How to use He-d in a sentence
He jumped up, as if he'd seen a ghost.
Maybe he'd rather listen than talk.
While she was outside having a pity party, he was trying to figure out what he'd done wrong.
Cade looked as if he'd been slapped.
Well, Bordeaux was just the man to help her forget it - if he'd only dedicate his attentions to Darcie.Advertisement
I can imagine how he'd react.
If he couldn't get in the shed, he'd probably find some other place to stay warm.
Not that he'd been out much lately.
Sure, he'd had some rough times, but she had never done anything to make him think she would be unfaithful.
Once. That's what I was afraid he'd remember.Advertisement
Or do you think he'd consider it part of his job to watch me?
She stumbled up the dune behind him and stopped when he held out a hand.
If he'd knocked me up I'd have got an abortion.
He leaned his head back and smiled up at her.
He held a hand up to her and then guided her down to his lap.Advertisement
He shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck.
He was sitting in his chair, everything from the top of his head to his thighs covered with the newspaper he was holding out to read.
Maybe he wondered - maybe he knew - if his father had ever held him as he held his offspring right now.
He reached the passenger side of the car and held the door open for her.
He walked around to the driver's side, ducking his head as he folded his long frame into the car.Advertisement
He released her hand, but his eyes still held hers in a hypnotic trance that made her think of Dracula.
Using her momentum, he swung her over his head.
His hands gently pulled her head back and before she comprehended his intent, he kissed her lips.
He jerked his head around and stared at her.
He shook his head in defeat and opened the door for her, bowing deeply.Advertisement
He shook his head in surrender, and his voice softened.
He glanced at her and shook his head.
He sighed and rubbed his head as though the whole idea gave him a headache.
He tipped his head to the side.
He laughed and held her above his head, his expression once again, pure adoration.
He never looked directly at her, but the way he held back branches was indication enough that he knew she was there and was thinking of her.
He held the phone out to Lisa.
He held her chair as she took a seat and then sat quietly as Mrs. Marsh said grace.
He didn't even look at her when he shook his head.
When he finally lifted his head and spoke to Adrienne, his voice was devoid of any emotion.
He was reputed to have kept a cool head during battle and wasn't easily intimidated.
He accepted the tin of flapjacks she offered and jerked his head toward her wagon.
He held her without speaking, probably sensing there was little he could say to make her feel better.
He pushed the hat back on his head and gazed up at her with troubled eyes.
When she still didn't respond, he shook his head.
Slowly he lowered his head to hers and his lips found hers - warm and questioning.
He ran a hand through his hair and clamped his hat on his head.
Finally he mounted and held a hand down to Cassie.
She turned her head so that he would not see the tears burning her eyes.
Bordeaux shook his head as he stepped down from the buggy.
It was hard to tell whether the sarcasm had gone over his head or he simply wasn't amused.
She watched him head for the barn and wondered how he could stand being out in the cold all day.
He turned his horse and started through the herd.
He shook his head soberly.
He lifted a hand and shook his head.
He shook his head and ran his fingers along the rich top of the piano.
His expression was openly compassionate as he reached out, drawing her into his arms and guiding her head to his shoulder.
In his hand he held a bowl of ice cream, and his eyes held a welcome spark of humor.
She stretched out on the couch beside him; resting her head on his chest and he draped the blanket across her shoulders, his arm falling loosely on her waist.
He turned his head and kissed her fingers.
Again he bent his head and his lips questioned hers gently at first, and then with more emotion when she responded.
Again he stroked her cheek and bent his head.
And then he moved over her, his fingers sliding up her arm as it lay beside her head.
After all, she had made the first move, turning her head as he kissed her cheek.
After all, if she hadn't turned her head when he kissed her on the cheek, maybe things wouldn't have turned out the same way.
He opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again, shaking his head.
He stared at her with a perplexed expression and finally shook his head.
He pulled his hands from behind his back and held them out to her.
He lifted his head and met her gaze.
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.
He lifted the apron over her head.
He rolled his eyes and hit the side of his head with the heel of his hand.
He shook his head in disbelief.
For a moment he held Zach, body in one hand and head cradled in the other.
Howie doesn't have to work but he still suffers from head trauma, is pretty depressed and frankly, doesn't know what to do with himself.
He nodded his head and asked how long he slept.
He held a phone to his ear.
Quinn could poke around with his experiments on his own time as he'd done all summer.
He recognized the grandson as the victim of the earlier abduction on which he'd reported.
This Cooms guy said he'd fix us up any place we wanted, didn't he?
When I noticed his flashing lights behind me, I nearly raced away but he'd have caught me.
I mentioned finding the old name of Willard Humphries and asked if Brennan could check if he'd been released.
He reiterated he'd made no move to learn of our location or names.
The driver struck his passenger repeatedly on the side of her head with his free hand as he drove deeper into the wood.
Previously, he'd carefully planned his abductions and never came close to getting caught.
Brennan thanked us for the name and said he'd try to run down his whereabouts.
It was the city of his seminary training in an attempt to resurrect his past he'd visited.
He was so incensed; he'd try as many times as it took.
In fact, he's gone missing, Quinn held a super market tabloid as we shared coffee before starting our day.
Betsy asked after once more, he'd left early.
He may have harbored suspicions but he'd closeted his curiosity.
Howie remained obsessed that he'd failed to nail the culprit and when he heard of this later case, he begged Quinn to take enough time away from his wife and new daughter for a single session.
Just before Howie was ready to give up, he was startled by a figure he'd not heard enter the house!
None the less, we were elated at the detail he'd gathered.
Well, he'd be in for a shock if we posted it.
Besides, if he was imprisoned for a crime like these murders, he'd still be rotting behind bars.
True to his word, he'd rather not know any answers than lie to inquisitors.
I don't suppose he'd agree.
He stood there, trying to take deep breaths, knowing he'd lost his cool.
On Monday, Howie was on time, unusual as I assumed he'd driven his guests back to Massachusetts Sunday afternoon and would wait until early morning to return.
He failed to discuss his itinerary but commented freely on how he'd enjoyed the weekend.
Quinn complained of a headache and I silently wondered if he'd over indulged the night before.
Martha continued to whisper to me she wished he'd go easier on the booze.
I guess he'd need a hospital.
Howie stammered through his side of the conversation, terminating it by saying he'd call back.
Howie would toss in towel once he learned he'd been deceived by this woman, his first love.
I looked forward to weekends when he'd come back down to Boston and we'd get together.
That was all he'd asked of us.
We would if he'd let me bracket enough times instead of quitting just because he gets tired.
Since he'd dropped into seclusion there were any number of times I could have used his council.
Lake Erie sits north of Ohio for a long stretch so to get into Canada going east; he'd enter in New York State, around Niagara Falls.
Quinn agreed and said he'd get back to me.
When I heard his voice, my heart jumped, not knowing if he'd been told by Martha of Julie's earlier treachery.
Howie's mother took a turn for the worse and he'd been advised she wouldn't make it.
While Molly looked troubled when she returned, Bumpus was just the opposite, hopping around like he'd just retrieved a ball and would win a reward.
I was afraid he'd bite the man and I'd get in big trouble.
He let go and swung the butt of the knife at my head as I fell to the floor.
It ticked me that he'd ask that question.
I congratulated him on the great work he'd done and he again thanked me for getting him together with Daniel Brennan.
He said he'd make arrangement for the room and his equipment.
I considered calling Howie and learn what he'd told the detective before I blurted out something that totally contradicted what my former partner in crime had related.
I agreed and mentioned the timing of the power shut off at Howie's house after he'd left town.
When I informed him we were terminating our operation, he said he'd have suggested it if we hadn't already done so.
He held up his hand in a stopping gesture.
I explained the situation briefly and the patrolman recognized I was the object of the call he'd just received from Jackson.
Thankfully, he'd spotted my family and given them a ride home!
He didn't get that much of a head start.
That is, if he'd even speak with me.
All I could think was once again, we were oh so close, but he'd alluded us.
I turned my head but he simply gave a wave of his hand.
Howard; that's all he'd let you call him.
My mind jingled with questions of recidivism of his souls, the operation he'd alleged to have personally endured and if others had followed suit, or, if he encouraged them to do so.
He'd forgone the trip to pick me up, afraid he'd miss a call for information on his sister's death.
Jackson must have thought I didn't hear him because he repeated what he'd said.
It looks like he'd just come out of the shower and got it from behind, with something heavy.
I wanted to remind this troubled soul of the good he'd wrought but thoughts of Betsy prevented my saying the words.
A realization he'd never touch them again didn't dispel the feeling I was prying into his world.
That was the scientist in Quinn, frustrated that within grasp he held the partnered ability with Howie to go where no one before them had ventured.
It surprised me to find he'd carted more of his research to California than I'd expected.
If so, he'd know Julie was Molly's mother.
Molly was his prime target but for some reason, he'd kept me alive.
I could tell by the look on his face, he'd had no such thought.
I was certain he'd awake at the sound but his slumber was so deep he didn't move.
I assumed he'd been called to the hospital.
I agreed to search while he'd put out an all-points bulletin on the vehicle Howie was driving.
Bianca held her breath and waited, able to feel the tension between them even with her eyes closed until he spoke again.
Now, he could deliver what he'd always promised-- a life together-- yet she didn't feel like leaping for joy like she would've a year ago.
He gripped his forearm in the same spot he'd told her Jonny had been bitten but shook his head.
He shook his head and squeezed the steering wheel until one of his fingers popped.
He hesitated, then shook his head.
An hour of sleep was the longest he'd managed in over a week, and he felt more tired than when he lay down.
Her words fueled the sense of dread he'd felt the past two weeks, since he'd lost contact with his closest friends.
He couldn't remember when he'd last had a full five hours of his own, and he knew he wasn't likely to get another break for a while.
It was a call he'd been expecting but hoping not to get.
He drained her life until she was near blackness before he flung his head back with a contented sigh.
His reminded her of a cobra about to strike, though he'd pulled the gun up to his shoulder.
He nodded his head towards the garage door.
It left him more hands-on with the western front than he'd been in hundreds of years.
From his shoulders to his chest to his flat midsection, every part of him looked as if he'd been carefully carved from stone.
He hadn't thought twice about Toni's message that he'd delivered the package from the stash house to his condo until he walked in and discovered the vamp he expected was a woman.
He hadn't paid much attention to any woman in many, many years, but couldn't help thinking her one of the most attractive he'd ever met.
He glanced out the window and realized he'd pulled in the entrance for the emergency room and morgue.
He'd never be normal, not with what he'd done.
He placed the tip of a gun to Bianca's head.
She didn't move the entire trip back to the condo, as if afraid he'd blow her head off next.
Suspecting he'd just driven Sofi's healer completely catatonic, he peeled her soaked sweater and jeans off to display matching pink underwear.
Even traumatized, she was one of the sexiest women he'd ever seen.
He really didn't want her to lose the spark of life he'd found as appealing as her body.
He held her gaze, gauging her reaction.
He could have told her he was the devil and that he now owned her soul, and she would have stayed there, wondering if he'd kiss her.
It was midnight, and he'd just finished reading Jenn's latest report.
He had her wrists pinned above her head.
She tugged at her hands, but he held her tight, enjoying the feel of her beneath him.
Bianca was warm and sweet, the kind of woman who deserved better than he'd ever have to offer.
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 was quiet for a moment, his thoughts going to the life he'd lived before the Schism.
He closed his eyes to Travel out of the condo, aware he'd snapped at her once again.
He didn't have to wonder where he'd die-- only how.
Sofi's skill relied mostly on reading the future of a specific soul by touching them, and he'd not let her within miles of a vamp since taking over her guardianship.
As a stranger to human affection, he'd never quite gotten used to her hugs.
He whipped out his phone and trotted down the stairs, typing a response to one of the many texts he'd received.
He wolfed down the sandwich Bianca made him, unable to remember the last time he'd eaten breakfast.
In a few days, he'd be dead, and food wouldn't matter.
He has to do that, or he'd be in violation of rule number one.
He touched his face again then rubbed the back of his head.
He looked up, a surprised expression crossing his face, as if he'd told her something he wasn't supposed to.
He disappeared, and she stared at the place where he'd been, wondering why he was so upset with himself.
If he'd been talking about any other man, she would have doubted his words.
I figured when he found out I ruined his life, he'd kill me anyway.
Darian, who he'd just pulled off the bottom of the ocean instead of attending his planning session to deal with the Talon issue.
At barely ten years old, he'd been too weak to fight off full-grown men, too weak to protect her.
He held out his hand.
She was fully a part of him when they touched, as if he'd been missing more than a piece of his soul all these years and just now realized it.
She'd spent the past four hundred years in college, gleefully learning more and more and working out of the lab he'd funded for her.
Any of us in the field receive it, he said and held up his iPhone.
She gave him a puzzled smile and reached out to take the phone he held out.
She stared in the space he'd occupied and looked at the phone.
He hesitated then wrapped his arms around her, resting his cheek against her head.
She stepped into his view, and he dropped his arms, throwing back his head to suck in deep breaths.
As the baby of the three, he'd always been the rock star among them.
He sensed he'd upset her, but she didn't leave, just squeezed him tighter.
His gaze strayed towards the barracks, where he'd left Bianca.
Rather, he'd done the decent thing and spared her further heartache.
Cold fury replaced the regret, and he knew he'd do anything to keep her from danger.
There was a reason he'd severed his connection to his emotions all those years ago.
Jonny wouldn't listen to his nagging sister, but he'd darned well listen to a man as terrifying as Dusty could be.
It had something to do with Bianca, with destroying where he'd started with her.
He had no control of his own powers, and he'd not yet been tested in a confrontation with the man who enslaved him.
Her phone vibrated as she trotted down the stairs, and she glanced down, smiling to see he'd texted.
He held out his hand to Talon, who plunked a gun into it.
He clutched his head and gave a small moan.
He expected these days to be his last, but he'd give the order to decimate the entire state if it meant humanity as a whole survived.
The Darian he'd known was gone.
Somehow, he'd survived and was auctioned off like an animal with several other children his age.
He couldn't lose the only other woman he'd ever cared about.
He'd sworn to Damian that he'd protect him.
Of all the coddling he'd accused Sofi and Bianca of doing, he'd been working hard to protect Darian from anything that might force him to grow into his powers.
He held up a hand, fascinated to see through it to the car parked in front of him.
He deserved it, after all the trouble he'd been, but these people didn't!
He froze at the distant voice in his head.
He pulled out his phone, texted Bianca, and waited, willing the message to make it to her in the in-between world where he'd accidentally sent her.
She hadn't been able to get through to anyone else and wondered if there was some magic trick he'd done to reach her.
She rubbed her head and glared at him, watching as he followed his father in the direction where both sky and sea darkened into blackness.
He cared for her, but she didn't think he'd ever let anything get between him and his duty.
He held out a hand.
His light was off, a sign he'd been sleeping too hard to notice someone come in.
Jonny looked apprehensive yet resigned, as if he'd known this was coming.
Several times she'd thought Dusty had the upper hand and could've killed the leering vamp, and several times, he'd stopped, once with a glance at his watch.
While he stood in Dusty's corner, she wasn't convinced he'd chosen a side.
His body shook, and he flung his head back to the sky with a hoarse shout.
He held out his hand, and she deposited a small trinket in it.
He hadn't thought himself unhappy; he'd never thought about it at all.
Long ago, before her death, when he'd had a family.
If he let himself, he'd feel that again with Bianca.
He held her, never imagining anything could feel so right despite the rain and cold.
His brothers weren't any closer than they had been, but the sound of their voices made him realize how alone he'd really felt the past two weeks.
Finally, he'd reached the top of a hill overlooking a small, familiar village that glowed with warmth.
The hair on the back of his neck had been standing for the past mile he'd walked, only he wasn't entirely certain why.
The voice he'd dreaded hearing finally spoke.
Why, then, was he starting to feel as if he'd been set up?
He held her gaze, struck by the aura of power around her.
With magic or without, he'd won every brawl he'd ever been in, and he definitely wasn't afraid to fight a girl.
He wrapped her arm around her throat as he pulled her into his body and held her there with an arm across her chest.
He wasn't sure what her gift was or what she was trying to do, but he'd never met a Natural with her unique combination of power and strength.
His panther-like physique and tattoos gave him all the appearance of a threat, and yet, he'd fended off her blows with gentleness he didn't have to show.
She'd always been grateful to him for accepting her and her gift, but he'd always refused to tell her what exactly he was and how he seemed to be able to read her mind sometimes.
Despite his cold words, he'd left a present for her on the nightstand near her bed.
Sometimes he did this after he'd hit her or screamed at her worse than usual.
He raised his head as she took a step into the room and met her gaze.
He leaned his head against the wall.
He looked the same as when he'd come for her at the orphanage.
His gaze was intent, and she suspected he'd just now reached that decision.
If the man didn't freeze down there, he'd die at the hands of her father and his strange delusion that this man wanted her dead.
She gasped, surprised he'd admit to what he'd done.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd found any woman so intriguing.
He closed his eyes, remembering a time when he'd made a similar choice.
He's the head of the vamps.
He watched her go, suspecting he'd missed more than he thought during the few months he spent with Jule in Europe.
When she returned fully dressed and armed to the teeth, he held out his hand.
The woman strained to break his grip, but he held her in place.
The room smelled familiar, and he realized he'd chosen her room.
Any hope he'd had of finding something—anything!—to use as a weapon was dashed as he looked around the sparsely decorated room.
Jule snapped off the end of the arrow in his shoulder, not about to bleed to death before he'd killed the immortal.
His shoulder didn't move as it should, and he switched the sword to his other hand, trusting his instincts to keep his head on his shoulders.
It didn't have the kind of bandages she suspected he'd need for his shoulder, so she turned several towels into thick bandages and added them to the pile.
Too weak to push it off, he let his head drop back onto the cushion behind him.
Jule rested where he'd fallen and tried to concentrate.
If he could shake his fever and take care of himself, he'd be okay alone.
When he'd finished, he swapped out the soup for the water.
She was even more afraid of what he'd say, if he thought something was wrong with her like everyone else did.
As if worn out, he rested his head against the cushions.
She didn't think he'd answer and glanced up at him.
Jule had shattered her carefully built world in a day, and he'd done it without the brutal lessons her father resorted to.
He sounded pleased, unlike the moods he'd been in lately.
She'd assumed he'd trained her in place of the son he didn't have.
He shook his head to clear it and reached across the island.
Four of the five vamps he'd chosen as bodyguards were exchanging looks of derision behind his back, and the vamp he tried to interrogate was openly ridiculing him.
Thus far, he'd listened to her, and she hoped he feared Damian enough to continue paying attention.
He sat in the chair in front of the vamp he'd fixated on.
The vamp whose neck he held had a look of horror on its face, and the air around them buzzed with magic.
It seemed too real, and he'd dwelled long on what he could remember of the conversation.
He rested his hand on her expanding stomach and his chin on her head.
He hugged her, a darker thought crossing his mind as he held her and their child close.
If he hadn't chosen to become a vamp, he'd be a very useful Guardian.
The plan he'd begun to form was finally taking shape.
He wobbled on his feet and shook his head.
She didn't know what Xander was, but he'd said one thing that struck her hard.
He tipped his head in a silent greeting.
He was tightly wrapped in black fabric, his head towards the ocean.
He held out his arm.
His golden eyes were calm, and he was dressed as if he'd just finished sparring.
He didn't tear my head off when he sought me out the first time.
Jenn watched, confused, until he lowered his head to her neck.
Jonny was only accepting the path he'd already chosen, but it was a difficult pill for her to swallow.
Realization of exactly what he'd asked for made Jule breathe out hard.
He suddenly cocked his head to the side.
His eyes lingered on her face for a moment, and then he held out his hand.
He pulsed as strongly as the two blocked men with the power he'd absorbed.
Xander crossed his arms, his head tilted in interest as he listened.
He was taller than it by a head.
Jenn bit back a retort and left, unable to shake the sense he'd told her something he didn't mean for her to know.
She held out a hand to him, and he took it.
His look was too intense for her to doubt she was among what he'd discovered.
He held out a hand, and she hugged him instead of taking it.
He held out his hand, and Yully went to him.
She ignored the hunk, hoping he'd take the hint.
He held out a bottle of red water.
Jake wiped his mouth the way he did when he'd admitted to cheating on her four years ago.
Damian waved to show he'd heard and then took the stairs two at a time to his room.
In a blink, he'd Traveled there.
The quarterly conference held four times a century with the highest ranking station commanders was coming up soon, and he had more pressing issues to resolve before it launched.
Damian knew if they had video chat, he'd see Jule rolling his eyes.
Damian grimaced, recalling the last time he'd seen the beautiful woman, his slain brother's wife.
The Guardian's muffled voice grew louder as he pulled the head off the costume.
She ducked her head and braced herself as he reached for her again.
She didn't know what he was, and she had a feeling he'd welcomed her into a world that belonged solely to him.
She was the greatest find since he'd taken over the war from his slain brother.
He hadn't held a woman in too long, and he'd never held one for the sole purpose of comforting her.
He felt it in his bones, just as he'd felt a soul-deep connection to her the moment he'd touched her.
It held breakfast for two, and he racked his mind for who the other was.
His crying and shifting distracted her from the strange world around her and made her head pulse, as if he were trying to pry his way into her unwilling mind.
He was pretending to read a book, though she suspected he'd been emplaced as her bodyguard.
There were only two men in the world he'd entrust with his life.
Something about the woman made him think of things he'd not thought about in ages.
There was a reason he banned thoughts of Darian and Claire from his mind, an instinct he'd never been able to face in all the years since Darian's death.
He held her another minute, resting his chin on her head.
Her presence alone was already prodding free memories he'd thought he'd buried.
His look was intense, much different than the warmth he'd displayed earlier that afternoon.
When he rejoined her, he'd put on a T-shirt and sandals.
Her head hurt again, this time from trying to digest what he was telling her.
The kind of creature that could do such things to other men left her no doubt he'd do the same to her if she didn't obey.
This would be the first year he'd gone into the negative in a thousand of years.
He held up the long syringe.
And he'd brought her somewhere where she could be safe.
He shifted his hand to her neck and held her in place, placing his bloodied wrist against her lips.
He didn't think he'd ever met a human or Guardian as honest as this one.
His gaze followed her until she disappeared into the house, and he shook his head.
She'd been there twice before today and only knocked once for fear he'd answer.
He reached for her, but his scarred hand passed through hers, as if all that remained of him was a ghost of the man he'd been.
His head remained shoved under a pillow, and his body relaxed, as if he were falling back asleep.
He didn't like that she was able to pull those memories free of the prison he'd sent them to.
Claire was as beautiful as the last time he'd seen her.
He held her at arm's length, forcing himself out of the cloud of desire tormenting him.
Sofia rubbed her temples but didn't move, grateful he wasn't hurting her head for once.
He shook his head despite the desire on his face.
If he made a choice, she wanted it to be the choice he'd make whether or not she was there.
A short time later, she sagged against the toilet, ignoring Pierre as he tsked and held her hair.
He held out his hand, and Dusty clasped his wrist, allowing Damian to Travel them both to Tucson Sector HQ.
At least he'd know who the traitors were by the end of the night.
A strange voice in his head spoke the word again, and he saw the woman with blue and silver eyes.
They exchanged a greeting in a foreign language that sounded like Russian before he held out his hand to her.
The words were too painful, and by the predatory stillness of the man across from her, she was terrified of what he'd do if she said it again.
Long-buried rage was bubbling upward, along with the tiny instinct he'd squashed thousands of years ago.
Claire was all that remained of his brother, and he'd loved her out of respect for a man whose death he'd never been able to accept.
Dusty's whisper brought him out of his mind, and he realized he was kneeling on the floor with his head bowed.