Marguerite Kaye

...People - the ones who are left behind - desire answers. Even when we are advised from beyond the grave not to pursue them.

There were times when he felt as if he were being literally torn in two. Times when he raged at the injustice of what was happening to him, times when he was overwhelmed with guilt. There was no right and wrong anymore, which had been one of clear-cut lines for so long, was now so blurred that he was careening around like a compass struggling to find true north.

I supposed you've already kissed him? Don't deny it, that guilty look is a complete giveaway. Did you like it?" "Felicity!" "Well?" "Yes." Ainsley laughed. "Yes, I did." "Was it a good kiss? The kind of kiss to give you confidence that your Mr. Drummond would know what he was doing? The kind of kiss that made you want him to do more than kiss you?

Celeste." Jack grinned. "How every appropriate. An angel sent from heaven to relieve my boredom.""An artist sent from France to paint your brother's estate," she retorted."Touché'. In that case we should get down to business.

Celeste grabbed his arm. __ou see, you are running away from the truth. Why won__ you talk about it?___ake your hands off me. Now.__he had gone too far. She knew it would be insane to push him further, but she knew with certainty that was exactly what she was going to do. Celeste tilted her head and met his stormy eyes. __o.

It was because he wanted to kiss her so much that he stopped himself, bent over her hand, clicking his heels together, then let her go. "Adios, Isabella. Good luck. Please be careful. Stay safe." "Goodbye, Finlay. May God protect you and keep you from harm.

He closed his eyes and allowed himself to remember the taste of her and the feel of her and the smell of her. She was quite lovely. She was altogether ravishing. She would set any man's blood on fire. He shouldn't have kissed her.

Kissing gave a man all sorts of immoral ideas. Such ideas were, in Madame Hera's world, the province only of men. That Ainsley herself had had ideas - her mind boggled, trying to imagine what Madame would say to that. In fact, those very ideas cropped up in several of the letters Felicity had forwarded to her, variously referred to as 'unnatural desires,' 'longing,' 'carnal stirrings,' fever of the blood,' 'indecent thoughts' and even, memorably, 'an irrepressible need to scratch an itch.

Maman__ life was an unfinished book. Celeste had to discover the ending, and then she could close the cover for ever.

She was riding a camel, in the most beautiful desert, in the kingdom belonging to this most beautiful man. A man who thought she had the most delightful rear. A man who wanted to kiss her every bit as much as she wanted to kiss him. "I know that I will regret saying this, but at this moment in time, I think I could manage anything.

I thought I had to be alone to be free. But I am only ever truly myself when I am with you, Azhar. I know, that is such an -- an extravagant thing to say, but it is true. I have to realize that freedom means having the ability to choose. To choose to share your life, to choose to love unconditionally. The two are inseparable. There is no freedom without love and there is no love without freedom.

She laced her arms around his neck. "Are you hungry, Azhar?" His smile made her blood fizz. "Ravenous, Julia." "Then please, abandon any attempt at controlling your appetite for me," she whispered into his ear, "Because I too am starving.

There is an old saying, that in the desert a camel is more useful than a kingdom," he said ruefully, "but as a location for lovemaking, it leaves a lot to be desired.

There is nothing more effective in igniting a man's desire than a woman's passion. To see the fire in your eyes, to feel the fire in your blood as you touch me, it sets me on fire too. Do you imagine I would prefer to kiss a woman who responds only with -- with compliance? No, I would not. No red-blooded man would. Never apologize for passion. Restraint, Julia, has no place in lovemaking.

He picked up the hairbrush and handed it to her. "What were you planning to do with that, comb me to death?

It is terrifyingly beautiful," Julia said softly. "Terrifying?" "Nature at its most beautiful and most lethal. It is like standing on the edge of one of those lakes in Switzerland, so blue and so calm and so deep and so dangerous. You have the overwhelming urge to plunge in, even though you know the cold will kill you. This desert - your desert - it makes me want to walk into it and keep walking. You probably think I'm being ridiculously fanciful." "I would not have put it in those words, but they are exactly how I feel about Qaryma. Terrifyingly beautiful.

So you wish me to forget that you are a sheikh and a prince and a crown prince and soon to be King? That is a lot to forget.

Do you miss wearing your kilt?" she asked. "In London, it caused more bother than it was worth. Ladies either found it indecent or intriguing. A fair few found it to be both. I was never quite sure whether it was indecently intriguing or intriguingly indecent!