Quotes About Intrigue

Later she would think about how he'd snuck up on her so silently. The man was on crutches - what was he, a ninja or something?

The tourmaline eyes were both grave and wicked, and Violet felt herself blushing.

I'd seen the way he watched Felix when he thought nobody was paying attention, and it was the kind of look that makes your skin crawl. He laid traps for Felix, too, cunning things that Felix waltzed right out of without seeming to see. Sometimes you could almost hear Lord Shannon's teeth grinding.

Felix, you see, doesn't need to worry about who Lord Stephen marries. And that must gnaw at Robert's dry little soul like a rat.

The history of Mélusine is like a massacre in a lunatic asylum, patients and wardens turning on each other, turning on themselves, and turn and turn about.

The eye sockets of their skulls are dark, like they've got all the night inside their heads.

Malkar's suite was in the part of the Mirador called Fra Barbarossa, still lavish with the tastes of long-dead Ophidian kings. The walls were faced with white marble and hung with gold brocade. Statues of ancient heroes stood in niches, watching me with painted eyes. I knew all their names, all their histories, and their very indifference woke me, alarmed me, and I was caught frozen, able to neither walk forward into Hell nor to turn and walk away.

There is a terrible weight to that never from Malkar Gennadion, who is also Brinvillier Strych-and who knows how many other names he may have had? Who knows how many lives he may have held and used and discarded, how many other lives he may have left ruined in his wake? I wonder if even Malkar himself knows any longer.

She was tall, slender, lithe. She wore her hair in smooth black curls around the perfect oval of her face, and her eyes were pale gray, the color of fog. She wore the clothes of a lady with neither apology not discomfort, dark purple poplin trimmed with black lace, high-necked and formfitting with a great swag of bustle behind. She saw us and made her way across the room without hesitation.

Not those qualities! she wanted to shout. Why were men so basic? Why did they only ever think about one thing—sex? Well, actually, it was two things. Sex and power. Forget everything else—they seemed to be the only two things that motivated the male species. And normally she didn't even think about sex. So why was it that, since the Sultan's bodyguard had removed his fencing mask and revealed his impossibly handsome face, she'd thought about little else?

Nico Rossi wasn't a good boy. He was a bad boy dressed in a good suit.

That's when it hit me. I scrambled to his side of the bed in haste, silently opened the bedside drawer and located the box of matches he had used to light the candle.

She watched Trey nod his head to her question before asking, "Would you like to see what I retrieved from my bag? I promise you'll love it and beg for more.

He's definitely one of those men you love before you get to know.

I might be weary or stupid; I might be nauseous with drink; I might be sore, at the hips, with the ache of my monthlies, but the opening of this box, as I have said, never ceased to stir me - I was like a dog twitching and slavering to hear his mistress call out Bone!

She said that; and I knew then that, careful as I have been—still and secret and silent as I have been, in my high room—she has been watching me, as Miss Ridley watches, and Miss Haxby.

and claws of creeping foxes.

We were thinking of secrets. Real secrets, and snide. Too many to count. When I try now to sort out who knew what and who knew nothing, who knew everything and who was a fraud, I have to stop and give it up, it makes my head spin.

Some time in the night I woke, and the barn was full of cows: they stood in a circle and looked us over, and one of them coughed like a man. Don't tell me that's natural.

seen something in their poses, for, 'Spoony!

It's a curious, wanting thing.

What the hell was an acquisitions consultant? An arms dealer? A white slave trader?

Max always mumbles; not in a shy way, but rather as if he's telling you what it will cost to take out your worst enemy, or how much you'd have to pay to rig a horse race.

There's something romantic about it, of course, in the way only other people's lives can be.