Is it truly so unfathomable, that an imperfect girl might be perfectly loved?
So odd. Most women of his acquaintance relied on physical beauty and charm to mask their less-pleasant traits. This girl did the opposite, hiding everything interesting about herself behind a prim, plain facade. What other surprises was she concealing?
After spending all of her girlhood fervently wishing she could run away from home – she’d actually done it.
Jesus. Jesus Christ and Mary Magdalene. Delilah, Jezebel, Salome, Judith, Eve. Trouble, every last one. Add Minerva Highwood to the list.
One more minute of this, and she’d be a certifiable simpleton.
She’d always wondered what it would feel like to stand on one end of a ballroom and watch a handsome, powerful man make his way to her. This was as close as she’d ever come to it, she supposed. Standing at Diana’s side. Imagining.
Amazing, then, how with that one remark, he made a mortifying situation thirteen times worse.
This is the normal way with birthdays, see? Amazingly enough, they arrive on the same day, every year.
Think of it like running down a slope. If you attempt to slow down and choose your steps, you’re bound to trip up and stumble.
Dedication: For all the girls who walk and read at the same time.
Dedication: For librarians and booksellers everywhere, who gather books and build shelters for tender souls.
A man might engage in flirtation with distinterest, even disdain. But he never teases without affection.
A home isn’t only defined by what you need, Bram. It’s also about the people who need you.
He couldn’t compare a woman to a torrentially beautiful monsoon, and then look surprised that he’d gotten wet.
Anne Barton is a delightful new voice in historical romance! Once She Was Tempted is a charming read, with characters who are easy to love – a wounded earl and a determined heroine whose heart won’t be denied.
We have to get out of here, Bram. Before they take our bollocks and use them for pincushions.
What is the world coming to, with these modern women? A man can’t tell them what to do.
No, no. Don’t make that face. Every time I propose to you, you make that twisty, unhappy face. It wears on a man’s confidence.
Clearly the sight of a well-muscled forearm incited a woman to utter depravity. How else to explain the invention of cuffs?
She would allow him to comfort her. And perhaps, someday, she would listen patiently if a dark, dreary night found him well in his cups and he drunkenly confessed to still feeling scores of wounds that weren’t his own, but those of men under his command.