Quotes from Lisa Kleypas

I learned that a sense of privacy doesn't have to depend on walls and doors. At least not external ones. Two people could sit in a room and read or work separately without ever breaking the silence. It's an ability to put up walls in your mind, so no one can get through.

You saved him, Evie, on the night you offered to marry him. Which is evidence, I suppose, that moments of lunacy can occasionally lead to positive results.

He wanted all her circles to lead back to him

She had made Matthew want to smile. With her luminous skin, her exotic cinnamon-colored eyes and quicksilver expressions, Daisy Bowman seemed to have come from an enchanted forest populated with mythical creatures.

McKenna was her counterpart, her compass, her sanctuary.

The stew had been made with chunks of beef, potatoes, and turnips simmered in burgundy wine until they melted at the lightest pressure of the tongue. There was a salad of crisp lettuce greens and chopped mint leaves, and wedges of cottage bread, the interior laced with holes to catch every drop of salted butter.

Is this how you treat women now, Kev?" Everything stopped. The world halted on its axis. Her skirt hem dropped, and she was seized in a fierce, hurtful grip and spun around. Caught helplessly, she looked up into his dark face. Merripen was expressionless, save for the widening of his eyes. As he stared at her, a flush burned across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. "Win." Her name was carried on a shaken breath.

But before he left, Matthew drew his wife aside and whispered, "Why do they have holes in their dresses?" "I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation," she whispered back, and pressed a fleeting kiss on his jaw.

Don't tell me you don't trust me, Lucinda. For the way I exercised such commendable restraint last night, I deserve a medal, not suspicion.

What can Mr. Winterborne be thinking?" she asked with a flustered laugh. "He's sent enough food for an army." "Obviously he's courting the entire family," West told her. "I can't speak for everyone else, but I for one feel thoroughly wooed.

My love, have you considered the possibility that you might enjoy our consummation sufficiently to want it more than once?" How easily endearments seem to trip from his tongue. "No," Evie said firmly. "I won't." "Mmm..." A sound almost like a cat's purr left his throat. "I like a challenge.

If there's one thing every man loves to do, it's telling a woman how to do something." They

How can you be sure?" MacRae asked, one brow lifting in a mocking arch. "Will you be managing the operation yourself?" The way he asked, sarcasm wrapped in silk, elicited an odd little pang of recognition, as if she'd heard him say something in just that tone before. Which made no sense, since they'd never met until this moment.

For the first time in his life, he was beginning to recognize that true passion was not easily satisfied, that there was a difference between the needs of his cock and the organ that resided two feet above it. It was not a welcome discovery.

The chambermaid, who had been leaving the room, paused at the doorway. "Pardon but 'e's not abed, miss...er, milady. Lord St. Vincent work Mr. Rohan at first light, and is dragging him to an' from, asking questions and giving 'im lists. Put Mr. Rohan in the devil's own mood, 'e 'as." "Lord St. Vincent has that effect on people," Evie said dryly.

Well…" Annabelle looked from one expectant face to another, unable to keep from grinning. "If the three of you are willing, then so am I. But if we're to make a pact, shouldn't we sign it in blood or something?" "Heavens, no," Lillian said. "I should think we can all agree to something without having to open a vein over it.

Going wherever you please, any time of day or night. Doing a man's work, when you should be at home with a mending basket. You'll do more good for the world that way than trying to become a man." "I have no desire to become a man," Garrett said coolly. "That would be backsliding.

Too much thinking will excite the sparks of vice.

St. Vincent. Her husband. He was naked, or at least the upper half of him was. He slept on his stomach, his smoothly muscled arms curved around the pillow beneath his head. The broad lines of his shoulders and back were so perfect that they seemed to have been carved from pale Baltic amber and sanded to a glossy finish. His face was much softer in repose than it was in wakefulness... the calculating eyes were closed, and his mouth was relaxed into gentle, innocently sensuous lines.

Theirs had been a complex relationship, two people who had been bound by disappointments and resentments the way others were bound by love. Helen

You must learn to ignore what people say," Sebastian murmured, coming to her. Standing behind her, he rested his fingers lightly on her shoulders, causing her to start a little. "You'll be much happier that way." Suddenly his voice was tipped with amusement. "I've learned that while gossip about others is often true, it's never true when it is about oneself.

Rather than list all the things I don't like about him," Daisy said finally, "it's far easier to say there is no reason why I should like him.

Her presence pierced him like arrows, promising a future of endless unsatisfied wanting.

His low, dark voice curled in her ear. "There's a saying we have about whisky: Slow fire makes sweet malt.