Cam leaned over the bedside, clasping Jenner’s hands in his just as Evie had done. “Father of my heart,” the young Gypsy said softly, “be at peace with every soul you leave behind. And know that God will open your way in the new life.
What is he doing here?” Zachary asked beneath his breath. Holly reached for his tense arm and held it lightly. “It’s a very great favor,” she whispered back. “By attending our wedding, Lord Blake is publicly showing his support of our marriage.” “More likely taking his last opportunity to ogle you.
Mr. Bayning is not a frog,” Poppy protested. “You’re right,” Beatrix said. “That was very unfair to frogs, who are lovely creatures.” As.
Are you going to cry, Mr. Bronson?” the child asked in concern, coming to stand beside his knees, staring into his downturned face. He managed to smile at her. “Just a little on the inside,” he said raspily. He felt her little hand on his cheek, and he held utterly still as she kissed him on the nose.
If you intend to drink yourself to death,” Amelia had told Leo calmly, “I wish you would do it at a more affordable place.” “But I’m a viscount now,” Leo had replied nonchalantly. “I have to do it with style, or what will people say?” “That you were a wastrel and a fool, and the title might just as well have gone to a monkey?” That had elicited a grin from her handsome brother. “I’m sure that comparison is quite unfair to the monkey.
What did you give her?” Holly asked Zachary, and his black eyes glinted with mischief. “Buttons.” “Buttons,” she whispered in surprise. “From where?” “One from my wedding coat and one from the back of your gown. Rose wanted them to commemorate the occasion.” “You took a button from the back of my gown?” Holly whispered, casting him a shaming glance as she wondered how he had managed to accomplish the small feat without her notice. “Be thankful I stopped at just one, my lady,” he advised.
Marcus closed his eyes and gave a faint, desperate groan. He wanted her. Not merely to bed her – though at the moment that was certainly his uppermost thought – but in other ways as well. He could no longer deny that for the rest of his life, he would measure every other woman against her, and find them all lacking.
Devlin’s disarming blue eyes were set in a face of such perfect masculine beauty that it should have come from a painting or a sculpture. Yet there was nothing aristocratic about his looks. He possessed an earthiness, a sensuality, that was impossible to ignore. If he resembled an angel, it was a fallen one.
Milady,” she said quietly, “I hardly recognize ye.” Holly’s smile wavered, and she took a deep breath. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing, Maude? What would my husband have said, if he had ever seen me like this?” “I think Master George would have loved to see ye in that red gown,” Maude replied thoughtfully. “He was a man, after all.
I want a companion who’ll go on walks with me, and sit on my lap while I pet him.” “You’ll have me for that.” Cassandra pointed to the contract. “Dog,” she insisted. “I’m afraid it’s nonnegotiable.
Simon had never forgotten the first moment that he had seen her standing outside the panorama, digging through her purse with a little pucker on her forehead. The sun had picked out streaks of gold and champagne in her light brown hair and made her skin glow. There had been something so delicious... so touchable... about her, the velvety skin and shining blue eyes, and the slight frown that he had longed to soothe away.
You’re not supposed to be on the bed,” he told the puppy. “It’s contractually prohibited.
Just because you can look a man in the eyes when you lie doesn’t mean you’ve fooled him.
She heard him murmur her name, and then, to her utter astonishment, she saw him sink to his knees and felt his huge hands clutching the folds of silk at her hips. He buried his face against her midriff like an exhausted child. Shocked, Holly reached down to his dark hair. The thick, slightly curling strands were damp against her fingertips, and she stroked them lovingly. “Darling,” she whispered over and over, touching the hot nape of his neck.
St. Vincent was a handsome man with wheat-colored hair and pale blue eyes. Some claimed he had the most perfect form and features of any man alive. The looks of a saint, the soul of a scoundrel.
If something is easily given, they’re indifferent to it. If something is withheld, they want it desperately.
No wagon keeps the same wheels forever.
Every night for the rest of my life, I’ll dream of the afternoon in the holloway, when I was waylaid by a dark-haired beauty who devastated me with the heat of a thousand troubled stars, and left my soul in cinders. Even when I’m an old man, and my brain has fallen to wrack and ruin, I’ll remember the sweet fire of your lips under mine, and I’ll say to myself, ‘Now, that was a kiss.’” Silver-tongued.
I had hooked up my iPod to the speakers. The air was filled with the raw, sexy purr of Etta James. “The thing that’s great about the blues,” I told Luke, pausing to sip from my glass of wine, “is that it’s about feeling, loving, wanting without the brakes on. No one’s brave enough to live that way. Except maybe musicians.
Though Sebastian wasn’t looking at her, he could hear the note of childish defiance in her voice, and it caused a wrench in his heart... a heart that he always believed to be nothing more than an efficient muscle.