historical-romance

Being a pioneering reformer is all fine and good, but it does leave one terribly in want of agood party!

He stared at her, his dark eyes unfathomable. "You could meet a better, worthier man."She laughed, a strained, harsh sound. "I've already met one--he's marrying my sister!"The words blazed forth, hanging in the air as though etched in fire, impossible to recall or deny. They stared at each other, scarcely breathing--then, in an instant, Trevenan closed the distance between them in one stride and pulled her to him, arms banding around her like iron.Their mouths met in a fierce mutual claiming, and the world went white around them--white as lightning, white as the heart of a flame. Closing her eyes, Aurelia let herself fall, deep into a void where all that existed was his touch, his taste, and the hot, urgent press of his lips against hers. This, she thought hazily. Yes, this. And knew by his response, the guttural moan in his throat, that it was the same for him. Love, that is first and last of all things made..."Damn you, James! Why couldn't you wait for me?

The Jock Upstart, is what Wellington calls - called me. A man who does not know his allotted place in the scheme of things.

As I have said, milady, I mean to keep you safe, not harm you. And it is not my habit to force myself on unwilling maidens.""Aye, pilgrim?" she asked dubiously. "Next you will tell me you are as chaste as a monk." She backed toward the door.A grin slowly eased the hard line of his mouth. "I did not say that.

Let me give you one piece of advice. Do not get between a woman and her cause.

Why should I mind?_ She drummed her fingertips against his knee. __ecause you got asked to play baseball, while I got a lecture on circumspection, Jezebels, and leading men into sin?_ __id you really?_ He managed to sound annoyed, fascinated, and amused all at once.__t__ not funny._ __f course it__ not._ He was quick to try and placate her. __ut we can do something about those lectures real quick. All you have to do is marry me.__oyote Bluff had too many secrets that weren__ hers to share. She couldn__ put him in that position. He was a federal marshal. And she__ seen what all the lies her father told had done to her mother. She__ died hating him.The last remnants of her earlier contentment vanished. __ like my independence._ __hen I guess you__l have to get used to the lectures, Sheriff Jezebel,_ he replied.

What__ bosoms?_ Cade asked.__ou__l find out when you get older,_ Jake said."A lot older," Colt said.

The only death I fear is the one I fell when we're apart.

And of course it has nothing to do with the fact that I haven't been with a women since I came to your bed back in February-Devlin.

As a lady of clocklike precision yourself, you may appreciate my schedule. I have kept strictly to it every day for the past decade. From eight in the morning to eight in the evening, I devote myself to my duties. Then from eight in the evening to eight in the morning, I . . . do . . . not.

Celeste committed the cardinal sin of leaning across Jack's arm. "You will excuse me, Madam, but I have something most particular to say to Monsieur Trestain.""That was rude," jack said, though he was smiling."No doubt you thought her very beautiful.""No doubt that is what you think I thought.

My father prided himself on maintaining traditions that were hundreds of years old. You'll feel as if you've stepped back into the eighteenth century." Her brows lifted in surprise. He could see the wheels turning in her clever brain, but she chose merely to nod, and perversely, though he knew he would not like it, he wanted to know what she was thinking. "Go on. Say it." "It is nothing. Only - you are very much a man of the nineteenth century." "You mean you're not surprised I left such a backward place." "Such a backward place must be crying out for a man like you." Ainsley pushed her windswept hair out of her eyes.

Lulled into complacency, one of the brigands' hands loosened on his arm, and Warren had his chance. Breaking free, he grabbed a handful of Red's braids and tangled his fingers in the silky plaited coils. She cried out, flailing her arms, but he dragged her against him as he fell backward, pulling her down on top of him. The warriors' retaliation was prompt...

It had seemed entirely sensible at the time. A simple way to test the truth of her claim that she had lain with de Villiers. To show her that lying to him was useless. To make a point.Instead, he had ignited a desire that burned him like none he had ever felt before.He had expected Lady Laurien d'Amboise to be a timid little convent mouse. Quiet and passive and pliant. Easily manageable. Instead she was outspoken and strong-willed...and stunning in a way he could not even describe.An innocent beauty caught up in a deadly game that was none of her making....Malcolm rose to leave, chuckling."And what is there to laugh about?"Darach gave his jovial friend a dour look.Malcolm stopped just long enough to do his best imitation of Darach. "'Simple. Kidnap one French lass, hold her for a fortnight, and return her to de Villiers after he meets our demands. Perfectly simple.

Celeste rejoined him. "How you ladies do love a bargain," he said."You were listening!""I left before you shared the secrets of your undergarments." Jack looked sheepish. "That didn't sound quite how I intended."Celeste blushed. "You should not have mentioned it at all. A lady's undergarments are not a fit topic for a gentleman to discuss at a military dinner.""Actually," he retorted, "you would be surprised at how often the subject comes up.

Her feet moved into the vast space, but all she couldsee was Cyrus. He strode through the room the way acaptain commands his ship. Was it possible his maroon bruise made him more dashing? He was a fine sight in a black broadcloth coat. Hersalacious gaze dropped to a brass button lower on hiswaistcoat. The metal glimmered, winking at her withflirtatious intent very near the tuft of hair she rememberedso well at his navel. The corner of Cyrus__ mouth crooked. If shelooked ready to devour him, he read the message onher face, no words required. __laire._ He said her name like a treasured sound. Then, herlandlord bent low over her hand, kissing her knucklesand keeping her fingers in a tender hold.Her flesh sung a merry tune recalling how she__gripped those broad shoulders of his in a fit of passion.Was that only two nights ago? Her cheeks turned hotat the memory. Cyrus rose to his full height, holding her hand. Heplanted a kiss on her forehead. __mmm_ he hummed approvingly. __ou smellof almonds._ His lips lingered on her hairline, givingher another soft kiss. __nd vanilla, I think. Somethingyou cooked?_ He breathed in her scent, standing close yet notintimidating in the least. His own smell was cleanand starched with a hint of coffee. She reached high,touching his face like a woman with every right topartake of the feast he offered. __t__ face powder._ One finger stroked the smoothsquare of his jaw, her voice curving with amusement. __oday I join the ranks of ladies who meet for luncheon,and I can__ be sure if I__e been lured here orgoaded by one very challenging man put on earth toharass my senses._ She caressed his jaw, the grain of his skin smoothto the touch. He must__e shaved in the last hour. Hismouth quirked sideways, pressing the maroon bruisehigher up his cheek. __omething tells me you__e the perfect woman tosoothe such a man or put him in his place._ His pewterstare flicked over her exposed skin, settling on hercleavage. __s to your senses, I shall treat them withthe utmost care.

The Earl of Blackstone didn__ seem particularly mysterious to Emily. In fact, as he stood there silently__xcept for that sneering laugh he__ tried to cover up__he could think of several other adjectives to add to the list next time Sarah was searching for one: rude, self-important, boorish. And, if one could judge by the slightly slack-jawed way he stared at her, perhaps even __imple.

Having our voices heard in the wilderness is akin to sharing our souls. Angelina J. Windsor