he'd had no such thought.
His face didn't look rubbery like a Halloween mask, but he didn't look normal.
He had Papaw's face, with wrinkles around his eyes and a kind smile.
The pale, dark-haired youth was drenched, but it was the wild look on his face that made her stop in the middle of the foyer and watch him pace with agitated energy.
She didn't see her brother's bleached hair and familiar face anywhere in the crowd.
He rubbed his face and crossed to the bathroom.
The man was in his prime with silver hair and dark eyes, a handsome face, and a body as muscular as Talon's.
She landed on a topless bottle of oil and spit the fluid out as it sprayed across her face.
Tears wetted her face as men in what looked like black tactical SWAT gear entered the garage.
The only skin not covered was his face and part of his neck, both of which were channeled and knotted by scars.
With a deep breath, she opened the door, uncertain what horror she'd face next.
His cheekbones were high, his chiseled face matching the chiseled body.
She felt his cold gaze and didn't face him, cringing instead.
He tucked the phone away and met her gaze, watching the emotions that crossed her face.
Jonny sensed him as well and looked up, confusion and fear crossing his face.
The young man's face paled even more, until he was as white as his bleached hair.
Her cheek was red as if she'd been struck, and there were tears on her face already.
He smoothed her hair from her face and rested his hand against the soft skin of her exposed thigh, admiring her body.
There were tears on her face, and her breathing was shallow and ragged.
She wiped her face and returned to her side.
When he didn't, she rubbed her face, wondering what exactly she'd been dragged into and if her heart would explode if he reappeared.
He rubbed his face.
She smelled of her own musk, strands of hair escaping her braid to tickle his face.
Her eyes sparkled again, her face glowing.
He hadn't thought it as harsh as it was, just like he thought nothing of killing anything in his path, but seeing the look on a normal human's face reminded him he'd been close to losing what humanity he possessed for quite a while.
He peeled off a glove to display a hand as scarred as his face.
She scooted forward and placed her hands on either side of his face.
He touched his face, tumultuous emotions crossing his face.
She looked up at him, touched, as he felt his face again.
He looked up, a surprised expression crossing his face, as if he'd told her something he wasn't supposed to.
Both breathed hard, and she noticed a red slash across Darian's face.
He sat on the floor, hands covering his face, while Dusty stood.
She looked away fast for fear of the sizzling blue gaze and dropped to her knees in front of Darian, pulling his hands from his face to see the wound.
They both tiptoed around the sexual attraction between them, and her face was flushed again.
The man's face was red with shame this time.
A look of anguish crossed Jonny's face.
His last words were whispered, his face red.
Jonny wiped his face.
Tears spilled down his face.
Anger and terror were on his face.
His anger faltered, and sorrow filled his face.
His eyes were wiser, his face firmer with few signs of the troubled youth she remembered.
Startled, Bianca turned to face the doorway, recognizing the petite blonde woman who saved her from Dusty's bullet in Talon's garage.
He gathered her warm body in his arms and smoothed away the curls that clung to his face, breathing her deep scent before he dropped into the first peaceful slumber in ages.
His face was excited as he held out the contents of his hands.
He touched her automatically, stroking the side of her face and tucking errant curls behind her ear.
He took her face in his hands and drew her to him, kissing her once again.
She touched his face, then his hair, her cool power soothing him.
She placed her hands on her face and winced as Sofi vacuumed her power as Darian had.
Dusty braced himself and turned to face the grandfatherly figure with a smile and emerald eyes standing in the corner.
He'd felt funky for a while, since Bianca fixed his face.
He was normal, aside from the weird buzz at the base of his skull that'd kept him awake every night since Bianca touched his face.
Talon's flush grew darker beneath the red of exertion on his face.
It was a man too familiar to be a stranger, with beautiful purple eyes, a small frame, and a face without emotion.
He replaced his weapons and washed his face, feeling very much like this was to be his last day alive.
He turned to see the young man's face flushed this time with anger, his eyes glittering.
Dusty looked from Darian's hopeful face to Jonny's pale and sullen features.
As if noticing him for the first time, Darian stared at Bianca's brother, an odd look crossing his face.
He shouted at her, fury on his face, but his words were lost to the storm.
The creature's emerald eyes stopped sparkling, and his face grew long.
Lightning revealed Jonny's face.
Jonny's eyes were open and blank, his face pale.
His face blazed red from exertion, his eyes glowing brightly.
She brushed water from his face and traced a finger along his jaw.
His first vision was that of Bianca's wet, pale face with dark curls stuck to her cheeks.
He nodded, concerned gaze on her face.
His assassin's gaze was bright and his face healthy, a pleasant surprise.
Damian laughed, thrilled to be back with his adopted brother and to see the glow in his face.
He breathed in her familiar scent, her curls tickling his face.
Jule studied him, guessing his words to be correct by the anger on the Watcher's face.
He let a rare smile cross his face.
Her flawless face was flushed, her breathing quick.
He blocked it and the next two blows and then snatched a fist headed for his face, twisted her arm, and spun her.
By the look on her face, it wasn't the first time the Other had raised his voice at his alleged daughter.
She locked her doors and wiped rain from her face.
Her face turned hot.
Jonny looked up, uncertainty crossing his face.
He exchanged a look with her, and understanding crossed her face.
When the guardsman rose, the arrogance was gone from his face, replaced by anger.
Jule was knocked off his feet by a hard blow but got back up, beckoning to the other creature with a look of confidence out of place for his bloodied face.
His face was bloodied, and one arm was covered in blood from his shoulder wound.
He couldn't focus on the face, but he saw the glowing red eyes.
His body was on fire again, and sweat trickled down his face.
Xander's face faded in and out of focus, and his thoughts kept drifting away.
He reached for her face, and she flinched away.
Her face warmed again.
She pondered what made her decision so simple and touched her face again.
Jenn forced a smile on her face.
The vamp whose neck he held had a look of horror on its face, and the air around them buzzed with magic.
In the end, she typed a smiley face and locked her phone before changing into gym clothes and making her way to the gym.
His face was solemn.
She indicated the new bruises on her face and neck.
He broke the barrier between them and touched her face.
Jule hesitated only a moment longer before he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.
The Watcher's face reddened.
Cold wind whipped snow against her face.
A man's face, a woman in the hospital on her death bed, their children surrounding them.
It's enough to have your pedigree flung in your face by those saucy dragonettes.
The boy's face beamed with delight.
Second, in addition to facts, the web has become the face of almost all organizations of the planet.
Standing before the mirror, as I had seen others do, I anointed mine head with oil and covered my face thickly with powder.
His gaze wandered over her face.
Alex shot her a stern look and she made a face.
Gerald made a face.
Her smile was wry as she gazed up at his face.
She glanced up at his face.
She let her gaze fall sternly on Dulce's face.
She tossed the picture in his lap again and made a face.
Again she leaned back so she could see his face.
You should have seen Dad's face.
Carmen felt warmth flood her face.
Like Alex, it was impossible to guess what was going on in his mind by the expression on his face.
Alex rolled his eyes and made a face.
Her stomach contracted at his tone and the look on his face.
The smile faded from his face.
Dulce was so angry that tears were rolling down her face.
At her words, his gaze ripped from her breasts and pounced on her face.
For a moment he studied her face.
I guess that's what they mean by cutting off your nose to spite your face.
Katie made a face.
Carmen asked, and then made a face.
His gaze ran over her face searching - maybe surprised that she spoke her mind.
He was watching her, a wry smile on his face and an amused twinkle in his eyes.
Katie leaned back, a triumphant look on her face as if she had made a point.
Tonight he divided his attention between the knife and her face - no doubt waiting for her to broach the subject.
Certainly placing the family picture face down on the coffee table had done nothing to ease her pain.
At her words, his face paled.
Gazing up into his face, she smiled.
A wry smile twisted his face, but the eyes softened.
From the expression on his face, he wasn't consoled by the answer.
His head jerked up and his face flamed.
The door opened quietly and Yancey entered, his face bland as he retrieved the magazine from his chair.
Lisa stared up at him, the blood draining from her face.
When she woke again, the sun was shining on her face.
Her eyes were filled with tears and her face felt flushed.
His body was the nearest available leaning post, so she helped herself, burying her face in his chest.
His face turned pale and he pulled her close.
Yancey's face was over hers.
He studied her face intently, masking any emotion.
Her face felt hot and cold by turns and she didn't have enough saliva to swallow.
He grabbed her arm and turned her around to face him.
Opening the door, she kept her face hidden as she walked down the hallway.
His face was livid, the veins standing out on his neck.
His face turned scarlet and he looked away, running a hand through his hair.
She could feel her face getting hot.
She sank to the bed weakly and covered her face with her hands.
She raised her face to look at him and caught Sarah and Connie making a hasty exit from the room.
She had created this problem and now it was hers to face alone.
She chanced a look at his face only to discover that he was laughing.
He cupped her face in his hands and brushed her lips lightly with his own.
Charcoal gray eyes studied her critically from a face too rugged to be handsome.
The blood returned to Adrienne's face with a vengeance.
Adrienne's face was burning.
It was Adrienne's turn to make a face.
Yeah, my nose is too big and my face is full of freckles, but my hair looks great.
Her gaze shot past Adrienne and her face turned scarlet.
He made a face and then delved into his food.
An idea flashed through her brain and left a frown on her face.
His face darkened with color.
She hesitated, staring up at his face.
He made a face.
The smile slid off his face.
She stopped and glanced up at his flushed face.
I . . he stammered, his face turning red.
She glanced at his face, but it betrayed no emotion.
Brandon focused his attention on the food in his plate, his face turning a dark shade of red.
Her face flooded with warmth.
She knew her face was getting red, and Brandon wasn't exactly pale.
He stopped, his face turning darker.
Her face burned hotter.
Julia made a face.
Rachel waved a hand and made a face.
His face turned pale.
Brandon nodded, his face still pale.
Mrs. Marsh's face was white, and her eyes red and swollen, with dark circles under them.
Her voice broke and a tear slid down her face.
He took her face in both hands.
His hands gripped her shoulders and pulled her back so that he could see her face.
There was no denying the contented expression on his face.
By the smug look on her face, we surmised the letter had to include the answers that were needed.
Blood pulsed painfully in her throat, and her face grew warm.
Finally his troubled gaze lifted to her face.
His determined gaze finally shifted to her face.
The freckles stood out on his pale face.
His eyes were captivating, by far the most attractive feature in his darkly handsome face.
There was something familiar about that face, yet she was certain she had never met him before.
Cassie folded the lip of her sombrero down to protect her face from the scorching sun.
She glanced down at his averted face.
Her face felt hot when she thought of how she had spoken of him.
She peered out from under her wagon and found the smiling face of Bordeaux.
Sweat stung her eyes and she wiped her face with her sleeve.
Dampening her scarf, she closed her eyes and wiped most of the dust from her face.
It was hard to look at his face without being fascinated by the color of his eyes.
Thankful for the darkness that hid her burning face, she took a step away from him.
She pulled the scarf from her neck and wiped her face.
The firelight flickered weakly; creating shadows on his face that made his expression hard to discern.
She grabbed the handle of her whip and whirled to face him.
The look of shear fury on his face replaced her anger with fear.
Her face felt hot.
Cassie could feel the color draining from her face.
Gentle hands lifted her from the ground, and she buried her face in Bordeaux's chest, sobbing.
I took my risks when I joined this group and I'm willing to face up to my responsibilities.
Warmth deserted her face and her mouth went dry.
Cassie removed her hat and fanned her face.
He lowered the glasses and rolled over on his back, gazing up into her face.
She stared at him, her face growing warm.
She gave him a cold stare, knowing her face was getting red.
Cassie scooped sand to make a pillow and put her hat over her face.
His face was above hers, the blue eyes tender and searching.
He drew back and studied her face with hungry eyes.
She watched his face.
She forced her eyes open to find Bordeaux's face above her.
She could feel the blood drain from her face.
She pulled the pins from her hair and scrubbed it and then wiped the rivulets of water from her face.
His face darkened and his eyes flashed a warning.
Bordeaux turned her to face him.
He paused, his face turning a darker shade of red.
She knew her face was as red as his.
The girl turned to face Bordeaux.
At least he was honorable, but if the look on his face was any indication, he was regretting that offer.
Darcie dropped her hand, her face flushing.
Cassie turned her face to the window.
The look of pity on Darcie's face was more than Cassie could bear.
Cassie made a face.
Her last impression of Darcie was a smiling face.
Bordeaux shook his head, his gaze fixed on her face.
Surely he couldn't have feigned the surprise on his face.
He brushed a strand of hair from her face and stroked her cheek.
He glanced up at her; the sun darkened face with its thin lips completely devoid of emotion.
She shrugged, her face growing warm.
Cynthia's face grew warm.
Her face felt hot and cold by turns.
He glanced up sharply, his gaze searching her face.
Her face felt hot again.
He was obviously making a joke, but she would never have guessed it from the expression on his face.
Her face was hot as she pushed away from him, avoiding his gaze.
Cynthia knew her face was getting red.
She kept her face averted until the warmth left her cheeks.
He dropped his arms and turned to face her.
Her face didn't loose its warmth and she gnawed at her lower lip.
He tucked his hands in his back pockets and shuffled his feet, the color in his face deepening.
If she thought her face could get no warmer, she was unpleasantly surprised.
She glanced up at his tortured face and had to smile.
The extra color was beginning to fade from his face and he turned toward the family room.
His eyes twinkled with mirth, but he refused to let the rest of his face respond.
She knew her face was getting red.
She chanced a glance at his face, but he was contemplating the ladder.
She tossed her head to throw the curls from her face and rolled over in bed.
He reached out and brushed her hair away from her face.
She made a face and he smiled.
Cynthia fairly leaped away from Cade, her face flaming.
His face was pale and drawn as he shoved the range back into place.
He glanced up sharply, his lips thinning down and his face paling.
She swung hard and her open hand cracked against his face.
He brushed the hair back from her face and stroked her cheek gently.
She buried her face in his shoulder, hoping he wouldn't notice she was crying.
He lifted her chin with two fingers, and the expression on his face might have been amusing under different circumstances.
In her bathroom, she wiped her face with a cold rag and took a couple of aspirin.
She leaned forward to examine his face, but his expression told her nothing.
Half an hour later, her eyes swollen and her chest sore from sobbing, she turned her face up to the warm water in the shower.
Cade was standing over her, a puzzled expression on his face as he contemplated her work.
She averted her face.
He came through the door, his hands behind him and a smug look on his face.
His thumb caressed her jaw as he gazed down into her face.
He cupped her face in his hands and leaned down, brushing her lips softly with his.
She searched his face suspiciously but there was no leer in his expression.
He lifted his hat from the peg and clamped it on his head and then paused, one hand on the door while he studied her face.
Wiping her face with a cold rag, she composed herself and answered the door.
And then realization flooded her face with horror.
Cynthia dropped to the couch and held the cool rag to her face as a new wave of nausea clutched her stomach.
Cynthia removed the rag from her face and stared at her friend.
Cynthia clamped the rag to her face again.
His voice was low and she was sure no one else heard, but her face burned furiously.
She glanced up at him, her face burning again.
She gazed up into his face.
His face was a road map of emotion, traveling from puzzled, to comprehensive and then on to frustration.
Her face grew warmer.
His face softened into a smile that invaded his eyes.
Out of the corner of my eye, I was surprised to notice a strange look on Martha's face.
I refuse to face that again.
Quinn had an I-told-you-so look on his face as he made a second sandwich and opened a beer.
He twisted, turned and moved his arms constantly, a determined look painted on his face.
He rubbed his eyes and a smile broke across his face.
Betsy shared Howie's disappointment but she put on a good face.
Martha handed her the phone and I could tell by the look that quickly appeared on her face, it was not good news.
Disappointment was written in his face.
With his hands to his face, he burst into tears, shocking us.
He rubbed his face with his sleeve.
He woke abruptly, a smile blossoming on his face.
His face was a mask of fright.
The look on Betsy's shocked face was priceless.
The entire session lasted barely ten minutes before he awoke a smile on his face.
Quinn asked, his face masked in shock.
My heart was in my mouth and I saw fear on Martha's face.
As soon as the mother entered the house, he pocketed the phone, scaled the fence at a low corner, crossed to the surprised boy in a few steps, and placed a rag over his face.
I don't know how the others kept a straight face but I pulled out a handkerchief, pretending to blow my nose.
Julie maintained no Face Book or Twitter account, nor could Betsy locate her on any other social network sites.
Successes were limited for the week with one found child, accidently trapped in a locked room of an empty house and one spousal abduction, in the face of a restraining order.
She braced herself to face him nonetheless.
His face was drawn as he strode past Jenn.
She twisted to face her father.
Jule waited patiently, a smile crossing his face as he took her in.
Heat rose to her face as she stared openly.
The honey eyes were intent, his face flushed from exertion.
The doctor's eyes were the color of cold steel, his face stoic, his large form tense.
Tears streamed down her face as screams echoed in her mind.
Tears trickled down her face, tickling her ears.
Jake breathed, guilt and anger crossing his face.
He touched her face, exhausted for the first time in years.
She touched her face, her arms, her body.
She shuddered, afraid to face him after ditching him as she had before.
His face was guarded.
He touched her face, and her mouth went dry.
Damian had turned his face away and was clenching a thick knuckle between his teeth.
She sneaked a look at his face, surprised to see the warm smile there as he read through her notes.
She made a face, drooling at the thought of Damian's blood again.
He pressed her back against the couch, and she yielded, her hands touching his face, his soft hair, his neck.
Concerned, Sofia turned to face him.
He touched her face and trailed a finger down her neck, between her breasts, and rested his hand on her stomach.
He brushed stray hairs from her face and replaced his hand on her stomach.
He shook his head despite the desire on his face.
Damian demanded, lowering her to the ground and spinning her to face him.
A smile flickered across his face and turned into a laugh.
Her face flamed red.
Claire rose, the smile freezing on her face as she faced Sofia.
Her face felt warm at the look both gave her.
Dusty studied him, an odd look crossing his face.
His face softened as he looked at her.
She wiped her eyes before turning to face whatever new challenge Damian brought with him.
Damian reached across the table and touched her face, dismissing them.
He had leaned back in his seat, his face a frozen mask.
His accusation and fury were plain on his flushed face.
How many humans were dead because he lacked the strength to face his instincts?
He met Dusty's pale blue eyes and saw his pain reflected in Dusty's tight face.
Her face was streaked with tears, her eyes puffy even in sleep.
He rubbed his face, mind going to Dusty.
As she passed Rainy, she noticed the lines of worry in his face.
Sofia sat down on the bed, careful to keep the blood from her gown, and touched the woman's face, bracing herself.
The woman was hooked to a ventilator and IVs, her battered face clean and pale.
His aura of power, his command and confidence, the sense that—whatever he was—he was something humankind wasn't prepared to face.
I think I'd known for a long time and didn't want to face it.
She tried not to let it affect her but suspected by his look of satisfaction that he saw how quickly her face changed colors.
He said nothing, and she saw the look that crossed his face, as if he wasn't sure what to make of it.
Claire glanced away then back at him, taking in the resolve on his face.
Suddenly she was mewling, kneeling beside him, her hands on his thigh and her face soft and beguiling.
She hid a smile at the look on Linda's face.
Traci's hand fluttered to her stomach, and Sofia's face flamed.
I saw it in his face when he almost killed me for being anywhere near you.
He whirled and stalked toward her, his face a mask of fury.
He planted his hands on either side of her and lowered his face to her level.
Compelled to him like nothing else in the world, she touched his face with a quivering hand.
Hot desire flowed through her and was mirrored on his face.
He spent the night deep in thought, forcing himself to face the dark memories he'd tried so hard to bury.
He rubbed his face, his fingers slowing as he felt his scars.
They were thick and gruesome, creating ridges and channels in his face.
Jule bristled suddenly, the smile disappearing as his face turned predatory once again.
She jerked at his voice and twisted to face him, observing him coolly before turning away.
She touched his face.
His face was as deeply scarred as his hands.
She took his face in her hands the way she had Damian the night he wanted to destroy the world and forced him to meet her gaze.
Emotions rippled across his face.
Fire lit up half her face, and she tasted blood in her mouth.
Jule's face materialized on the screen.
Jule's face disappeared from the screen, and the pain eased.
He held Damian's ring in front of her face and then tucked it into her jeans.
Warm blood splattered her neck and face.
Dustin's face was a mottled mess of emotions.
She dropped to his side and fluttered kisses across his face.
She took his face in her hands again, forcing his attention on her.
He placed his hands on Damian's face.
He gripped her arms and turned her to face him.
He wiped the tears from her face and kissed her forehead.
Traci flung her arms around her, her fear fresh on her face.
You'll not face anyone willing to challenge you for him, ikir, I assure you, though there may be some left who might help him.
He touched his brother's face, his emotions soaring once again.
He was too angry to face her, and she was glad of it.
Dusty's conviction was on his face.
Darian's disapproving gaze mirrored Damian's, and Sofia hid her face against Damian's chest as the three men facing her gave her similar looks.
She huddled closer to Damian, unwilling to look at his face.
His face was unreadable, his gaze steady.
Her heart sang as she realized she hadn't lost him after all, her body echoing the desire on his face.
He opened his eyes and stared at her, a tortured look on his face.
She regretted alluding to it the moment the raw look of anguish crossed his face.
Tears escaped one eye and trailed down his face.
She placed her hands on his face and pulled him closer, hugging him.
She didn't miss the look of relief that crossed Pierre's face and suspected he'd been threatened with a reassignment for shooting her.
Her face was red, her eyes glittering.
White-gray fur covered a body with moth-eaten wings, a hideous face and yellowed fangs.
Deidre didn't face him, afraid of what she'd see.
She searched his face, uncertain how to take his response.
He smelled like a heady mix of male musk and something so faint and sweet, it made her want to press her face to the skin of his chest for a better smell.
As he spoke, he continued the light stroke of one thumb and trailed a finger down the side of her face and traced her jaw.
He touched her face.
Deidre took his face in her hands, hungrily trying to taste more of him as she explored his mouth with fervor.
Instead, she wrapped her arms around her knees and tucked her face in the crook of one elbow.
A cunning smile crossed his face.
Her face warmed at how desperate she'd been for a single drop of him, to feel him inside her while his fangs sank into her neck.
The predatory smile crossed his face.
Deidre faced him, face warm.
Made you face the truth before the first day was out.
Half her face was disfigured.
There were dark circles under his eyes, and his face was drawn.
The damage done to half her face caused horrible scarring that left her features lopsided and her skin knotted.
The other side of her face displayed facial features that were heavy rather than feminine, resembling her father's.
The slow smile she distrusted spread across Darkyn's face.
Deidre reached up to him and fluttered kisses across his face and neck.
Gabriel turned her to face him again.
Deidre opened her eyes and shifted her head back to see his face.
Why did you make me face Gabriel today?
Deidre pushed herself up to see his face.
Anger stirred within her at the satisfaction on his face.
She blushed, smile on her face.
Wynn wiped his face.
He forced her to face her reality from the moment she awoke with his name on her back.
Her face was warm.
She searched his hard face, unable to read him.
A familiar face appeared from the words, the golden-skinned deity she nicknamed Mr. Checkmate the first time they met at the Immortal Sanctuary.
Deidre's face flushed with heat.
She slumped against the low wall, propping up her elbows and covering her face.
Deidre touched his face with trembling fingers.
She shifted to see his face, surprised by his confession.
She took his face in her hands and traced his cheekbones and jawline with her fingers.
She wiped her face then dressed, too distracted to feel the warmth of a certain deity as he appeared.
Her face felt hot at his nonchalance.
She almost refused but something about the look on his face made her hesitate.
Selyn's smile was lopsided because of the unresponsive, scarred half of her face.
A look of pained yearning crossed the girl's face, as if she wanted badly to speak but couldn't.
She wasn't ready to face the former goddess again.
He brushed a mop of stringy hair back from his face.
The exasperation showed on Cynthia's face.
Fred could tell by the look on her face that something was wrong.
Bird Song's managerial pair tried to present a breakfast happy face over coffee cake and muffins, but their efforts continued to fall short as they waited for Martha to make an appearance.
Cynthia excused herself and retreated to the kitchen, leaving well-meaning Brandon Westlake with a what-did-I-say-wrong look on his sun beaten face.
The smile never left Maria's face.
She strode to the driver's side of the Jeep, hands on her hips, a no-nonsense look on her startlingly attractive face.
Dean muttered, immediately regretting his big mouth when he saw the look on her face.
She buried her face in her hands, sobbed and shrank down in her seat.
I could see the white face and holes where his eyes should have been.
But the smile disappeared quickly when he came face to face, not with Jake Weller, but Lieutenant Fitzgerald.
Pumpkin looked at the picture of Randy Byrne, one leg up on a boulder, an I-own-the-world smile on his young face and Jen smiling at him with a look of love.
Lied right to our face!
Cynthia barked, her face getting redder by the minute.
Just then Fred returned, a mile-wide smirk on his face, a ream of papers clutched in his hand.
Fred sorted his notes, a smug look on his face.
She turned to face him.
Nothing. I so wanted something we could toss back in Fitzgerald's face.
There was a look of resignation, not concern, on Cynthia's face as Dean shouldered his pack and Cynthia's camera equipment.
Another woman, a very tall blond, stood a few paces back, a smile on her face, watching the old man.
Lydia glanced up and down and then took Fitzgerald's face in her hands and kissed him full on the mouth—no glad-to-see-you-grandpa embrace.
Cynthia returned, a warm smile on her face as she stood in the doorway.