Suzanne Enoch Quotes

At times Valentine wasn't sure whether he kept Matthews about because of his supreme unctuousness or because he had half a suspicion the valet was trying to kill him.

Shh, May,' Felicity said soothingly, glancing behind her. She absolutely did not want Rafe to come out and say something stupidly noble. They were on their own - again - and they would simply have to make do.

Never interrupt a lady when she is speaking to you, as if what you have to say is more important.

What did he do?" he murmured.
"He said something about if his words didn't put me in my place, he would find something that would. And then he slapped me."
Bram abruptly regretted not making use of the knife he'd carried in his boot to the Hampton soiree. He could understand Cosgrove desiring her and wanting to control her. But to strike her... Bram was accustomed to being angry; he'd spent most of the past ten years in varying states of it. What he felt as he listened to Rosamund, though, to the shake of her words and the despair in her voice, was deeper and hotter than anything he'd ever experienced. Plainly and simply, it was fury. White-hot, blood-boiling fury.
"Hope that he enjoyed hitting you, Rosamund," he said in a low voice, "because he will never touch you again.

He was so easygoing, she forgot he could be deadly. And startling as his anger was, it gave her another key to understanding him.

Everton" (Francis)
Alex turned his head to view a rainbow peacock mask bobbing toward him. "Good Lord, Francis, you are replendent," he said admiringly.
The peacock stopped beside him. "Dash it, Everton, how'd you know it was me?"
You're still wearing your faux ruby ring.

Alex turned his head" title="Suzanne Enoch Quotes: Everton" (Francis)
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I'm going to say a word, just for your general opinion and consideration," he said, his light blue gaze touching hers.
"I'm listening."
"Marriage."
Zephyr blinked. Had he actually just suggested a proposal? A marriage? With her? A thousand thoughts all flitted through her mind, none of them making any sense, but several of them centering on whether she was reading too much or too little into one blasted word. "I think" - she stumbled, backing away from him and toward the village - "that if you mean to ask a question, you should ask it. And you shouldn't make it so stupidly ambiguous just on the chance that a negative response might embarrass you or wound your feelings."
"Is that so?" He stalked after her.
"It is so. And another thing. Before you ask such a question, consider giving me - or whoever you intend on asking - a reason to say yes.

You are a very interesting man," Rosamund stated. "And you have female friends. Actual friends. I don't think Lord Cosgrove can claim that."
He smiled, sincerely complimented. "Why thank you, my lady. So, as long as I'm here, shall we kiss again, or do you wish to proceed along the garden path a bit further?"
She backed up a step. "That's not very romantic."
It took more control than he expected to remain where he was and not pursue her. "Neither is your prospective husband. Don't expect posies. If you do receive them, they're more than likely deadly nightshade.

To his surprise and suspicion, she smiled.

There are rules," he interrupted, scowling. Before she could move, he had both her hands in his, their
faces inches apart. "Don't put me off, Phillipa. I've given you my one warning; I am after you. If you wish
me to proceed your way, I will. To a point. But if you continue throwing up that damned - blasted - 'you
can't do that' protest and still look at me with that same…passion in your eyes, I will put you back in that
phaeton and not stop driving until we reach Gretna Green. Is that clear?

It amazes me, Saint, that you can own so few redeemable qualities and still be so likable.

That explained a great many things he'd observed about Lilith Benton. No wonder she came near to throwing a blue fit every time he approached. He threatened to collapse the carefully respectablility she'd worked nonstop for six years to build. On the oter hand, he couldn't forget the way she'd responded to his kiss,, or the way she'd shivered at his light caresses. She liked being touched. She liked his touch. Jack gave a slight smile. Perhaps the angel secretly wondered what it would be like to be in the devil's embrace. The devil certainly wondered.

Please say you'll marry me, Kit, because you're breaking my heart.

I'm glad you decided to come."
"It doesn't mean anything." He grinned. "Everything means something.

If a marriage is valued at ten thousand, surely I might have a waltz for three hundred."
Her fingers clenched into very determined-looking fists. "So you know about the debt."
He nodded. "If I'd known the prize, I might have wagered a larger sum against your brother."
"I am not for sale."
Clearly he could argue with that, but from the abrupt horror in her grass green eyes, she'd realized that at the same moment she'd spoken. 'Horror.' He'd been forced into things he didn't relish by the lure of funds- or of having them cut off- but the blunt had been the reward for compliance. What was her reward? Marriage to Cosgrove?

I don't think there'll be a next time, my lady." Saint smiled. "But thank you for the offer."
Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. "You're welcome. My, my, manners. Where have you been - church?

She supposed a properly bred London lady would be expected to faint in shock at the sight of a shirtless gentleman, but he looked far too delicious for her to close her eyes.

He sighed. "You've chosen poorly, you know. When we return to England you'll be celebrated, just as I will be. If you've decided to abandon me, you might have netted someone titled, someone with enough wealth to see you esteemed and me able to continue my botanical studies. That would have been the aim of a dutiful daughter."
"I'm not abandoning you, and I chose Shaw. You're the one who declined to attend your daughter's wedding."
"You never used to speak to me like this. A dutiful child would never have accepted a proposal from the first man who asked, simply because he did ask."
"He didn't propose to me. I proposed to him."
Finally he looked more surprised than angry and frustrated. "You proposed to him?"
"Yes, because I didn't think he believed me when I said that I loved him. I can hardly blame him, since I had to think about it for an entire day after he said it to me, but I do love him. More than I can articulate to you.

Can I look at my feet now?" "No. A bird never looks at its wings while it's flying. If it did, it would realize it's doing something utterly impossible, and fall to the ground.

And even though he enjoyed being around her, he resisted her,
because he was supremely aware that he wasn't the old Robert any longer; he was Bit, a piece of what
he'd once been.

If Cosgrove means to play games, then so do I. I will marry him because I must, but I shall not be a lamb- or a cow- led to the slaughter. If he intends to destroy my spirit, he will find it a difficult task. I am not some fly whose wings he can pull off and then step on. I'm... I'm a bee, and I shall sting him back.

The animal is making quite a mess," the butler droned.
"Are you referring to the monkey, or to my nephew?" Fennington drawled, strolling into the room.
"Hm. How long did you lurk outside the room waiting forthat opportunity?" Bennett asked

Yes, it is." Bennett blew out his breath. "You can't expect me to ... sit in the morning room and chat
about the weather with her mother, and hold her yarn while she knits, and ... wait five weeks before I
attempt to hold her hand.

Lady Anne Bishop, he was coming to realize to his growing delight, was far more complex than he'd anticipated. Each moment the plans he'd worked out to win her needed to be modified and adapted as he learned something new about her.

Shaw grinned again, wishing mightily that he and she were alone by the fire. "I never claimed to be much of a gentleman. But whether you tote about a parasol or not, you are every inch a lady. Quite possibly the finest I've ever met."
"Goodness. If you continue saying such things, I'll begin to think you're smitten with me."
"I'd describe it more as being clubbed into submission," he murmured, aware both that her palm had come to rest just over his heart, and that his men and the Mayfair mob across the fire pit could see it. "But yes, I am rather smitten with you.

Ye should see my massive claymore."

"Oh, good heavens," Jane muttered from behind them.

"What now?" he asked. "A claymore's a fine weapon, long and heavy, and a wonder when ye ken how to use it correctly."

Abruptly Amelia-Rose didn't think they were talking about swords. "And you know how to use yours correctly?"

"Aye. I'm something of an artist, ye might say. I'd like to show it to ye, lass.

Even the way he was the only man she'd ever met who both could and dared to hold up his side of a conversation with her.

Gentlemanly behavior isn't just opening doors: to make an impression, you have to be concerned over a lady's needs at least as much as your own.

I had a thought," Bradshaw said into the silence.
"Amazing," Tristan returned dryly.

Yeah," Stoney muttered, "easy. Except for all the guns and the running around and the chance that somebody might try to follow you. Or that somebody might recognize you. You've been on TV, if you'll recall."
"Ah, but I thought of that," she returned, reaching into a sack beside her and pulling out a blonde wig.
"I hope that thing's bulletproof," her former fence said dourly.
She smiled at Rick. "Is it true, Mr. Addison?" she chirped, pulling on the headpiece. "Do billionaires prefer blondes?"
He snorted, reaching across the table to twist a strand of the golden blonde hair in his fingers. "You look good in any color, Yank. If being blonde will get you out of the Met safely, then yes, today I prefer blondes."
She stood, leaning over to kiss him on his sensuous mouth. "Good answer.

He lowered his head toward her, so she could feel his breath warm against
her skin, their mouths only inches apart. "You're panting for it, aren't you,
Princess?" he murmured.

You want Felicity. And you're trying to buy her.'
Deerhurst shoved him backward. 'What if I am? How is that different from you keeping a place you don't want just so you can hang about her? I've seen how you look at her.'
Rafe shoved back, hard enough to send the earl staggering against the wall. 'Don't start something you won't be conscious for at the finish.

Don't say 'Horse shite,' Amelia-Rose whispered, drawing even with him.
What should I call it, then, digested equine grass lumps?

I am a duke, you know. If I can't perform a miracle here and there I might as well be a butler in expesive clothes." He brushed at the sleeve of his well-tailored brown coat. "And butlers don't get to dance with attractive women.

There's quite a difference between skirting the rules and putting musket balls through them.

Okay, that's enough teasing, buddy," she moaned, writhing against him. "I want the main course."
"I'm not through with the appetizer," he returned, lifting her onto the edge of the table and pulling her panties down in the same motion. He flung them somewhere over his shoulder.
"Hey! I've lost track of the number of pairs of underwear I've lost since I met you," she protested in a voice thick with passion and amusement.
"I'll buy you a store." Rick sat in her vacated chair and leaned in to kiss the insides of her thighs.

I had no idea," she panted, "that being ruined could be so invigorating.

We are not a couple,' she said softly. 'Therefore I cannot cuckold you.'
'Shall I pull out the note and point to the bit where it says we're lovers?'
Her lashes lowered a touch. 'Are you jealous, darling?'
'Sleep with whomever you please, Diane. But if you attempt to make me look the fool, I won't be so cooperative.' Even as he spoke the words he realized he was lying - which wasn't that unusual, except for the fact that he'd evidently been attempting to lie to himself. That was a damned useless waste of effort.

Hola."
"How hungry are you?"
"I'm actually already eyeing a pizza place," Samantha's smooth voice came. "How long do you think you'll be?"
"Too long. I think I'm going to order in."
"Don't forget to feed your minions."
He smiled. "Yes, love. I've already told them to find some crumbs. I'll see you in a few hours." That was his Sam, professional criminal and champion to overworked office staff everywhere.
"Okay." She paused. "How's it going today?"
"Fairly well. I'm currently threatening to drop the Manhattan and buy another hotel instead."
She chuckled. "I'm never playing Monopoly with you. See you tonight.

"How hungry are you?""How hungry are you?"

Richard ground his jaw. "I am not having this conversation right now," he growled, standing. "Watch your bloody movie and stay in the house until we get all the paperwork filed and put out a press release."
Halfway to the door, a pillow hit him squarely between the shoulder blades. Richard froze.
"You didn't just do that," he said, still unmoving.
"The next thing I throw is going to hurt."
He turned around. "What are you, five?"
"Maybe. You're the one who just sent me to my room." Samantha stood up. "You think you're mad? I used to be able to go wherever I wanted, do anything, be anybody. And cops were never fucking waiting for me at my front door, because nobody knew where I lived! Now they all know who I am and where I am.

I don't want a well-ordered life ... I would die from boredom in a fortnight.

Don't compliment me in the middle of an argument. It won't make me stammer or blush, and it just makes you look desperate.

When the devil faults your reasoning, you should pay attention.

Taken as a whole, men are idiots and fools. They want what they cannot have, and fear what they do have has been gotten too cheaply to be valuable.

What?" she asked, eyeing him in the mirror. He shook himself. "What what?" "You're smiling. That scares me.

She shifted gears as they left Worth Avenue, hurtling them along the beach at just sublight speed. "Jesus, Addison, you are so blind," she finally exploded. "She comes in playing the damsel in distress, and you buy all of it."
"She did n - "
"'Oh, Richard, I need your help,'" she mimicked, doing a startlingly good impression of Patricia's soft, cultured Brit - especially since the two women had barely spoken a total of five words to one another. "'I've left Peter, and I so badly want to make a new start, but I just don't know how to do it on my own. You're so big and strong and successful, can't you see it in your heart to help me?'" Samantha canted her eyes at him. "Did it go a little like that?"
Christ. "Maybe," he hedged. "But - "
"See? She wants you back."
"Well, she can't have me. I'm taken. But she asked for my help, and I'm partially the reason she's in this position."
"No, she put herself on her back and then you put her in the next position."
"Even so - "
"You can't resist putting on your shining armor, can you?" she said more calmly, blowing out her breath. "And if I know it, then she knows it, too."

"Honestly, Samantha, I think it's more a matter of Patricia actually being helpless than her acting that way to gain my assistance. I doubt she could find a grocery store on her own, much less the toothpaste aisle."
"But she's not after toothpaste."

As they stopped at a light, Richard leaned over and gra

He had no breath, no being, but in hers, she was his voice; he did not speak to her. But trembled on her words; She was his sight, For his eye followed hers, and saw hers, Which colored all his objects-he had crease to live within himself; She was his life, The ocean to the river of his thoughts ...

She pursed her lips. "Satisfied I'm not carrying a concealed weapon?"
"I have no idea where you'd keep one, if you were," he returned, sliding his gaze along the length of her.
"Thanks for noticing.

Peanut butter, or turkey?"
"Turkey. Soft on the mayo, extra mustard."
Rick lifted an eyebrow at her. "Do I look like a cook?"
"You do until Vilseau comes back. Because anything beyond microwave pizza is your territory, sweetheart."
With a grin he began slathering mustard on one of the slices of bread. "Wonderful. So now I have to negotiate a multimillion-dollar deal and cook? Do you want tomatoes?"
"Hell, yes, my darlin'."
"Ahem. Innocent bystander trying not to barf over here." Stoney waved a hand at them from the doorway. "What's the gig?"
"Food first. Do you want Rick to make you a sandwich?"
"Hey," Rick protested.

"Turkey." title="Suzanne Enoch Quotes: Peanut butter, or turkey?"
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Returning to her position beneath the skylight, she yanked her arm down. The end of a length of rope tumbled into the room. "Oh, Mr. Addison. I never give something for nothing."
He found that he wasn't quite ready for her to leave. "Perhaps we could negotiate."
She released the rope, approaching him with a walk that looked half Catwoman and all sexy. "I already suggested that, and you turned me down. But be careful. Somebody wants you dead. And you have no idea how close somebody like me can get, without you ever knowing," she
murmured, lifting her face to his.
Jesus. She practically gave off sparks. He could feel the hairs on his arms lifting. "I would know," he returned in the same low tone, taking a slow step closer, daring her to make the next move. If she did, he was going to touch her. He wanted to touch her, badly. The heat coming off her body was almost palpable.

If you're man enough to fuck someone, be man enough to take responsibility for the results.

You've gone mad. What's driven you to this nonsense?"
"You have," he snarled. "You, with your pretty gray eyes and your smile and the way you speak your mind. The sound of your laugh, your tears when something makes you sad." He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to imagine anyone else who had ever made him feel the way he did when he was with her. Emptiness looked back at him. There wasn't anyone else. "You're the only woman I've ever ... liked.

So you intend to spend the remainder of your life whoring, drinking, wagering, and being as outrageous as you can manage?"
Bram shook himself. He made it a point to be serious as little as possible, and neither did he want to argue with two newly married men about the meruts of being leg-shackled."Please Phin," he said aloud. "I would never think so small. You know my ultimate goal is to lower the standards of morality enough that everything I do becomes acceptable.

Reg: Furth's in London. And yes, I know, it's my fault. But as long as I'ver roused the lion, I was going to ask you to speak to him on my behalf.
Alex: You wish me to speak to Furth.
Reg: Well, yes. He's always like you. Just tell him what a noble, upright fellow I am, and how I have always upheld my position with dignity and respect.
Alex: Lie, you mean.
REg: Whatever it takes.

I've found that it's easier to be pleasant when there's less need to be so.

Has anyone ever told you that you're unbearably rude?" she returned, facing him again.
"Why, yes. You have on several occasions, as I recall. If you care to apologize for that, however, I'll be happy to escort you wherever you wish to go."
A flush crept up her cheeks, coloring her delicate, ivory skin. "I will never apologize to you," she snapped. "And you may go straight to Hades."
He hadn't expected her to apologize, yet he couldn't help suggesting it every so often. "Very well. Upstairs, first door on the left. I'll be in Hades, if you should require my services.

Come below for a moment. Please."
"Zephyr, I don't have time t - "
"Bradshaw, do me the courtesy of at least looking at me when I'm talking to you, or I shall punch you in the nose."
His lean jaw twitched, but he folded his arms across his chest and faced her. "What is it, then?"
She took a deep breath. This would have been so much easier in a more intimate setting and if he wasn't glaring at her. "Shaw, I just wanted to say - that is, I mean - I . . . I love you."
Something crossed his expression so swiftly that she couldn't decipher it. But then he very obviously scowled. At her. "You're only saying that now because I bullied you into it."
Oh, that was enough of that. "Idiot. You have no idea how much considering I've been doing. And you have never bullied me into anything. I said I love you because I love you."
He hesitated again. "Very well. Thank you. Now you won't have to worry that you drove me to my death if I don't return."
Zephyr narrowed her eyes. "All you did was say you loved me and then run away. I'm standing here saying it back to you, and all you can do is try to make me into a liar. It's your fault, for surprising me. I don't keep a response to that sort of thing in my pocket, ready for use."
"I know that. And I said thank you.

Does that mean there'll be no engagement ball?"
"There will be," he said, "once I convince Josefina to say yes."
"She turned you down?" Zachary asked skeptically.
"She kicked me, actually. My timing did leave something to be desired."
"Josefina kicked you," Eleanor repeated. At his nod, she pursed her lips.
"Perhaps I do like her after all.

Smiles can be deadlier than pistols, if used correctly.

I'll be back at sea by then," Bradshaw put in, "so I'll comfort myself with the knowledge that you'll name
the infant after me."
"I don't think 'Half-wit' will pass muster with Georgie, but I'll let her know that's your suggestion.

I don't know whether Bancroft has mentioned it or not, but I have made him what I consider to be a rather generous offer for Forton Hall.'
'Bravo!' Stephen applauded ... 'Our traveler may begin traveling.' ...
'A toast then,' [Quin] said ... 'to interesting possibilities.'
'To interesting possibilities,' Felicity repeated in unison with the others

Don't cry,nyonda," he murmured.
Phillipa took a deep breath. "What does that mean, anyway? Nyonda?"
His green gaze held hers. "It's Swahili. It means 'beloved.'" A small smile touched his mouth, and he brushed her cheek again. "You do know I love you, Phillipa. To an alarming degree.

Phillipa" title="Suzanne Enoch Quotes: Don't cry,nyonda," he murmured.
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He smiled. "Happy anniversary, Samantha Jellicoe. So, Godzilla, or sex?"
Samantha laughed. "How about both?"
"I like that. I get to be Godzilla."
"I guess that makes me Tokyo.

There isn't a necklace, is there?'
'You'll only find out if you answer my question.'
'You're mean.'
'I'm learning to be so.' She preferred to think of it as taking more of a hand in her own destiny, but she didn't much care what anyone else might call it.

Perhaps his next task should be to concoct an eighth deadly sin. Or he could work toward finding even a dozen. The devil knew he'd worn out the original seven.

He wrote you a poem?" Evelyn looped her hand around Georgiana's arm and led the way to the chairs lining one side of the room.
"He did." Grateful to see Luxley select one of the debutantes as his next victim, Georgiana accepted a glass of Madeira from one of the footman. After three hours of quadrilles, waltzes, and country dances, her feet ached. "And you know what rhymes with Georgiana, don't you?"
Evelyn wrinkled her brow, her gray eyes twinkling. "No, what?"
"Nothing. He just put 'iana' after every ending word. In iambic trimeter, yet. 'Oh, Georgiana, your beauty is my sunlightiana, your hair is finer than goldiana, your - ' "
Lucinda made a choking sound.

What's so ludicrous about Rafael wanting to travel?'
'He has a life here. He's a Bancroft, for God's sake.'
'I believe he thinks he's already explored that aspect of his life to death, Quinlan.

Excuse me," a breathy female voice came from beside her, and she lifted her head. A stunning blonde in a dress cut down to her belly button and up to her crotch hovered beside the table.
"Yes?" she asked, not certain whether to scream or laugh.
"Are you Richard Addison?" the woman breathed, ignoring Sam.
Rick blinked. "Oh, me. I thought you were talking to her. Yes, I am."
"Could I have your autograph?"
"Certainly. Do you have a pen?" The woman held out a napkin and a pen, and Rick signed his name. "There you go."
"How about your phone number?" The woman gave a low giggle, but pressed the napkin back into Rick's hand.
Sam would have stood, but Rick kicked her under the table. "Ouch," she grumbled, glaring at him.
"I'm sorry, but I don't give out my phone number."
"Are you sure?" Belly Button Girl licked her lips.
"If I might make a comment," Rick continued, granting her a warm smile, though Sam noted that his eyes remained cool and untouched, "I'm a bit occupied right now, enjoying the company of a very lovely young lady with whom I enjoy spending my every spare moment." He
straightened further, lowering his voice to a bare murmur. "So I thank you for your interest, but I am never in a million years going to give you my phone number. Good evening."
Her face turning scarlet under its inch of makeup, the woman turned away, departing with a sway of her perfect hips. "You're so cool," Sam breathed.
"You could at lea

Sin was a powerful temptation, indeed

Felicity grabbed onto a broken roof beam for support. It was strange, standing in the middle of where the drawing room used to be, and seeing her broken bedchamber furniture occupying the same space. She wanted to cry every time she looked at the rubble, but weeping wouldn't help her dig out her jewelry box or the books piled in the wreck of the library.

Obsidian eyes met hers, unreadable and assessing. Men didn't generally pay her much attention except to make an even number in a dance. And now she had a secret nearly-betrothed and a supposed teacher, one who looked like an angel and one a devil, and both with awful reputations. Best to remember that neither of them likely had anything good in mind for her.

If he needed an answer about how much he'd changed, that provided it. He didn't want Fatima Hynes or any other nameless female with vacant eyes and an ample bosom. He didn't want anyone else, ever. He wanted Evelyn Marie Ruddick - and he'd be damned if he was going to let Neckcloth Alvington have her without a fight. And if there was one thing he knew how to do better than anyone else in London, it was how to fight dirty

You might at least acknowledge that I put my self in harm's way on your behalf, Evie' the deeper voice of Viscount Dare came from her other side.
Georgina stiffened. ' No you didn't. Go away now.'
'No, I didn't,' he repeated amiably, and nodded. ' Goodbye.'
'Wait!' Evelyn caught his arm. ' What do you mean, on my behalf?'
'I ... ah ... ' He glanced over her head at his wife. 'I don't mean anything. I have a mental disability.

What are you doing, terrorizing the virgins?

What the devil are you doing here?' Rafe demanded, eyeing him suspiciously.
Warefield raised his eyebrows. 'You asked for help.'
'I asked for money.'
'It's the same thing.'
'No, it's not. You-'
'And who might this be?

That was the thing about courage, she was discovering. It opened so much more of the world to her than she'd expected. A

I don't know what you said to my chef," Rick's voice came from the doorway, "but he's now creating a dessert of some kind in your honor."
She grinned. "Just so it's not Jellicoe Jell-O or something."
"How charming were you?"
"I just asked for a sandwich," she said, licking mayonnaise off her finger and turning a page,
"and complimented him on his culinary skills. I'd heard somewhere that his coffee won an award.

You have business here?' the gruff voice asked.
Rafe didn't relish the thought of a musket ball piercing his heart. His mother, and scads of London ladies, would be terribly upset.

Blue eyes held hers. "I have the oddest desire to learn what you want from life," he continued.

Phillipa, my heart, my blood, my everything,
will you for God's and my sake marry me?

Tiny white flowers sprinkled the upper part of the gown like glimpses of stars at dusk, while the gathered waist and skirt darkened into solid twilight.

Someone was absolutely going to get punched in the head today.

I didn't have much notice, either, and you don't see me stomping about or trying to encourage people to faint or cry." Oh, she likely shouldn't have said that, either.
"Ye've a slightly better hold of yer temper than Coll does."
"A dragon would seem to have an easier temper than your brother," she blurted, then put a hand over her mouth. What was wrong with her tonight?
He snorted. "I cannae argue with that.

Valentine lifted Rose to look her in the eye. You are staying away from men, my
sugar cake. Men are evil, wicked, and devious. I know this, because I am one.

I wish you'd tell me when we're having friends over for luncheon."
"I would, if they would tell me.

Raspberry iced tea for Irving, water for Tom, a soda for me, and Hans insisted that I bring Mr.
Addison a nice chilled root beer." She handed them over, then leaned against Rick's arm as she popped the tab of her Diet Coke and took a drink. "Anything yet?" she whispered.
"Not so far," Richard answered, careful not to move. Sometimes he felt like a hunter trying to lure a deer into a trap. Don't move, or she'll remember you're there and run away .

I couldn't allow you to reside at a place where such poor spelling is tolerated.

Wouldn't you be pleased if I decided I'm becoming too old for adventuring?"
Viscount Dare frowned. "You're not too old for it. But I'd like to think you're becoming too wise for it.

Roses," Georgiana repeated, her thoughtful gaze touching his. "It's about time one of the Carroway men
decided to cultivate something other than their poor reputations.

They watched the turning colors of the sky until they faded to gray.
'Are the sunsets in Africa as beautiful?' Felicity asked.
He stirred. 'Hm? Oh. They're different. The heat rises from the ground in waves.' He motioned with his hand. 'The lower the sun gets, the more the horizon seems to ripple and move, like it's alive. It's mesmerizing.'
She freed her fingers and started back toward the house. 'I'm sorry all Cheshire sunsets have to offer are pretty colors.'
Rafe watched her retreating backside, tired of the tension between them, and tired of the way he couldn't mention anything farther away than Pelford without upsetting her - even when she lured him into the conversation, as though to test his interest. 'Lis, stop that.'
She turned and looked at him. 'Then stop preferring everywhere else in the world above Forton Hall.'
He narrowed his eyes. 'I will, if you'll stop preferring Forton Hall above all the rest of damned creation.

I don't know why I'm still here. All right? And I'd just like to figure it out before I go.

Phillipa blew out her breath. Running a finger along the soft flower petals, she unfolded the note. For Phillipa, she read to herself,
I hope adding yellow daisies isn't too forward. I asked Lady Fennington for their meaning, and she said white means "purity," while yellow means "slighted." I'm taking them to mean "frustrated." Because I am frustrated that you are still pure. Bennett.
She snorted.

How many of us have gazed at a man and thought, 'yes, him,' only to have him pay his attentions to someone else? And how many of us have sighed and waited for some other gentleman to come forward? All I wish to ask is, why? Why not strike up a conversation? Why not determine for ourselves whether 'he' is the one? Why leave it to fate?"
A LADY'S GUIDE TO PROPER BEHAVIOR, 2ND EDITION