Quotes from Elizabeth Hoyt

The earl slowly pivoted to face her, the crunching of his boots in the gravel drive loud in the stillness. They stood only a few feet distant. He took a step, his beautiful, heavy-lidded eyes intent on her face.

She nudged his arm to wash under it, where his dark hair grew in a swirl. Where the scent of his masculinity was the strongest. She shouldn't find this erotic. A lady shouldn't find this erotic. And yet she did. His lifted arms made the muscles move over his ribs stand out in intriguing ridges, and she wanted- rather badly, in fact- to lean down and inhale his scent.

She wanted to ride him, wanted to hide him away in her bedroom, to use only for herself. She was jealous of every woman who had come before her. Had used this wonderful penis. Had heard his groan. She opened her eyes. But it was the women who would come after that she truly wanted to kill. He was hers. He should never share this part of himself with anyone else.

Come with me, sweet girl. She blinked up at him, wide blue-gray eyes a little dazed. He covered her mouth again before she could speak- either to consent or decline- and drew her slowly backward, step by step, toward the bed, until he hit it with the backs of his legs. He broke the kiss, looking down at her, her wet ruby lips parted, her cheeks flushed pink. She looked edible. Raphael, she whispered, his name on her lips like a plea, and something within him broke.

Then why in God's name did you grab for George's pistol when you knew help was coming?" Apollo asked. "They weren't here yet and he was going to shoot you," she said, placing her palms on his chest. "I couldn't let him." His throat closed and he couldn't reply. All he could do was pull her into his arms and hold her close.

Oh, yes. I suppose not many remember now, but Maximus was so shattered by the deaths of his parents that he went mute for a full fortnight. Why, some of the quacks that came to look at him said his brain was addled by the tragedy. That he'd never speak again. Rubbish, of course. It simply took him time to come to rights again. He was quite sane. Just a sensitive boy." A boy who, when he came to himself again, was no longer a boy but the Duke of Wakefield, Artemis thought.

Whatever else came tomorrow and for the rest of her life, she would have this moment: this one point in time when she was intimately linked to Maximus. Maximus the man.

It's so tedious," Montgomery sighed, "to have to wait for invitations and, I find, they often don't come when you most want them to. Much easier to simply disregard formal invitations altogether.

Lieutenant Cranston, sitting across the tavern table from him, looked startled. "Something amiss, Captain?" "It's as I feared—we've been called back to sea early. We set sail in less than a

She shifted until his cock was under her. She rubbed herself against him, using his hard flesh to pleasure herself. He arched under her, this big strong man. The tendons of his neck stood out; he flung wide his arms and clutched at the bedclothes. Eve, what you do to me. She watched him and slowly reached down to pull her sodden chemise up, up over her belly, over her breasts, over her head, undulating on him all the while.

You don't know that. You don't know me. No, he conceded. But I want to know you. I want to learn you until the workings of your mind are as familiar to me as I am to myself

His wide brow, his Roman nose, those too-cold eyes, and the lips that in another life- another, better world- would still have been beautiful. This man was her husband. He was intense and intelligent, arrogant and vulnerable, dark and strange. The more she found out about him, the more she thought that perhaps she might fall in love with him, Raphael de Chartres, the Duke of Dyemore. What was more, he was hers . And in that she would not fail.

He took a deep breath and wished irritably that she would call him by his given name. He longed to hear her say Edward. But no. It would be highly inappropriate for her to call him by his Christian name. He gathered his scattered thoughts. "We should return to work." He stood and strode from the room, feeling as if he were fleeing fire-breathing monsters rather than one plain little widow.

He had no money or influence here. The clothes on his back were ragged, his moccasins were worn, and he was skeletally thin from lack of food and walking. But he would sail on a ship bound for England even if he had to scrub the decks to pay his way. He was Reynaud St. Aubyn, the Viscount of Hope, and by God or the devil, he was going home.

TEMPERANCE STARED

A man makes many a mistake in his life, some small and inconsequential, some that change the course of everything. The trick is leaving it behind you and going on anyway. Because if you become stuck in the past, in things that can't ever be changed, well then, you're done for.

Tell me, Mr. Harte, do you ever give up? Never. His green eyes narrowed as his mouth firmed. He looked very much as he had when he'd struck Mr. Sherwood: savage, uncompromising, a force to be reckoned with. She should be afraid of this man. Perhaps she was. Perhaps the hammering of her heart, the quickening of her breath were fear. But if she were, she chose to disregard it. Very well. He sat back, a wide, lopsided grin spreading over his face, just as Ruth entered with another tray.

She lies! cried the Fox, and he leapt toward her, his arm raised. The Wolf lunged, seized the Fox's right arm, twisted it up behind his back, and slammed the other man to his knees. Iris stared and felt a tremble shake her body. She'd never seen a man move so swiftly. Nor so brutally. The Wolf bent over his prey, both men panting, their naked bodies sweating. The snout of the Wolf mask pressed against the Fox's vulnerable bent neck. Don't. Touch. What. Is. Mine.

Artemis let her head fall back, her eyes closed, her lips suddenly trembling. Apollo dying. "Please. Please, Maximus. I'll refrain from provoking you anymore. I'll stay in the shadows with my stockings and shoes on and never swim in your pond again, never disturb you again, only please do this one thing, I beg you. Save my brother.

I can't have my housekeeper rushing all about London so very agitated. Your housekeeper, Lord Caire said, his head snapping alarmingly to Val. Oh, yes, and rather more, Val drawled, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles in the most horrifying manner.

He rose up suddenly and turned her, so that she lay on the bed. He pushed up her skirts, found the ties to her panniers, and yanked them off and threw them to the floor. Then he was on her again, trailing his mouth down her neck, biting at her collarbone. She ran her fingers into the hair at the back of his head, grasping, trying to hold on as he moved on her so intently. He'd always been in control when he'd made love to her. Now he seemed moved by a sort of compulsion. An animal need.

And his simple bravery, his quiet pride, finally broke her. She let the cloth slip from her fingers and bent down to kiss him. His reaction was immediate and decided. He wrapped his strong arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap, forcing her to straddle his legs. He cradled the back of her head in the spread of his fingers, angled his head for a better fit, and opened his mouth over hers. And, oh, the man knew how to kiss.

God.' She'd tasted of oranges and honey and he'd felt her shake beneath his hands. He'd wanted to strip her right there in the carriage with his men riding outside. She was driving him mad. He couldn't look at her anymore without feeling the pull. And yet he could not send her away- everything inside him rebelled at the thought. She had to stay with him so that he could protect her. So that she could illuminate his darkness just a little.

She took two swift steps forward and placed her palms against his chest, pushing. He allowed himself to sway an inch backward with her thrust before righting himself. She stilled, staring up at him. The top of her head barely came to his mid-chest. He could feel the brush of her breath on his lips. The warmth of her hands seemed to burn through the rough fabric of his waistcoat. This close her green eyes were enormous, and he could see shards of gold surrounding her pupils.