Elizabeth Hoyt Quotes & Sayings

He built a tower to try and be closer to her and walled himself inside."
She stared at him for a moment as if waiting for something. "And?"
He glanced at her, puzzled. "And, what?"
She widened her eyes. "How does the story end? Did the sorcerer win his Moon Maiden?"
"Of course not," he said irritably. "She lived on the moon and was quite unattainable. I suppose he must've starved or pined away or fallen off the wall at some point. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Percy romped up and dropped a sadly mangled, dead frog at her feet, then backed away and sat proudly by his prize, looking at Miss Greaves as if expecting praise. She absently ruffled the spaniel's ears. — Elizabeth Hoyt

I love you," he whispered as he thrust again. And again. Each movement controlled. Each small movement devastating in its effect. "I love you."
She lost all concept of time. She lost her place and surroundings. She couldn't remember who he was - who she was. She lost her mind. — Elizabeth Hoyt

She gasped again and opened blue eyes lit with erotic mischief. "Are you trying to steal the reins from me?"
Even with his penis buried deep within her, even moments from climax, he arched an eyebrow. "You have them only by my permission. — Elizabeth Hoyt

But you must be awash in a sea of compliments, my lady. Every gentleman you meet must voice his admiration, his wish to make love to you. And those are only the ones who may voice such thoughts. All about you are men who cannot speak their admiration, who must remain mute from lack of social standing or fear of offending you. Only their thoughts light the air about you, following you like a trail of perfume, heady but invisible. (Winter Makepeace) — Elizabeth Hoyt

That thought - that she was carrying his babe - steadied him enough to start off again. It was a strange but not unwelcome feeling to know that she carried his child. That someday she would hold a babe against her pretty white breast and that the child would be part of him as well.
For the first time in a very long while, he yearned to see tomorrow. — Elizabeth Hoyt

He rose up over her, his arms straight on either side of her shoulders, and slowly withdrew, his flesh dragging against hers.
He was hot and hard.
She spread her thighs, reveling in this lush feeling, his thrusts blunt and hard now, pounding into her body.
And still he watched her, the green of his eyes slivers of want, demanding something of her. Something she was no longer willing to give, it was just too much.
When at last she came, her breaths hitching and halting, her legs trembling, her sex pulsing with every push of his cock, she watched him. She saw when he gritted his teeth, his lips drawn back in need and pleasure.
He shouted her name, loud in her quiet bedroom, as his big body jerked and plunged and emptied itself in her. — Elizabeth Hoyt

As I said, I don't expect you to understand - "
"And I don't," he cut in. "Ye ask how I can live a life that I know will end with the hangman's noose. Well, at least I am alive. Ye might as well have climbed inside yer husband's coffin and let yerself be buried with his corpse."
Her hand flashed out before she'd thought about it, the smack against his cheek loud in the little courtyard.
Silence had her eyes locked with Michael's, her chest rising and falling swiftly, but she was aware that Bert and Harry had looked up. Even Mary and Lad had paused in their play.
Without taking his gaze from hers, Michael reached out and grasped her hand. He raised her hand to his lips and softly kissed the center of her palm.
He looked at her, her hand still at his lips. "Don't take to yer grave afore yer time, Silence, m'love. — Elizabeth Hoyt

She watched his chest rise and fall and remembered and reflected. All her life things had been taken from her: Apollo, Thomas's affection, Mama and Papa, her home, her future. No one had ever asked her opinion, garnered her thoughts on what she wanted or needed. Things had been done to her, but she'd never had the chance to do things. Like a doll on a shelf, she'd been moved about, manipulated, flung aside. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Excuse me, but I believe you have my lady, one of them said in a quiet, deep voice that sent veritable chills down George's spine.
Harry. — Elizabeth Hoyt

She swallowed and licked her lips. "It's rather good."
He laughed breathlessly. Have care, part of his brain whispered. This way only leads to pain. But his c*ck was pressing hard against the placket of his breeches and he wanted to take her hand and draw her away to his rooms and keep her there until she learned to scream in pleasure.
Until she screamed his name and no other. — Elizabeth Hoyt

It took a moment to recognize Timothy ... her first love. There had been a time when the mere sight of his handsome face had made her catch her breath. It had taken her years to recover from losing Timothy. Now the pain of his loss was muted and somehow apart from her, as if a broken engagement had happened to some other young, naive girl. She looked at him, and all she could think was, Thank Goodness. Thank goodness she's escaped marrying him. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Every word you have ever uttered, is engraved upon my heart. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Overhead the moon guided him, his fair mistress, his unattainable lover. — Elizabeth Hoyt

You're after my sister's money."
"You see no other reason for me to seek the company of Lady Georgina?"
"I
"
"I wonder if you realize how close you are to insulting my lady," Harry said. — Elizabeth Hoyt

What are you looking for?" she asked abruptly. "It's rather rude for a gentleman to enter a lady's room without permission."
"I'm not a gentleman."
"Really? I thought otherwise. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Edward got up from his desk, limped across to hers, and placed both hands, palms down, upon it. He leaned over until his eyes were only inches from her hazel ones. "I am not ashamed," he said very slowly. "I did not fall off my horse. I was not thrown from my horse. I wish to end this discussion. Is that amenable to you, Mrs. Wren?" Anna swallowed visibly, drawing his eyes to her throat. "Yes. Yes, that's quite amenable to me, Lord Swartingham." "Good." His gaze rose to her lips, wet where she had licked them in her nervousness. "I thought of you while I was gone. Did you think of me? Did you miss me?" "I - " she started to whisper. — Elizabeth Hoyt

No, the Duke of Wakefield would never be a darling of the feminine members of society. Something about him was so opposite to female that he almost repelled the softer sex. — Elizabeth Hoyt

She rose and walked to the small fireplace, where a kettle had been set long before supper. It was gently steaming now. She caught up a rag and reached for the handle, but another, much bigger, hand got there first. Lily gave a tiny jump, watching wide-eyed as Caliban picked up the hot kettle as easily as lifting a twig. At least he'd had enough sense to shield his palm from the heat with a rag. He stood blank-faced until she pulled herself together. "In here." She stepped gingerly around his bulk and led him into the little bedroom. A tin hip bath was waiting, laid beside the bed on some old cloths. It was already half full of cold water. "You can pour it in there." He lifted the hem of his shirt to hold the bottom of the kettle and she caught an unsettling flash of his stomach. Hastily she looked away, her cheeks heating. — Elizabeth Hoyt

She swallowed, watching as the servants and Harry and Bert trooped out of the room. Lad, apparently not the brightest dog in the world, sat down next to Mickey O'Connor and leaned against his leg.
Mr. O'Connor looked at the dog, looked at the damp spot growing on his breeches where the dog was leaning, and sighed. "I find me life is not as quiet as it used to be afore ye came to me palace, Mrs. Hollingbrook."
Silence lifted her chin. "You're a pirate, Mr. O'Connor. I cannot believe your life was ever very quiet."
He gave her an ironic look. "Aye, amazin', isn't it? Yet since yer arrival me servants no longer obey me and I return home to find me kitchen flooded." He crossed to a cupboard and took down a china teapot, a tin of tea, and a teacup. "And me dog smells like a whorehouse."
Silence glanced guiltily at Lad. "The only soap we could find was rose scented. — Elizabeth Hoyt

BUT HOW, EXACTLY, did one go about seducing a husband one hardly knew? — Elizabeth Hoyt

You look pensive," he said quietly, holding his hand out from where he lay on the bed. He wore only his shirt and breeches. She went to him without protest. Why pretend when they really had so little time left together? He gathered her against him, her back to his front, and began plucking the pins from her coiffure. "Have I told you how much I admire your hair?" "It's just plain brown," she murmured. "Plain, lovely brown," he replied, raising a lock he'd freed to his face. "Are you smelling my hair?" she asked in amusement. "Yes." "Silly man," she said lightly. "Smitten man," he corrected, spreading her hair over her shoulders. "I've been watching you today." "In between escorting Miss Royle about the garden?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at him. "Yes. I'd rather it'd been you, but that wouldn't've been prudent." He frowned down at the strands of her hair caught between his fingers. "Or, perhaps, safe. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Just because I don't deserve her doesn't mean I won't fight to keep her. — Elizabeth Hoyt

As for inspiration, I find stark fear of missing the deadline very inspiring. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Each time it was like a stray bit of glass pressed into the softness of her heart, grinding, grinding, oh so silently until she no longer noticed when she bled. — Elizabeth Hoyt

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. — Elizabeth Hoyt

But he place a gentle palm under her chin and turned her face back to him. "I'm privileged to see you like this," he said, his eyes fierce. "Wear you social mask at your balls and parties and when you visit your friends out there, but when we are alone, just the two of us in here, promise me this: that you'll show me only your real face, no matter how ugly you might think it. That's our true intimacy, not sex, but the ability to be ourselves when we are together. (Winter Makepeace) — Elizabeth Hoyt

He shoved his hips against her, reminding her of what they had just done, and said, "I had never bedded a woman before you. I made that plain. Did you think I let you seduce me lightly? No, I did not. You made a deal with me the moment you gave me entry into your body."
"I made no such deal!" Her eyes were angry - and frightened - but he would not let her make him back down.
"Precious Isabel," he whispered. "You made a deal with your heart, your soul, and your body, and you sealed it with the wash of your climax on my c*ck."
She blinked, looking dazed. He'd never used such words before, especially not with her, but their bluntness was necessary. — Elizabeth Hoyt

He looked up. "Is it time already?" She nodded.

He rose and waited as she gathered her things. The dog followed them out the door, but then he bounded down the stairs to the drive. The animal sniffed intently at something on the ground and then rolled, happily rubbing his head and neck in whatever it was.

Lord Swartingham sighed. "I'll have one of the stable boys wash him before he enters the Abbey again."

"Mmm," Anna murmured thoughtfully. "What do you think of 'Adonis'?"

He gave her a look so full of incredulous horror that she was hard-pressed not to laugh. "No, I suppose not," she murmured. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Griffin took one step toward the big desk and swiped his arms across the entire top. Pens, papers, books, a small marbel bust, and an ink well all crashed to the floor.
Griffin leaned across the desk, his arms braced on the now-clear top, and stared into Wakefield's outraged eyes. "We seem to be under a confusion of communication. I did not come here to ask for your sisters hand. I came to tell you I will marry Hero, with or without your permission Your Grace. She has lain with me more than once. She may very well be carrying my child. And if you think I'll give up her or our babe, you have not done nearly enough research into my character or history."
Griffin pushed himself off the desk before the other man could utter a word and storde out the door. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Never sleep anywhere but in my bed." She might have protested, but he turned her roughly so that she lay on her stomach, her cheek pressed into his pillow. He lay on top of her, his upper body braced on his arms but his hips and legs weighing her down. Trapping and holding her. "You're mine," he said, laying his cheek against hers. "Mine and no one else's. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Take it," he growled. "Let me give you this at least. — Elizabeth Hoyt

I must be getting back to my rooms," Silence said and stood.
Mick frowned with displeasure. "Why?"
"Because of Mary Darling."
He shrugged. "One o' the maids is watchin' her."
"But if Mary wakes she'll want me."
"Why?" he asked again, biting into a sweetmeat. This discussion wasn't to his fancy, but sparring with her was.
"Because," she said slowly, looking at him as if he were lack-witted, "she's only a baby and she loves me."
"Babies," Mick pronounced, "are a great trouble."
She shook her head, not bothering to reply this time, and started marching to the door. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Tall, dark fellow with a bit of a manner? Witty and knows it? And a devil with the ladies, he thought but did not say aloud to his sister. — Elizabeth Hoyt

THERE WERE THOSE who compared Bedlam to hell - a writhing purgatory of torture and insanity. But Apollo Greaves, Viscount Kilbourne, knew what Bedlam really was. It was limbo. A place of interminable waiting. — Elizabeth Hoyt

When at last they rose by some unspoken male accord, she noticed with a pang that Indio came only to Caliban's waist. The man towered over the boy, so much taller and broader that his gentleness was all the more moving as a result. They walked to the pond's bank and Indio launched his boat. Caliban restrained Daffodil from jumping in after. This man was not at all like Kitty's husband. Not at — Elizabeth Hoyt

She stood, a little unsteadily, true, but on her own two feet. "It's not my blindness that cripples me, it's everyone else deciding I can't live because of my blindness. If I stumble, if I run into things and fall and hurt myself it's because I can and I'm free to do so, Maximus. Because without that freedom I'm just a dull, chained thing and I won't be that woman anymore. I simply won't, Maximus. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Winter? She traced a circle on his breastbone, her touch — Elizabeth Hoyt

Be that as it may, a gentleman doesn't continue to press his
attentions on a lady who can't return them."
"Then, as I see it, you have two problems, my lord," Harry said.
Tony's eyes narrowed.
"One, that the lady does, in fact, return my attentions, and two" - Harry turned to meet the earl's
gaze - "I am no gentleman. — Elizabeth Hoyt

If looks could kill, Lord d'Arque would be a writhing, bloody mess on the earl's pink marble floor.
Well, this is interesting. She really ought to be contrite. Poor, darling Lord d'Arque hadn't done a thing besides act the rake he'd apparently been born. It wasn't his fault that she'd flirted outrageously with him, triggering his rakish instincts. But there was something terribly satisfying at seeing her husband mentally slaughter another man on her behalf. — Elizabeth Hoyt

One's own family and situation are all one knows as a child. Therefore they are, by default, normal. I thought everyone had a papa who sometimes stayed awake all night writing philosophical papers, only to burn them all in a rage in the morning. It was only when I was old enough to notice that other fathers didn't act like my own that I realized the truth. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Sir?"
"Yes"
"Where do you go at night?"
Winter paused and glanced over his shoulder. Joseph was watching him with perceptive eyes for one so young.
In that instant, Winter grew tired of lies. "I right wrongs."
He expect more questions
Joseph was usually full of them and his answer was too obscure
but the boy merely nodded. "Will you teach me how sometime?"
Winter's eyes widened. Teach him to ... ? His mind instantly balked at the thought of putting Joseph in danger. But were he ever to ask for an apprentice to his Ghost, he knew instinctively that he could find no one with more courage than the lad. — Elizabeth Hoyt

She smiled as she poured tea into his cup. "I hope you find your rooms comfortable?"
"Quite." He took a too-hasty sip of tea and scalded his tongue.
"The view is to your liking?"
He had a view of a brick wall. "Indeed."
She fluttered her eyelashes at him over the rim of her teacup. "And the bed. Is it soft and ... yielding?"
He nearly choked on the bite of cake he'd just taken.
"Or do you prefer a firmer bed?" she asked sweetly. "One that refuses to yield too soon?"
"I think" - he narrowed his eyes at her - "whatever mattress I have on the bed you gave me is perfect. But tell me, my lady, what sort of mattress do you prefer? All soft goose down or one that's a bit ... harder?"
It was very fast, but he saw it: Her gaze flashed down to the juncture of his thighs and then up again. If there hadn't been anything to see there before, there certainly was now.
"Oh, I like a nice stiff mattress," she purred. "Well warmed and ready for a long ride. — Elizabeth Hoyt

I decided long ago that my family absolutely comes first, and I don't regret that. I do, however, sometimes wish I had an extra five hours or so in the day! — Elizabeth Hoyt

He studied her upturned face for a minute. "Please forgive me. I don't want you to hope. If there were any way - " "I know." She got to her feet. "I even understand." She walked briskly to the door. "I came down to get something for Rebecca. She must be wondering what happened to me. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Well, Scarborough cares, doesn't he? Maximus doesn't - not really. No doubt he's a bit compelled by the chase, but if he doesn't win" - she shrugged her shoulders - "he'll simply find another suitable heiress. She - Lady Penelope herself - doesn't really matter to him. And if it comes right down to it, wouldn't you chose passion - however old - over dispassion? — Elizabeth Hoyt

Don't make promises you can't keep — Elizabeth Hoyt

He lowered his head and beat, fists balled, teeth clenched, the roaring in his ears loud and total. He saw only Thomas's bloody face, his brother's mouth moving, saying something, perhaps pleading, and Griffin's heart swelled with gleeful rage.
He'd touched her. He'd hurt her. And for that he deserved to walk upon crippled legs. — Elizabeth Hoyt

There are no heroes on the battlefield, my lady; there are only survivors. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Goggie!" she exclaimed, holding both hands out urgently to Lad, who'd been dozing by the fire.
"By all means," Michael replied amicably, as if he and Mary were having a conversation. "Let's bring the mutt with us, as well. He's almost presentable now that he stinks o' roses. — Elizabeth Hoyt

I write both at home and at coffee shops, and I have a terrible work ethic - I have a tendency to write most of my books right before the deadline. I'm trying to work on that, but so far, I'm not getting any more organized. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Darling," she said and caught his face between her hands, making him meet her eyes. He didn't want to. He didn't like the look in her eyes - a grim determination. "I love you," she whispered and his soul soared until she uttered her next words. "But I must leave you." "No." He clutched at her hips as if he were a child of three refusing to give up his toy sword. "No." "Yes," she replied. — Elizabeth Hoyt

He treasured her, treasured her tears, treasured her love for others. Her heart might even be big enough to fill that empty space in his own chest. Perhaps she could be his heart as well. — Elizabeth Hoyt

He grunted and stirred, withdrawing from her. She only had a moment to be disappointed and then he flipped her to her back and rose over her, powerful and male. He casually parted her legs with his knees and thrust into her again, hot and hard.
She gasped at the swift invasion, the lovely feeling, and then his face was next to hers, his big palms cradling her cheeks.
"What I want," he drawled, "is ye. Nothin' else. — Elizabeth Hoyt

And how closely related to you is Cousin Beatrice?"
Reynaud gave him a look. "Not that close.
"Glad to hear it." Vale dropped into a cushioned chair. "I hope she recovers fully so that you can then propose to her. Because I tell you now, matrimony truly is a blessed state, enjoyed by all men of good sense and halfway adequate bedroom skills."
"Thank you for that edifying thought," Reynaud growled.
Vale waved his glass. "Think nothing of it. I say, you haven't forgotten how to treat a lady in the bedroom, have you?"
"Oh, for God's sake!"
"You've been out of refined society for years and years now. I could give you some pointers, should you need them. — Elizabeth Hoyt

At first she saw only the mess of roots. There wasn't space in there, surely, for a small dog, let alone a man and boy. But as she watched, a huge hand slapped down on the edge. She started for the hole even as Caliban emerged, head and broad shoulders blackened, clutching Indio to his chest like Hephaestus rising from his underworld forge. She'd never seen such a wonderful sight. — Elizabeth Hoyt

He rolled onto her, his body caging hers as if he could cage her heart as well. This woman. His woman. He'd make it all up to her, give her anything she'd wish for, if only she'd never leave him. Behind them, the door to his bedroom opened. "Get out," he growled to whichever servant had dared disturb him. There was a squeak and the door was hastily shut. Below him, Artemis cocked an eyebrow. "That was ill done." He scowled. "Would you like her to witness our coupling? — Elizabeth Hoyt

All her life she'd been warned that men were slaves to their desires, that they held their impulses in barely controlled check. A woman
a lady
must be very, very careful of her actions so she did not put spark to the gunpowder that was a man's libido. — Elizabeth Hoyt

For a moment she lay still in the big bed, blinking sleepily, loath to move.
And then she realized that the angel's song hadn't stopped on her waking.
Silence sat up. The tantalizingly beautiful voice was coming from the half-open door to Mickey O'Connor's room. — Elizabeth Hoyt

The masculine voice was low but clear, capturing the senses, running along the back of her neck like a caress, making her shiver in delight. Artemis very much feared she was gaping. The Duke of Wakefield had a voice to make angels - or devils - weep. It wasn't the type of male voice currently admired - for the high, unnatural voice of the musico was the rage of London at the moment - but his was the sort of voice that would always seduce the ear. Sure and strong, with a vibrating masculinity on the low notes. She could sit and listen to a voice like this for hours. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Good." He straddled her, caging her with his body. "Were it up to me, all of London would know what we do here.
-Griffin to Hero. — Elizabeth Hoyt

What do you want?" There was silence, broken only by a faint rustling. When he opened his eyes she was buttoning his banyan over her chemise. "Nothing, I think," she said to her hands. Then, "My freedom, perhaps." Freedom. He stared. What did freedom mean to such a wild creature? Did she want to be entirely quit of him? "I'll not let you go," he snapped. She glanced up at him and her look was sardonic. "Did I ask you to?" "Artemis - — Elizabeth Hoyt

I think that its out very differences that make us a perfect match," he said, and his jaw moved under his fingertips. "You'd die of boredom with Thomas within a year. If I found a lady with a temper similar to mine, we'd tear each other apart within months. You and I, though, we're like bread and butter."
She snorted. "That's romantic."
"Hush," he said, his voice quivering with laughter, but also with an undertone of gravity. She cradled his jaw as he said, "Bread and butter. The bread provides stability for the butter; the butter gives taste to the bread. Together they're perfect."
Her eye brows drew together. "I'm the bread, aren't I?"
"Sometimes." His voice was a thread of rumbled sound, low and ominous. She could feel his words as they drifted over her palm. "And sometimes I'm the bread and you're the butter. But we go together
you understand that, don't you? — Elizabeth Hoyt

Finally he turned his head toward her face and brushed a kiss over her cheek. I love you and I believe with all my heart that you love me as well. Why can't you say it, Hero? — Elizabeth Hoyt

And if he presses, tell him it's a female matter. That stops any question. — Elizabeth Hoyt

In that moment Apollo resolved that no matter how ridiculous their mating might be, he wasn't going to let her change her mind. She was his now - and if he had any say in the matter, she'd be his always. — Elizabeth Hoyt

No, please don't apologize." She smiled, warmth spreading through her breast as she gathered her courage. Maybe this was the time. "I wanted the kiss just as much as you. As a matter of - " "I'm engaged." "What?" Anna recoiled as if he had struck her. "I'm engaged to be married." Edward grimaced as if in self-disgust or possibly pain. She stood frozen, struggling to comprehend the simple words. A numbness seeped throughout her body, driving out the warmth as if it had never been. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Have you asked the question yet? I'm rather good at it, if I do say to myself. I got three different ladies to agree to marry me while you were gone. Did you know? Some didn't actually make it to the alter, but that's another problem altogether. Perhaps you'd like some pointers on- — Elizabeth Hoyt

The butterfly startled at Mary's gesture and floated up, drifting on the breeze, its wings sparkling blue and bright in the late afternoon sunshine.
Silence watched it, enthralled, and then her eyes met Michael's.
A corner of his mouth cocked up. Welcome home, m'love. — Elizabeth Hoyt

It was no use. Edward rolled his head back against his shoulders, trying to ease the tension. He would have to make a trip to London soon to spend a night or even two at Aphrodite's Grotto. Perhaps after that he could be in his secretary's presence without lustful thoughts taking over his mind. — Elizabeth Hoyt

He pulled back, his chest heaving, and looked at her angrily. "Don't start something you mean to stop." She met his gaze squarely. "I don't mean to stop." His eyes narrowed. "I cannot give you marriage." She'd known. She'd never thought he could - she would've sworn so had she been asked a minute earlier - but his blunt words were an arrow of pain piercing her heart nonetheless. She bared her teeth in a smile. "Have I asked you to?" "No." "And I never shall," she vowed. — Elizabeth Hoyt

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. — Elizabeth Hoyt

What," she barked, "is that?" "We have a guest for supper tonight," Miss Stump replied, and as she glanced back at him he thought he saw a mischievous glint in her eye. "Indio's monster, in fact - though Indio now calls him Caliban." "Caliban?" Maude narrowed her eyes, cocking her head as she examined him critically. "Aye, I can see that, but is he safe in the theater with us is what I'm wanting to know?" Apollo felt a tug on his hand. He looked down at Indio, who whispered, "She's nice. Truly. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Somehow she knew he would take a love affair very seriously indeed. Once that pinpoint focus was engaged, he would throw himself body and soul into the liaison. In the the woman he decided to take as a lover.
A shiver ran through her at the thought. To be the object of such ferocious regard was an alluring prospect, but it also gave her pause. — Elizabeth Hoyt

What of the Parliament? Or the succession of the marquessate?"

"Don't you see?" He shook his head, searching for the words, he who was known for his eloquence on the floor of the House of Lords. "None of that matters. Without you, I am a shadow of a man, a wisp. Parliament, even the marquessate, can survive without me, but I cannot survive without you. — Elizabeth Hoyt

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. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Her nostrils flared as she inhaled. There was a musky scent in the air, salty and animal, and it made her clench her legs together.
He grinned suddenly, his white teeth gritted together, as if he knew what he did to her. His fist was moving faster now, the deep red head of his cock appearing and disappearing between his fingers. It shone, fully revealed, and so big she bit her lip.
"Now," he grunted. "Now, Eve, watch me. Are you watching me?"
"Yes," she moaned.
The muscles stood out in his neck as a white liquid erupted from his cock, flowing and spurting, his legs shaking, his hand slowing.
And the entire time he watched her. — Elizabeth Hoyt

He smiled down at her. Truly. I think a man may find happiness-or discontent- no matter if he has a full belly or not. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Lily stopped dead in the doorway to her room and then took a step back. Apollo cocked his head. It'd been a very long day full of trepidation mixed with tediousness and he'd used up all his patience. "If you leave, I'll follow you out and we'll have this discussion in the hallway where everyone can hear." She scowled ferociously at him, but came all the way in the room and shut the door. "What do you want to talk about?" "Us." "There's nothing to discuss." "Yes," he said patiently, "there is. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Seraphine, Seraphine, Seraphine. O most beloved of women, most fiery of saints, never leave me, please. I'll erect columns of white marble to you, build gardens of delights for you, cause ships to sail and warriors to rise for you, if you'll only remain by my side. — Elizabeth Hoyt

He pulled back, staring at her in the dim carriage, his brows still knit. "Megs?"
Oh, right. She still hadn't told him. Well, it was his own fault; his mouth was simply delicious.
"I love you," she said, speaking clearly so that there might be no confusion. — Elizabeth Hoyt

She was already in his palace, in his life. He couldn't go back
and wouldn't even if he could. She was so close to him now that it was as if he held her in his palm like a glowing ember
and gave thanks for the pain even as he inhaled the smoke from his burning flesh. — Elizabeth Hoyt

He grinned, looking not a little wicked. "Have you looked at my books? Glanced at my titles? Fondled my spines? — Elizabeth Hoyt

Will ye be wantin' this now, madam?"
"Yes, please," she whispered. She wanted to engrave the sight of him thus, about to make love to her, in her mind. — Elizabeth Hoyt

I am a whore," she said. "And in addition to that, I am not a nice woman. But despite these facts, my word is gold. — Elizabeth Hoyt

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. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Val smiled evilly at the child and reached into his pocket.
"Do you," he asked, "like kittens?"
And he held out a black, fluffy kitten with a white chest.
Annalise blinked at the kitten's green eyes.
The kitten blinked back.
"Oh, yes!" said Annalise.
Val deposited the kitten into the plump little arms and strolled to the kitchens, where Hecate and her kittens were in residence, swinging his gold walking stick.
There were seven more kittens remaining and a garden full of his enemies' children ... — Elizabeth Hoyt

He thought he saw her smile waver when she read it, then she was hugging him tightly. "You're the one who needs to take care of yourself. Your escape is still all the news. They'll be searching for you." She drew back to look at him, and to his consternation he saw that she had tears in her eyes. "I couldn't bear to lose you again." He bent and kissed her forehead. Even if he could speak there was nothing he could say to comfort her. — Elizabeth Hoyt

The solid lines will be new plantings. The maze will be the centerpiece of the new garden. The pond on one side, the theater on another, so that from the theater one will look across the maze to the pond. There may be viewing places in the theater itself so that visitors may see the maze and those within it. It will be - The pencil finally broke through the paper at this point. He balled his fist, frustrated, the words bottled up inside him. Slim fingers covered his fist, cool and comforting. He looked up. "Beautiful," she said. "It will be beautiful." His breath seemed to stop in his lungs. Her eyes were so big, so earnest, so completely captivated by his trifling drawings, his esoteric work. — Elizabeth Hoyt

You can't teach a dog not to bark, for 'tis God's will that they do, — Elizabeth Hoyt

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 Hoyt

They had taken away something very important from him when he'd been made helpless. It should've broken him, being forced into chains. Yet it hadn't. Even in her grief she was amazed. She framed his face with her hands, tilting it up so she could look in his eyes. "You survived. You endured and survived." His lips curved bitterly. "I had no choice." She shook her head. "There's always a choice. You could've given up, let them take your soul and mind, but you didn't. You persevered. I think you are the bravest man I have ever met." "I think, then, that you've not met many men," he whispered. His voice was light, but his face still held the years of tragedy. — Elizabeth Hoyt

He made no reply to that, so she continued, gently wiping around his nose, over the broad brow, and up the craggy cheekbones. Not a handsome face. Not pretty or comely. But it was a good face, she thought. Certainly masculine. Certainly one she was attracted to. She paused, swallowing at the thought. She did not know this man. She knew of him - knew that he would without hesitation fling himself into a filthy hole to save her son, knew he was kind to silly dogs and quarrelsome old women, knew he could, with a single, certain look, make her insides heat and melt - but she did not know him. — Elizabeth Hoyt

He immediately took her in his arms and cut off her stays. She didn't move. He shook her. "Artemis." Her head flopped back and forth limply. Makepeace laid a hand on his arm. "Your Grace." He ignored the other man. "Diana." "Your Grace, I'm sorry - " He swung back his arm and slapped her face, the sound echoing across the water. She choked. Immediately he flipped her so that her face was over the gunwale of the boat. She coughed and a great stream of dirty water fountained out of her mouth. He'd never seen such a wonderful sight in his life. — Elizabeth Hoyt

She threw back her head, riding him hard, the sweat sliding down between her breasts. He lurched up, half sitting, his arm propping him up, and licked the sweat from her body.
She cried out, gasping, holding his head to her even as he sucked one nipple into his mouth. She felt the pull, felt the answering gush, and knew she was falling apart, spreading outward, a star exploding.
He gasped and let go of her breast, bowing his head to her chest, his hair wild and tangled against her as he groaned and shook.
She felt heat inside her and rose one last time, spreading wide her thighs, shoving him as deep inside her as she could.
Trying to keep him forever. — Elizabeth Hoyt

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. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Margaret in contrast held her head high, her cheeks flagged with a becoming rose color. She looked like a goddess enraged. A goddess who might, if they were alone, assault his person
the thought of which unaccountably aroused him. — Elizabeth Hoyt

You do have to save my brother," she said, "because if you do not I will tell everyone in England that you are the Ghost of St. Giles. — Elizabeth Hoyt

She stood still a moment, watching him, and he had no idea at all what she was thinking. Finally she laughed quietly, gesturing with her free hand at the marble figure. "It's a minotaur. I suppose that's appropriate." He looked at the figure, all horns and massive shoulders. "The monster in the maze?" "Yes." She turned in the dark to face him, and all he could see was the limned starlight on her cheek, the glimmer of the reflected moon in her eyes. "Indio thought you were a monster at first. Did I ever tell you?" He shook his head slowly. "Am I still a monster to you?" "No." She reached up to trace his eyebrow. "You're not ... that. You never were, really. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Maude was still scowling. "What's wrong with him? Can't he talk?" "No, he can't," Indio said simply, saving Apollo from having to do his dumb show. "Oh." Maude blinked, obviously taken aback. "Has he had his tongue cut out?" "Maude!" Miss Stump cried. "What a horrible thought. He has a tongue." Her brows knit as if from sudden doubt and she peered worriedly at Apollo. "Don't you?" He didn't even bother resisting the urge. He stuck out his tongue at her. Indio laughed and Daffodil began barking again - obviously her first reaction to nearly everything. Miss Stump stared at Apollo for a long second and he was aware that his body was heating. Carefully he withdrew his tongue and snapped his mouth shut, giving her his most uncomprehending face. — Elizabeth Hoyt