One more minute of this, and she’d be a certifiable simpleton.
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.
She stared at him, horrified. And thrilled. And horrified at being thrilled.
He laughed. A strained, ha, ha, ha, I may die of this laugh.
Kate realized she had a grave problem. She was infatuated. Or mildly insane. Possibly both.
He had to feel those lips on him again. Had. To. This wasn’t a mild expression of preference. This was an imperative. His body was insistent. To continue his existence on this earth, he now needed the following: food, water, shelter, clothing, and Minerva Highwood’s lips.
What on earth are you wearing? Did you take orders in a convent since we spoke last? Little Sisters of the Drab and Homely.
Certainty becomes you.
Men never hesitated to declare their presence. They were permitted to live aloud, in reverberating thuds and clunks, while ladies were always schooled to abide in hushed whispers.
He kissed her. Without warning, without permission. Without even deciding to do it, but simply because he couldn’t have done anything else. He needed that breath she was holding. It belonged to him, and he wanted it back.