Lisa Kleypas Quotes - Page 3

But no one can predict of a certainty what will happen. And none of it will change how I intend to spend the rest of my life. I will live it on my terms. And you... you can have all of me or nothing. I won't be an invalid any longer. Not even if it means losing you.

You don’t annoy me.” Carefully he rebuttoned the placket of her shirt. “I thought you did, at first. But now I realize it was more like the feeling you get when your foot’s been asleep. And when you start moving, the blood coming back into it is uncomfortable . . . but also good. Do you understand what I mean?”“Yes. I make your feet tingle.”A smile came to his lips. “Among other things.

Love me?” Madeline asked with a faint smile. “It used to be love.” He brushed his lips over her closed eyelids. “Now there's no word for it.” “You once told me that you thought love was a weakness.” “I was wrong,” he whispered, kissing the corners of her mouth. “I've discovered it's my only strength.

I’m fairly certain, Captain,” she said, “that the more you discover about me, the more you will dislike me. Therefore, let’s cut to the chase and acknowledge that we don’t like each other. Then we won’t have to bother with the in-between part.”She was so bloody frank and practical about the whole thing that Christopher couldn’t help but be amused.“I’m afraid I can’t oblige you.”“Why not?”“Because when you said that just now, I found myself starting to like you.”“You’ll recover,” she said.Her decisive tone made him want to smile. “It’s getting worse, actually,” he told her. “Now I’m absolutely convinced that I like you.”Beatrix gave him a patently skeptical stare. “What about my hedgehog? Do you like her, too?”Christopher considered that. “Affection for rodents can’t be rushed.”“Medusa isn’t a rodent. She’s an erinaceid.

I’ve won his heart, but it’s like owning a house in which most of the doors are permanently locked. He wants to shield me from all unpleasantness. And it’s not really marriage—not like the marriage you have with Cam—until he’s willing to share the worst of himself as well as the best of himself.

A sixty - eight, he wants you to go down on him but he won't return the favor. It would be sixty-nine but he owes you one.

Annabelle, what happened to you?” Lillian asked the next morning. “You look dreadful. Why aren’t you wearing your riding habit? I thought you were going to try out the jumping course this morning. And why did you disappearso suddenly last night? It’s not like you to simply vanish without saying—”“I didn’t have a choice in the matter,” Annabelle said testily, folding her fingers around the delicate bowl of a porcelain teacup. Looking pale and exhausted, her blue eyes ringed with dark shadows, she swallowed a mouthful of heavily sweetened tea before continuing. “It was that blasted perfume of yours—as soon as he caught one whiff of it, he went berserk.”Shocked, Lillian tried to take in the information, her stomach plummeting. “It… it had an effect on Westcliff, then?” she managed to ask.“Good Lord, not Lord Westcliff.” Annabelle rubbed her weary eyes. “He couldn’t have cared less what I smelled like. It was my husband who went completely mad. After he caught the scent of that stuff, he dragged me up to our room and…well, suffice it to say, Mr. Hunt kept me awake all night. All night ,” she repeated in sullen emphasis, and drank deeply of the tea.“Doing what?” Daisy asked blankly.Lillian, who was feeling a rush of relief that Lord Westcliff had not been attracted to Annabelle while shewas wearing the perfume, gave her younger sister a derisive glance. “What do you think they were doing? Playing a few hands of Find-the-Lady?

Win told me that one isn’t improved by being at the top of the mountain, one is improved by the climb.

Many times in life I've regretted the things I've said without thinking. But I've never regretted the things I said nearly as much as the words I left unspoken.

You think you want me now. But you'll change. Someday you'll find it damned easy to forget about me. I'm a bastard. A servant, and not even an upper servant at that--""You're the other half of me." (Again The Magic)

We assured Phelan that we were more than happy to let him have you and your menagerie,” Leo retorted.“After that, he said he needed to think.”“About what?” Beatrix demanded. “What is there to think about? Why is it taking him so long to make a decision?”“He’s a man, dear,” Amelia explained kindly. “Sustained thinking is very difficult for them.

Daisy pulled away from Swift’s grasp. “You’ve changed,” she said, trying to collect herself. “You haven’t,” he replied. It was impossible to tell whether the remark was intended as compliment or criticism. “What were you doing at the well?” “I was…I thought…” Daisy searched in vain for a sensible explanation, but could think of nothing. “It’s a wishing well.” His expression was solemn, but there was a suspicious flicker in his vivid blue eyes as if he were secretly amused. “You have this on good authority, I take i

You thought I was peculiar,” she said in a muffled voice.His mouth brushed the edge of her ear and settled against her neck. She felt that he was smiling. “Darling love… you are.

Despite his flaws, one has to admit that he is a whale-sized catch.”“I’ll be thrilled when someone harpoons him,” Lillian muttered, making the other two laugh.

We men had a meeting a long time ago, and we all decided, 'It's trousers'. And that's what we've worn ever since.

The look of experience suited him, especially because somewhere deep in those eyes, there still lurked a dangerous invitation to play. He had a quality of masculine confidence that was a thousand times more potent than mere handsomeness. Perfect goodlooks could leave you cold, but this kind of sexy charisma went straight to your knees. -Haven Travis

My heart only beats as an echo of yours.

There isn’t going to be a ‘next lover,’” Grant said automatically, outraged by the idea. “I’m the only man she’s going to have.

I’m going to take Charity to France. I can look after her there. You can go on with your life here, and I won’t be here to … to bother anyone.”He muttered two quiet words.“What?” she asked in bewilderment, inching forward to hea

Damn it. What are we exactly calling a 'masculine problem'? Did he have trouble running the flag up? Or did it fall to half staff?"Do we have to speak about this metaphorically or-""Yes," Leo said firmly."All right. He..." Poppy frowned in concentration as she searched for the right words, "... left me while the flag was still flying.

My mistakes are usually so enjoyable that I tend torepeat them.

They reached the summit of a shallow incline and were greeted with a surprising vista of bluebells that blanketed the forest floor. It was like stumbling into a dream, the cerulean haze seeping between the trunks of oak and beech and ash. The smell of bluebells was everywhere, the perfumed air feeling heavy and rich in her lungs.Pausing by a slender tree trunk, Annabelle curled her arm around it loosely and stared at the stands of bluebells with surprised pleasure. "Lovely," she murmured, her face gleaming in the shadow cast by the canopy of ancient, interlaced branches."Yes." But Hunt was looking at her, not the bluebells, and one glance at his expression caused the blood to tingle in her veins.

Sturm und Drang?”“Ah…I see that I’ll have to introduce you to the finer points of German literature. It means passionate turmoil—literally translated, ‘storm and stress.’

Marriage would change hardly anything between us, except that we would end our arguments in a much more satisfying way. And of course I would have extensive legal rights over your body, your property, and all your individual freedoms, but I don't see what's so alarming about that.

Westcliff sees an odd sort of logic in why you would finally be the one to win St. Vincent’s heart. He says a girl like you would appeal to…hmm, how did he put it?…I can’t remember the exact words, but it was something like…you would appeal to St. Vincent’s deepest, most secret fantasy.” Evie felt her cheeks flushing while a skirmish of pain and hope took place in the tired confines of her chest. She tried to respond sardonically. “I should think his fantasy is to consort with as many women as possible.” A grin crossed Lillian’s lips. “Dear, that is not St. Vincent’s fantasy, it’s his reality. And you’re probably the first sweet, decent girl he’s ever had anything to do with.” “He spent quite a lot of time with you and Daisy in Hampshire,” Evie countered. That seemed to amuse Lillian further. “I’m not at all sweet, dear. And neither is my sister. Don’t say you have been laboring under that misconception all this time?

What you should really be sorry for," he continued, "is that for the rest of my life, I'll have to avoid wine cellars to keep from thinking about you.""Why? Was kissing me that bad?"A devil-solf whisper. "No sweetheart. It was that good.

Would it help,” he asked gently, “to have a shoulder to cry on?” She fought to conceal how much the question unnerved her. “Thank you, but no.” Carefully she dropped the herbs into the kettle. “Crying is a waste of time.” “‘ To weep is to make less the depth of grief.’” “Is that a Romany saying?” “Shakespeare.

He turned back to Lara, his alert gaze raking over her tearful face. Somehow the solid reality of his presence eased her panic. He folded her in his arms, anchoring her against his chest, murmuring quietly into her hair.Sniffling, Lara reached inside his waistcoat until her palm rested over the steady beat of his heart. The sensation of his warm breath sinking down to her scalp me her quiver. It was so terribly intimate, crying in his arms... even more personal than making love. But he had never felt so much like a husband to her as he did in this moment. Quieting, she inhaled his familiar scent and let out a shaky sigh.

How kind of you to pay us a call, Uncle,” came the biting lash of Sebastian’s voice. “Come to offer us felicitations, have you?” “I’ve come to collect my niece,” Peregrine snarled. “She is promised to my son. Your illicit marriage will not stan

So you actually need spectacles,” Leo finally said.“Of course I do,” Marks said crossly. “Why would I wear spectacles if I didn’t need them?”“I thought they might be part of your disguise.”“My disguise?”“Yes, Marks, disguise. A noun describing a means of concealing someone’s identity. Often used by clowns and spies. And now apparently governesses. Good God, can anything be ordinary for my family?

Cat doesn’t have to work. She’s a woman of independent means. I settled enough money on her to allow her the freedom to do anything she wished. She went to boarding school for four years, and stayed to teach for another two. Eventually she came to me and said she’d accepted a position as a governess for the Hathaway family. I believe you were in France with Win at the time. Cat went for the interview, Cam and Amelia liked her, Beatrix and Poppy clearly needed her, and no one seemed inclined to question her lack of experience.”“Of course not,” Leo said acidly. “My family would never bother with something so insignificant as job experience. I’m sure they started the interview by asking what her favorite color was.

What do ladies wear beneath their riding trousers?""I would think an infamous rake would already know.""I was never infamous. In fact, I'm fairly standard as far as rakes go.""The ones who deny it are the worst.

When you are in love' hypocrisy won over principle.

Dont worry" Emma said "There are worse things than having your heart broken.""Like What?" Zoe asked skeptically."Never having it broken. Never giving in to love

She felt tears slip from beneath her lashes, no matter how she tried to blink them back. Her heart was ablaze. It seemed that her entire life had led to this man, this moment of unexpressed love.

I wonder how Merripen is faring,” Win said, her blue eyes soft with concern. Merripen, the cook-maid, and the footman had gone to the house two days earlier to prepare for the Hathaways’ arrival. “No doubt he’s been working ceaselessly day and night,” Amelia replied, “taking inventory, rearranging everything in sight, and issuing commands to people who don’t dare disobey him. I’m sure he’s quite happy.

I’ve lowered my character with a great deal of unwholesome reading material.

You’re far too prickly tempered to be a mistress. You’re far better suited as a wife.

I'll follow you to the next life if I have to," he whispered harshly in her ear. "You'll never be free of me. I'll chase you through heaven and hell and beyond." He continued to whisper without stopping while his hands gripped her body close to his. "You stay with me, Holly," he muttered savagely. "Don't do this to me. You stay, damn you.

A man's vanity is more fragile that you might think. It's easy for us to mistake shyness for coldness, and silence for indifference.

St. Vincent and I didn't expect to fall in love. It caught us both unaware.""Yes, but how did you know?""It was the moment I realized he was willing to die for me. I don't think anyone, including St. Vincent, believed he was capable of self-sacrifice. It taught me that you can assume you know a person quite well- but that person can s-surprise you. Everything seemed to change from one moment to the next- suddenly he became the most important thing in the world to me.

Beatrix, do you know what happens to girls who ask such naughty questions?”“They’re ravished in haylofts?” she inquired hopefully.

I didn't want to give you the one last part of myself that I couldn't take back. And then you were gone... And I realized it was already yours. It had been since the beginning. Except that I hadn't told you. It drove me mad, the thought that you would never know.

You took Theo's title and his home," West continued in appalled disbelief, "and now you want his wife.""His widow," Devon muttered."Have you seduced her?""Not yet."West clapped his hand to his forehead. "Christ. Don't you think she's suffered enough?

Most men don't seem to get that telling a pissed-off woman to calm down is like throwing gunpowder on a fire.” ~ Liberty Jones

Books were everywhere, lined neatly on shelves that went from floor to ceiling. The ceiling was two stories high, with an upper balcony that provided access to a second-floor gallery. The dazzling array of red, gold, green, and brown bindings was a feast for the eyes, while the wonderful smells of vellum, parchment, and pungent leather almost caused Amanda to salivate. An exquisite waft of tea leaves lingered in the air. For anyone who enjoyed the pursuit of reading, this place surely was paradise.

It's a fine thing to be clever, but too much cleverness usually produces the same result as ignorance.-Lady Berwick

Dearest," she murmured, "as you know, there was a time when it didn't matter to me whether I married a man I loved or not... it seemed enough just to get my family out of the desperate situation we were in. But when I thought about what it would be like to share a bed with my husband... to spend the rest of my life with him... I knew Simon was the only choice." She paused, and sudden tears glittered her eyes. Beautiful, self-possessed Annabelle, who hardly ever cried. "When I'm ill," she continued in a husky voice, "when I'm afraid, when I need something, I know he will move heaven and earth to make everything all right. I trust him with every fiber of my being. And when I see the child we created, the two of us mingled forever in her... my God, how grateful I am that I married Simon.

It was a kiss to level mountains and shake stars from the sky. It was a kiss to make angels faint and demons weep...a passionate, demanding, soul-searing kiss that nearly knocked the earth off its axis.

No marriage stays in the same pattern forever. It is both the best feature of marriage and the worst, that it inevitably changes.

I’m tired of sitting. I’m tired of watching everyone else work. I can set my own limits, Amelia. Let me do as I wish.” “No.” Incredulously Amelia watched as Win picked up a broom from the corner. “Win, put that down and stop being silly!” Annoyance whipped through her. “You’re not going to help anyone by expending all your reserves on menial tasks.” “I can do it.” Win gripped the broom handle with both hands as if she sensed Amelia was on the verge of wrenching it away from her. “I won’t overtax myself.” “Put down the broom.” “Leave me alone,” Win cried. “Go dust something!” “Win, if you don’t—” Amelia’s attention was diverted as she saw her sister’s gaze fly to the kitchen threshold. Merripen stood there, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. Although it was early morning, he was already dusty and perspiring, his shirt clinging to the powerful contours of his chest and waist. He wore an expression they knew well—the implacable one that meant you could move a mountain with a teaspoon sooner than change his mind about something. Approaching Win, he extended a broad hand in a wordless demand. They were both motionless. But even in their stubborn opposition, Amelia saw a singular connection, as if they were locked in an eternal stalemate from which neither wanted to break free. Win gave in with a helpless scowl. “I have nothing to do.” It was rare for her to sound so peevish. “I’m sick of sitting and reading and staring out the window. I want to be useful. I want…” Her voice trailed away as she saw Merripen’s stern face. “Fine, then. Take it!” She tossed the broom at him, and he caught it reflexively. “I’ll just find a corner somewhere and quietly go mad. I’ll—” “Come with me,” Merripen interrupted calmly. Setting the broom aside, he left the room. Win exchanged a perplexed glance with Amelia, her vehemence fading. “What is he doing?” “I have no idea.” The sisters followed him down a hallway to the dining room, which was spattered with rectangles of light from the tall multipaned windows that lined one wall. A scarred table ran down the center of the room, every available inch covered with dusty piles of china … towers of cups and saucers, plates of assorted sizes sandwiched together, bowls wrapped in tattered scraps of gray linen. There were at least three different patterns all jumbled together. “It needs to be sorted,” Merripen said, gently nudging Win toward the table. “Many pieces are chipped. They must be separated from the rest.” It was the perfect task for Win, enough to keep her busy but not so strenuous that it would exhaust her. Filled with gratitude, Amelia watched as her sister picked up a teacup and held it upside down. The husk of a tiny dead spider dropped to the floor. “What a mess,” Win said, beaming. “I’ll have to wash it, too, I suppose.” “If you’d like Poppy to help—” Amelia began. “Don’t you dare send for Poppy,” Win said. “This is my project, and I won’t share it.” Sitting at a chair that had been placed beside the table, she began to unwrap pieces of china.

Don't ever trust men with good intentions. They'll always disappoint you."Leo

Where are we going?” Annabelle asked, resisting his hold on her wrist.“To the house. If they’re not willing to be witnesses, then it seems I’ll have to debauch you in front of someone else.

Alone-sex didn't count. It's like the difference between thinking to yourself or having a good conversation with someone----the pleasure is in the exchange." -Liberty Jones

Mysteries of attraction could not always be explained through logic. Sometimes the fractures in two separate souls became the very hinges that held them together.

Morality is only for the middle class, sweet. The lower class can't afford it, and the upper classes have entirely too much leisure time to fill

Take too much time, and time will take you.

I spent most of my youth hauling sides of beef and pork to my father's shop. Carrying you is far more enjoyable.""How sweet," Annabelle mumbled sickly, her eyes closed. "Every woman dreams of being told that she's preferable to a dead cow.

Scorpions are quite ruthless, you know. That is why Artemis bid one of them to kill her foe Orion. And as a reward she set the scorpion on up in the sky. I'm not ruthless. I merely do whatever it takes to achive my goalsThat's not ruthless?

They (mothers-in-law) never leave when they say they will. When my mother-in-law visits, the mice throw themselves at the cat, begging to be eaten.