Quotes from Jennifer Ashley

Addie was here by her own choice, lying on a very comfortable bed, while a hot man who didn't look at her with boredom was running around somewhere, insisting she take it easy while he did all the work. Dreams really did come true.

Mrs. Ackerley," Mather said stiffly. "Have a care for your reputation. People might put it about that you're his mistress." By people, Mather likely meant himself. Before Beth could answer, Ian said quietly, "Beth is my wife.

Ian closed his eyes. Beth watched emotions flicker across his face, the uncertainty, the stubbornness, the raw pain he'd lived with for so long. He didn't always know how to express his emotions, but that didn't mean he didn't feel them deeply.

She tasted happiness here that she'd had only a glimpse of with Thomas. Thomas had taught thelonely, frightened Beth Villiers that she was allowed to be happy. Ian was letting her imbibe all the happiness she wanted.

I don't want you back because you feel obligated to me, love," he said. "That's the devil of wedding vows - they make you do things for a person you maybe should run away from. Come back to me because you want to, not because you think you ought to. Do you understand?

Don't worry, love. We'll find out." "I don't see how." "We'll wrap his ponytail around his neck and threaten to strangle him with it unless he tells us what we want to know.

I will write as often as I can, but truth be told, I don't have many moments to myself. The queen is in a very bad way and needs everyone who can be at her side. But whenever I undo my buttons to ready myself for bed, I think of you. I imagine your fingers unfastening my gown, opening me like a Christmas parcel for your pleasure. I tingle even now as I think of it, and so I will close before I quite combust and burn the paper.

You never forget the love of your life, Ainsley Douglas, no matter what he did to anger you, and no matter how much time has passed.

But she couldn't read Mr. Mackenzie. He didn't let anyone behind his barriers, not easily. But when he did . . . When he did, worlds would unfold.

Why? What can I do to help?" The man raised his brows. "Nothing. You've got great legs—I just want to see them next to me.

Any other woman would have fallen over in fear when Hart turned that famous stare on her. Hart's own wife had fainted on more than one occasion when Hart had looked at her. Not Beth. She'd stood straight and tall and told Hart what she thought of him. Ian had wanted to laugh until the paintings of his illustrious ancestors rang with it. Hart needed a kick in his ass sometimes, and if Beth wanted to do it, Ian would let her.

They all had them, dark secrets of the soul. The only way to deal with them was to live, and forget.

an took one step closer to Hart. Though he kept his eyes averted, there was no mistaking the anger in his stance and his voice. "She is my wife, under my protection. The only way I will let you do anything against this marriage is if you declare me a lunatic again." Hart flushed dull red. "Ian, listen to me—" "I want her as my wife, and she stays my wife." Ian softened his voice a notch. "She is a Mackenzie now. Treat her as one.

You were going to refuse him?" "Yes." "Why?" I thought of you and I couldn't.

He remembered that his brothers had been puzzled and angry that Ian had let Isabella lay a hand on his arm or give him a quick kiss on the cheek, when he refused to let the rest of his family touch him. Ian had thought his brothers fools about that. If they couldn't understand the difference between three overbearing Scotsmen who smelled of smoke and whiskey, and a lovely young woman scented with of attar of roses, he couldn't help them.

He wasn't listening. "We don't fit in, you and me," he said. "We're both oddities no one knows what to do with. But we fit together." He took her hand, pressed her palm to his, then laced their fingers through each other's. "We fit.

Simple explanations are usually the wisest ones - a person can complicate a straightforward situation with unnecessary dramatics and end up in a complete mess.

Daniel was just nineteen now and already friends with half of England, not to mention all of Scotland and probably most of Wales.

There is no reason to start small. If you want something, you go for it. You never know in this life when it will all be taken away.

It's a besetting sin of the family. Uncle Hart had his own personal brothel at my age, where he trained ladies in the art of exquisite pleasure. He trained them, not the other way around, the pompous bastard. Dad had his own racing stable, Uncle Mac was already a celebrated artist with a scandalous marriage. I'm a bit late in the proceedings for a Mackenzie.

What's more, he could fall asleep with her and wake up with her, spend the day with her, go to bed with her, and begin the wonderful ritual all over again. His

His words died and he began to rub his temple, frustration glinting in his eyes. Beth put her hand over his. "Don't think of it." "It plays over and over and over again, like a melody that won't stop.

Ye have to be bold, lad. We're told that ladies want cringing politeness from a gentleman, but what they really want is a bit of forwardness, even carnality. It's exciting for them.

Oh, Danny, it's so confusing." "Not really. You're falling in love with him. Or are already in love with him." "But am I? Or just... overwhelmed?" "Love is overwhelming.[...]