Quotes About Intrigue

pudo terminar la frase: el hombre la agarró del brazo y tiró de ella con fuerza al interior de la vivienda, arrastrándola hasta un amplio salón, también en la penumbra.

Tell me something wicked.

And for the rest of the night, he couldn't quite forget the smell of her perfume. Or maybe it was the soft sound of her chuckle. Or maybe it was neither of those things. Maybe it was just her.

Did you wonder?" he whispered. "Did you leave me and wonder what I hadn't told you?" He leaned in, just so she'd feel his lips move whisper-light against her ear. "Did you want to know what I did when I was wicked? Do you want me to tell you?" he murmured. He felt her jerk slightly in surprise, and he chuckled. "Not about them, Francesca. You. Only you." -Michael Stirling

You are not going to waltz in here and distract me with a clever phrase and a beguiling smile." "You think my smile is beguiling?

Not that I knew who you were until last month. But now that I've got you, I'm not letting you go." "You're not?" Blake stared at her in irritated confusion. What was her game? "Do you think I'm an idiot?" he spat out. "No," she said. "I've just escaped from a den of idiots, so I'm well familiar with the breed, and you're something else entirely. I am, however, hoping you're not a terribly good shot.

When the dead body said, "Good evening," Annabel had to face the grim conclusion that it wasn't as dead as she'd hoped.

Eloiseis getting married as well." "Eloise?" Michael asked with some surprise. "Was she even being courted by anyone?" "No," Francesca said, quickly flipping to the third sheet of her mother"s letter. "It"s someone she"s never met." "Well, I imagine she"s met him now," Michael said in a dry voice.

Click. The door swung open. "Three," James said with a slightly self-satisfied smile. "Well done," Caroline said. He smiled back at her. "I've never met a woman or a lock that didn't love me.

He was a puzzle. And Hyacinth hated puzzles. Well, no, in truth she loved them. Provided, of course, that she solved them.

It was nearly impossible to keep anything a secret, especially from her sisters, the youngest of whom—Hyacinth—could probably have won the war against Napoleon in half the time if His Majesty had only thought to draft her into the espionage service.

What part of his being hunched over a sheaf of papers was so interesting to her? Because that was all he had been doing all week. Perhaps he ought to liven up the spectacle. Really, it would be the kind thing to do. She had to be bored silly. He could jump on his desk and sing. Take a bite of food and pretend to choke. What would she do, then? Now that would be an interesting moral dilemma.

Every time he thought he knew everything about her, had unwillingly memorized every last detail, something inside her flickered and changed, and he felt himself falling anew.

I suggest," Colin said, raising one brow into a perfectly debonair arch, "that we flee the scene.

What are you doing here?"Lady Vickers asked, turning her frosty glare to Sebastian. "Exactly what you think, my lady," he said.

You'll marry the earl and carry on with the nephew on the side." "Grandmother!

Tarryton did so, but not before saying, "I wouldn't be surprised if Billington came up to scratch on this gel." "Billington, Farnsworth, and a few others," Alex said with his most affable smile. "Ashbourne?" Dunford's voice was colder than ice. "Dunford?" "Shut up.

He sighed, wondering how his life had been turned upside down by this woman in less than forty-eight hours. Correction: by this woman, a pig, and a rabbit.

How many great mysteries are there in life, really?" No one answered, so Colin guessed, "Forty-two?" She

One would think her tired mind would go utterly blank, but the opposite was true. She could not stop thinking about the highwayman. And his kiss. And his identity. And his kiss. And if she would meet him again. And that he'd kissed her. And-

The first time you've been tied up?" He hesitated. She gasped. "Captain Ja— " "In this manner," he said quickly. And with great volume and emphasis, as if he needed to cut off her query about as much as he needed, for example, air. Her eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?" "Don't ask that question.

There were always whispers. And whispers, if left unchecked, could quickly grow into roars.

He didn't know her name, didn't know anything about her except that she dreamed of Rome and smelled like violets. And that she tasted like vanilla cream.

was the last person he wanted to see right now. Even the ghost of Napoleon, come down to slice a rapier through his gullet, would have been preferable.