Kady Cross Quotes

What would I do without you to give me clarity?"
"I imagine you'd suffocate yourself by shoving your head too far up your own backside.

Just smashing for a girl's confidence, that was. Nothing like having a bloke's attention wander when you were doing your best to divert him.

If the city of London was a body, Whitechapel would be the groin; a great unwashed area that only showed itself under the cover of darkness, and only for the most salacious of entertainments. No one of "proper" birth ever admitted to going there, but they all did at one time or another - or at least they wanted to. Slumming was very popular these days.

She refused to leave your side all bloody night", Sam remarked, with something that sounded like respect.
"She's a good friend," Griffin replied.
His old friend stared at him in amused disgust. "Griff, I'm your friend and even I wasn't about to sit here and watch you heal."
Griffin looked away, annoyed by the sudden heat in his cheeks. "Yes, well, she was a much prettier sight to wake up to than your ugly head."
"I'll have you know I've been told my eyes are like a night sky," came the mock-indignant reply.

I'm not going to be a distraction for you, or allow you to be one for me."

"A distraction?" He folded his arms across his chest. "Is that what you think you are? What I am? Bloody hell, woman. I need something to distract me from you!

Finely blinked, "Griffin?"
"That's my girl." He murmured in a low tone, so no one but her could hear. Then, as the crowd drew too close, he swept her away,

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Don't cry, Treasure. You'll get me all wet and then I'll melt. I'm made of sugar, don't you know.

Call me Jack, darling. All the pretty girls call me Jack."
Finley rolled her eyes.
Emily grinned at him, bright eyes sparkling. "No doubt they call you many things, some of which they might even repeat in polite company."
"You come here to talk or flirt?" Sam demanded.
Jack smiled. "Unlike you, mate, I'm able to do two fings at once.

Miss her a little? God, was she daft? He was going to miss her more than a little. No, he wasn't. He leaped to his feet and practically ran to the door. He wasn't going to miss her at all. He was going to find her and bring her home.

Don't you dare die. You have to live so I can curse you up and down for scaring me like this

Finely dropped her head, squeezed her eyes shut and began silently to do what some might call praying, she called it begging.

You aligned yourself with the wron fella and there were consequences. Now you can wallow in it, or you can pull that thick head of yours out of your posterior and help us figure out how to fix things.

Slowly, Finley rose from the sofa, tilted her head back and looked him dead in the eye. "I have no desire to be any more in your debt than I already am."
He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Would it make you more comfortable if I demanded something in return? Would that put you at ease?"
When he put it like that, it made her sound like an awful sort of person for thinking the worst. "It would, yes. At least that would be honest."
It might have been laughter that came scoffing from his throat, but there was little humor in it. He shook his head, the light reflecting glints of russet in his hair. "I'd like to meet whomever it was who made you so distrusting and pull his teeth out one by one."
The vehemence in his tone startled her, yet was strangely warming. "'Twas more than just one."
His face darkened, like clouds overtaking the sun. Suddenly, this was no longer just some seemingly kind, bored aristocrat standing before her, but a young man capable of many dangerous things.

He's rich, handsome and dangerous. You like that."
She smiled at the uncharacteristic lack of self-confidence in his tone. "My dear duke. You are rich, handsome and dangerous."
His lips lifted on one side. "I would never describe myself as dangerous."
"Could you maybe stop talking? I'd like to kiss you but your lips won't stay still."
Eyes twinkling, he pressed his lips shut. Finley smiled and guided his head down to hers.

As they walked, the subtle lamplight of a dirigible washed over them. Finley glanced up, watching the light grow closer, slowly descending from the sky in a whirl of propellers as the ship made its way into the London air dock just a few miles away. How amazing it must be to float so high, to travel so quickly.
Dandy followed her gaze, but they didn't stop walking. "I was up in one of them flyers once," he told her. "I climbed over the rail and hung on to one of the ropes. Freeing it was. I almost let go."
She whipped her head around to gape at him. "The fall would kill you."
He smiled ever so slightly. "Not afore I flew. Worse ways to go.

Suddenly he was in the doorway, looming over her in a determined fashion. Gone was sweet, patient Griffin. This was the Duke of Greythorne, one of the most powerful men in England.
"I don't care that you came to Dandy," he said, his voice low, but sharp. "If you want to blame yourself for Sam's injury, then go ahead and be a fool. And I don't care that you could cosh my head in if you wanted. I came here to get you and if I have to, I'll toss you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carry you all the way to Mayfair. I'm taking you home where you belong.

Brushing dirt from his coat, Sam ignored the wild-eyed looks the other three gave him. Surely a house like this had enough staff to clean up a little dirt?
"And who is this young man?" the old lady demanded.
Sam opened his mouth to reply, but froze when he saw just who the old woman was.
"May I present Sam Morgan, Your Highness," Griffin said.
Bloody hell. It was Queen Victoria. They'd just burrowed their way into Buckingham Palace.

And then Finley seized the spindly metal arm attached to her throat. A normal human would have no hope against such strength, but Finley was not normal. She snapped the arm at the elbow joint and then ripped the offending hand from her neck.
Holding the arm by the hand and wrist, she used it to beat the automaton ...

It would take little effort for her to hurt him right now. She could hurt him badly.
But Griffin King could hurt her, as well, and he hadn't. Instead of using force or violence against her, he used patience and understanding. She had no defense against that.
When he let her go, she was shaking. Tears filled her eyes as she turned to her mother who stood staring at her in horror.
"My sweet little girl," her mother whispered. "I didn't know. I would never ... " Her words faded into a choked sob. Finley crossed the short distance between them on quivering legs and wrapped her arms around the shorter woman. She didn't care if Griffin or his nasty aunt saw her tears. If anything was worth crying over, the discovery that her father had made her a monster had to be one.

Guilt was not a good look for him - it gave one unsightly lines. And now he felt bad for being rude to the housekeeper, as well. Damnation. He was going to have to cheat at cards and seduce a married woman just to get his equilibrium back.

She didn't want to believe the pretty gentleman capable of such violence, but she had learned the hard way that pretty gentlemen were often the worst of the lot.

The older woman smiled. 'You're a good girl, my dear. Just what His Grace needs - someone to take him in hand.' Finley didn't think that meant quite what came to mind.

Why is it I only get to see you with your shirt off when you're hurt?

Who do you think keeps this country safe so you can sleep at night?"
"I don't sleep most nights. And to be honest, Your Grace, I don't feel all that safe.

Spending all this time fretting and fawning over a bloke just wasn't her. If this was what infatuation did to a girl she'd take herself off to a convent in the morning.

Jasper waited until the man was gone before asking, "You ever get tired of folks puckerin' up to your backside?"
Griffin faced him with mock gravity. "Yes. It is deuced tiring, people doing whatever I wish. Makes my life so very disagreeable.

Learn from it and then let it go. Dwelling never helped anyone.

There were moments in a person's life that they would carry with them until their dying day, and Finely knew the moment Jasper's heart broke would be one of those for her.

Even though he knew what she could do, he wasn't the lest bit afraid. It made her wonder what kind of monster lived inside of him.

Blokes are different from girls," Sam informed her - still scowling. "We don't need to talk about every little thing. You don't hear me whining when I break a nail."
Finley's own brows pulled together. "Do you ever think before you open your mouth?"
"Did I offend your delicate sensibilities?" Sam asked sweetly.

It was at that moment, that even though she'd thought it before, Finley realized that Emily was a bloody genius.

I thought you lot brought a buildin' down on 'is 'ead."
"We did," Sam replied before she could. "I don't think it took.

...you shouldn't have put yourself in that kind of danger for me."
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye - she knew this because she was doing the same to him. "If not for you, then for whom?" he asked softly.

Don't mistake me, Treasure. I can offer you many things, but friendship ain't one of them. Now, for once in your life, be a sensible girl and run away.

Dandy?" Sam was full-on scowling now. "What the hell does that scoundrel want?"
Finley returned his dark expression with one of her own. "You shouldn't use words you can't spell, mutton head.

You don't look so special"
"You're looking in the wrong place," he replied with a hint of a smile. "Look into my eyes.

Griffin!" Finley cried. She moved to attack the automaton, but Sam stopped her. "Wait. Griff's got a plan."
"How do you know?" she demanded.
Sam and Jasper both looked at her with bemused expressions. "Griff's always got a plan," Jasper informed her, as though it was absolute fact.

He doesn't lie so much as wrap the truth in temptation.

Sam seemed to have this old-fashioned notion that women needed to be protected. Some of the most devious people Griff had ever encountered had been female. He didn't share the sentiment.

Griff. I bet he's never met a gal like you before."
"I should hope not," she replied glibly, but heat filled her cheeks. "Nature couldn't possibly make two mistakes like me."
"You're not a mistake. Don't you ever think of yourself that way. You're exactly as you ought to be.

Tesla might not have invented a machine for going back in time, but Griffin thought he'd just found a way to stop it.

You think I pretend weakness?"
She nodded. "Not weakness, but you like to let others think they're in control, when it's you.

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Finley's head jerked up. Griffin King. The Duke of Greythorne. She had overheard Lady Alyss discussing him with several of her friends just last week. They said he was handsome, rich beyond understanding and had a nice bottom.

I cannot tell my heart what to feel.

Thank you," she said, tears leaking out of her eyes. "Thank you so much."
A gentle and hesitant hand came down on her back. "Don't cry, Treasure. You'll get me all wet and then I'll melt. I'm made of sugar, don't you know."
(Jack Dandy And Finley)

You want a torch or a candle, maybe? You've got your head so far up your own arse, it must be dark in there. -Sam

You're not going to take advantage of me, are you?" The cushions felt so nice behind her head. It was so nice to lie down. "Novels are always warning young women of the dangers of being taken advantage of by wealthy young men."
"You are perfectly safe. Emily is here to protect your virtue."
"That's too bad.

Your face is burning so bright, I'm afraid for the draperies. Are you all right?"
Fortunately, no one ever died of embarrassment. "Must be the sun. I always end up looking like a tomato."
"Right," her friends drawled. "Because the sun is so very hot through those thick rain clouds."
"Oh, shut up!" Emily laughed despite herself. "I'm blushing and I've not intention of explaining why.

Finley hesitated. Maybe he'd move out of her way and let her pass.
Or a voice in her head whispered - her voice - you could kick his teeth in.

What are you?" Lady Marsden asked, not bothering to hide her surprise. Obviously the lady was not accustomed to being caught snooping, let alone shut down twice.
"I have no idea,

I can't promise that I'll never be an ass, or that I'll never make you cry. I can't promise that I won't make you so angry you want to cosh me over the head with a brick. I can't promise you forever ... I'd love to, but I can give you right now. I can give you me in all my defective glory.

This is delicious," she said, when she finally recovered enough to speak.
Jack was watching her in a curious manner. "You could have 'em every morning if you want.

It was almost romantic, in a mad-inventor sort of way.

I reckon that's the one thing you and I have in common - we both care about Em."
She gave him a small smile. "And we both have naturally charming dispositions."
His lips curved a little at her sarcasm. "That, too.

Emily's ginger brows were knit tight, the edges of each almost meeting over the bridge of her pert nose. You know I will, you daft baggage. As if we have any other option.

Bloody stars, if this was what it was going to be like having both halves of herself merged into one, she wasn't so certain she wanted to do it. Before evrething was morally black or white, and now if was becoming alarmingly gray.

When he moved to take another sandwich, she pushed the plate just out of his reach. "Talk first. Eat later, Jack."
His gaze narrowed, but there was a twinkled in his eye. "You've become cruel, Treasure. An 'eartless minx what delights in denyin' a man 'is proper tea. A little suspense is good for the digestion.

How had he survived? And then he looked deep into her eyes and he saw the truth there. He hadn't.
He hadn't survived.

Griffin had to get to the bottom of these automaton attacks. He couldn't ignore them just because Finley Jayne posed such an intriguing problem in such a pretty package.
And she was pretty - even when off her rocker. In that respect, she was every bit as dangerous as Aunt Cordelia seemed to think.
It was a good thing, then, that he enjoyed a little danger now and again.

He's so handsome," Phoebe commented just as Finley directed her attention at her.
"Who?" she demanded.
"The Duke of Greythorne," came the reply. "He just left."
She glanced out the window, but all she saw was a tall gentleman with reddish-brown hair and wearing very fashionable clothing as he walked away from her. "Well, he has a tolerable back," she commented drily.
Pheobe snickered. "Looking at his backside are you, Finley?

Not everyone sees the goof in people like you do Emmy" Sam said
"She even sees the good in you

Coming back for more, eh?" Felix grinned at her. "I like a little fight in my girls." She grinned at him, causing blood to dribble down her chin. "Then you're going to love me.