It might’ve been my fichu."
-Patricia to Lucy about her engagement to vicar Penweeble.
Mots clés lucy elizabeth-hoyt paticia
I’m leaving.” Her cold lips barely moved as she mouthed the words.
Horror fisted around his vitals. “No.”
For the first time she met his eyes. Hers were red-rimmed but dry. “I have to leave,Simon.”
“No.” He was a little boy denied a sweet. He felt like falling down and screaming.
“Let me go.”
“I can’t let you go.” He half laughed here in the too-bright, cold London sun before his own
house. “I’ll die if I do.”
She closed her eyes. “No, you won’t. I can’t stay and watch you tear yourself apart.”
“Lucy.”
“Let me go, Simon. Please.” She opened her eyes, and he saw infinite pain in her gaze.
Had he done this to his angel? Oh, God. He unclasped his hands.
Mots clés lucy elizabeth-hoyt the-serpent-prince simondabomb
... You are the closest I will ever come to heaven, either here on Earth or in the afterlife, and I will not regret it, not even at the cost of your tears.
So I go to my grave an unrepentant sinner, I’m afraid. There is no use in mourning one such as I, dearest...
-Simon to Lucy in a letter before the last duel.
Mots clés lucy elizabeth-hoyt the-serpent-prince simondabomb
I’m sorry.”
She bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to cry. At the same time, she was oddly touched by his apology.
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
Something tore quite explicitly, and she inhaled but didn’t make a sound.
He opened his eyes, looking stricken and hot and savage. “Oh, God, sweetheart. I promise it
will be better next time.” He kissed the corner of her mouth softly. “I promise.”
She concentrated on steadying her breath and hoped he would finish very soon. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but this was no longer pleasant for her.
He parted his mouth over hers and licked her bottom lip. “I’m sorry.
Mots clés lucy elizabeth-hoyt simondababe the-serpent-prince
She heard him close the door. “I was going to impress you with my romantic eloquence, of course. I’d thought to wax philosophical about the beauty of your brow.”
Lucy blinked. “My brow?”
“Mmm. Have I told you that your brow intimidates me?” She felt his warmth at her back as he moved behind her, but he didn’t touch her. “It’s so smooth and white and broad, and ends with your straight, knowing eyebrows, like a statue of Athena pronouncing judgment. If the warrior goddess had a brow like yours, it is no wonder the ancients worshiped and feared her.”
“Blather,” she murmured.
“Blather, indeed. Blather is all I am, after all.”
She frowned and turned to contradict him, but he moved with her so that she couldn’t quite catch sight of his face.
“I am the duke of nonsense,” he whispered in her ear. “The king of farce, the emperor of emptiness.”
Did he really see himself so? “But—”
“Blathering is what I do best,” he said, still unseen. “I’d like to blather about your golden eyes and ruby lips.”
“Simon—”
“The perfect curve of your cheek,” he murmured close.
She gasped as his breath stirred the hair at her neck. He was distracting her with lovemaking. And it was working. “What a lot of talk.”
“I do talk too much. It’s a weakness you’ll have to bear in your husband.” His voice was next to her ear. “But I’d have to spend quite a bit of time outlining the shape of your mouth, its
softness and the warmth within.
-Simon to Lucy on their wedding night.
Mots clés lucy elizabeth-hoyt simondababe the-serpent-prince
My darling Lucy.” He panted against her ear, and then his teeth scraped her earlobe. “I love you,” he whispered. “Don’t ever leave me.
Elizabeth HoytMots clés lucy elizabeth-hoyt simondababe the-serpent-prince
Lucy swayed in shock. A gust of wind moaned through the conservatory and blew out all but one of her candles. Simon must have done this. He’d destroyed his fairyland conservatory. Why? She sank to her knees, huddled on the cold floor, her one remaining
flame cradled in her numb palms. She’d seen how tenderly Simon had cared for his plants. Remembered the look of pride when she’d first discovered the dome and fountain. For him to have smashed all this . . .
He must have lost hope. All hope.
Mots clés lucy elizabeth-hoyt the-serpent-prince
I watched you for years,” she whispered. The tears were drying on her cheeks, and heat was building within her. If he would just touch her. Touch her there. “I watched you and you never saw me.
Elizabeth HoytMots clés elizabeth-hoyt jasper melisande to-seduce-a-sinner
The lengths to which you’re prepared to go to please a housekeeper make me wonder about the servant situation in Scotland. Good help must be thin on the ground.” Vale widened his eyes and took a drink.
“She’s more to me than a housekeeper,” Alistair growled.
“Wonderful!” Vale slapped him on the back. “And about time, too. I was beginning to worry that all your important bits might’ve atrophied and fallen off from disuse.”
He felt unaccustomed heat climb his throat. “Vale…
Mots clés hilarious munroe vale
Sophia looked down her long nose at the girl. “Who are you?”
“I’m Abigail, ma’am,” she said, curtsying. “This is my brother, Jamie. I apologize for him.”
Sophia arched an eyebrow. “I’ll wager you do that quite a lot.”
Abigail sighed, sounding world-weary. “Yes, I do.”
“Good girl.” Sophia almost smiled. “Younger brothers can be a chore sometimes, but one must persevere.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Abigail said solemnly.
“Come on, Jamie,” Alistair said. “Let’s go into dinner before they form a Society for Bossy Older Sisters.
Mots clés elizabeth-hoyt bossysisters hihihi to-beguile-a-beast
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