Anna Campbell > Quotes

“He’d stared into her eyes, dark with confusion and unwilling passion, and for one stark, horrible instant, he’d wished to be that different man. He’d wished to be worthy of her.”
― Anna Campbell, Midnight's Wild Passion

“You promise to stop if I say so?" she asked doubtfully, even while she lay down.
"I promise. Though never trust anything a man tells you when he's got his head between your legs.”
― Anna Campbell, Untouched: A Gothic Romance Where Forbidden Desire Becomes Dangerous Surrender

“I want you to want me the way I want you. I want you to come to me and tell me that. Then I want you to show me it’s true.
- Duke Kylemore to Verity Ashton -”
― Anna Campbell, Claiming the Courtesan

“[Verity]"What was that all about?"
[Duke of Kylemore] "The kiss? You said it yourself. It was to teach you a lesson." He used the cold cutting voice again...
[Verity] That you can touch me whenever you feel like it?" She injected a challenge into her voice. "I already knew that."
[Duke of Kylemore] He smiled slightly. "Yes. But now you know when I touch you, you're not immune. And that thought will eat at you like acid.”
― Anna Campbell

“You love me,” he said slowly, wonderingly. Then with greater certainty, “By God, you love me.” His astonished laugh ended on a choked note as he snatched her hand.

“So much,” she said huskily. Her fingers curled hard around his. “So very, very much.”
― Anna Campbell, Untouched: A Gothic Romance Where Forbidden Desire Becomes Dangerous Surrender

“Miss Smith, your suspicions wound me,' he said with a smile. He drew her, stiff and unwilling, against his side. Immediately her warmth seeped into his veins. He’d known he’d missed her, but only now did he realize how much. 'I mean no harm.'

'You lie.'

'Often,' he agreed amiably, feeling the resistance leaching from her. 'Not this time.'

'I’m in no fit state to fight you,' she muttered, curving into him as if created to fit his body.

'I know,' he acknowledged ruefully, wondering why of all the women in the world, she was the only one who ignited any glimmer of chivalry in his soul. 'But it’s no fun when you just give in. I’ll wait until you’re up for another bout.'

She hid her face in his shoulder. She inhaled on a shudder, as if she hadn’t taken a full breath in days. 'You’re an evil devil, Ranelaw.'

'Absolutely,' he said softly, firming his hold as she shifted, not away as she should, but closer.”
― Anna Campbell, Midnight's Wild Passion

“He was ready to embrace a radiant new world. She was ready to snap his head off.”
― Anna Campbell, Untouched: A Gothic Romance Where Forbidden Desire Becomes Dangerous Surrender

“He wasn’t good enough for her. But by God, he meant to make her happy while he had her.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“He'd been unhappy, restless, irritable since leaving Surrey. He'd lived on memories of her. Her absence slowly strangled him. The instant he took Antonia in his arms, he breathed again.”
― Anna Campbell, Midnight's Wild Passion

“And if you must sacrifice yourself, do that by marrying me. I’m not an easy man. You’ll earn your martyr’s crown before you’re done. Don’t condemn both of us to an eternity of unhappiness just because you’re too stiff-necked to face society’s censure.”
― Anna Campbell, Claiming the Courtesan

“Verity, you have a choice,” he said gently. “We eat, we talk, we pass the evening with an attempt at civility. Or we fuck. It’s up to you.”
― Anna Campbell, Claiming the Courtesan

“He’d been right about her determination to save the people she loved. He wondered with a sudden pang he couldn’t identify how it would feel having someone like Antonia on his side.”
― Anna Campbell, Midnight's Wild Passion

“Lydia finally found it in herself to forgive her mother for seizing what small joy she could, whatever the consequences. Love, it seemed, had its own imperatives.”
― Anna Campbell, Days of Rakes and Roses

“We have a week, Miss Forsythe. Time's winged chariot and all that.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“He’d always loved how she fought him. He loved the crackle and spark of her wit. Now he discovered he also loved the way she lay against him in what felt like perfect trust. …

Antonia was a tall, vital woman, no shrinking miss. Now she felt brittle and vulnerable. He tightened his hold and told himself the surge of protectiveness meant nothing. Again he couldn’t quite believe it.”
― Anna Campbell, Midnight's Wild Passion

“Then she'd stared at him with those radiant blue eyes and asked him to let her go.
And bugger, bugger, bigger, he'd suddenly imagined he was sodding Sir Galahad.”
― Anna Campbell, Midnight's Wild Passion

“She loved his laughter. She loved that he faced the world with a reckless smile on his scarred face. Her heart crashed against her chest. A revelation descended. A revelation unrelated to the desire heating her blood.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“He swallowed again and tightened his grip so even if she wanted to leave, she couldn’t. It astonished him how difficult it was to find the one word he needed after these exquisite days. The one word he had no right to say.
He forced the forbidden syllable from his tight throat.
“Stay.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“She shook her head. “No, Jonas.”
“ ‘No, Jonas’ is all you ever say,” he responded with a hint of savagery. He knew he was unfair, but he was just so damned miserable.
Her smile wavered into a warmth that calmed his anger. “Not always.”
He shut his eyes as the memory of wild nights overpowered him. Good God, at this rate, he’d be bawling like a motherless calf.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“I know my heart, Matthew. I know what I feel won't change." She took a shuddering breath and extended one unsteady hand in his direction. Her voice shook with intensity. "When I tell you I love you, that means I'll love you forever."
What does a man do when his dearest dreams come true?
Matthew stared at her outstretched hand. He'd never imagined this time would come. He wasn't prepared. Her words soaked into his soul, slowly turning the parched desert there into a verdant garden.
"You love me," he said slowly, wonderingly. Then with greater certainty, "By God, you love me." His astonished laugh ended on a choked note as he snatched her hand.
"So much," she said huskily. Her fingers curled hard around his. "So very, very much."
He dragged her back into his arms. "I can't believe it."
"Believe it," she whispered. She raised her hands to frame his face so she could look into his eyes. The blue was so pure that he saw right to her gallant, steadfast soul. "I love you, Matthew. I will always love you."
"And I love you, Grace."
Such simple words to change his life. Yet after tonight, he'd never be the same man again.”
― Anna Campbell, Untouched: A Gothic Romance Where Forbidden Desire Becomes Dangerous Surrender

“Open your mouth, tesoro.” He angled her face higher. “Open your mouth for me.”
At his raw demand, her eyes flared wide. For a drunken moment, he drowned in glorious brown, rich, autumnal, sensual.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“You're breathtakingly exciting. You've turned my nights to fire. You've lit my whole world with flame.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“He looked younger, kinder, a brighter image of the man she knew. A man life hadn’t mistreated or betrayed. Whatever the pain of this union, she loved that she gave him this momentary peace. This encounter lurched from the physical onto a different plane. A plane revealing a new emotional landscape. She felt lightheaded, lost.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“The tension drained from her face and she softened in his hold until she was again the fluid, responsive woman who had kissed him within an inch of his life. This time he knew better than to restrain her when she slipped from the bed. He bit back an appeal for her to stay with him. If his life depended on it, he couldn’t say whether he wanted her to stay an hour, a day, or forever.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“Grace."
He drew out the word so it became a long, deep, guttural growl. A sound as primitive as a lion's roar for its mate. Her skin prickled with animal awareness and the breath caught in her throat. Every drop of moisture evaporated from her mouth. Low in her belly, blood began to beat slow and hard with anticipation.
Her face must have betrayed her unfurling arousal. Or perhaps, like her, he reacted to the sudden charge in the air, as electric as the pause before a lightning strike.
Still without shifting his fierce focus, he set down the box he carried. Then he reached to close the doors and slide the bolt across.
Any doubt as to his purpose fled. A delicious thrill rippled through her. The summerhouse was raised on a platform so the windows opened above eye height. With the doors locked, it was a bower designed for private sin.
Sin was clearly his aim.
Now she looked more closely, she realized it wasn't anger that tightened the skin over the bones of his face. It was incendiary hunger.
She should protest. Question. Demand he tell her why he was here. But overwhelming need kept her silent and pinned to the window seat.”
― Anna Campbell, Untouched: A Gothic Romance Where Forbidden Desire Becomes Dangerous Surrender

“Furious grief for her sorrow gripped him in claws of steel. She was young, close to his age, yet she'd seen so much unhappiness. He'd give his soul to ease her pain. But his soul, he knew to his regret, held no value for her.
He clenched his fists at his side as he watched her raise her hands to her face. He didn't need to be close to her to know the tears that had threatened during her tale finally overflowed.
Jesus, he hated it when she cried. Every tear ripped at his heart like a blunt butcher's knife.”
― Anna Campbell, Untouched: A Gothic Romance Where Forbidden Desire Becomes Dangerous Surrender

“All he noticed was Grace. Her exquisite skin, her slender curves wrapped in silk the color of sky, her lush mouth.
He ripped himself from his distraction and crossed to the sideboard to pour her wine. But invisible wires connected him to her. Wires that tightened infinitesimally with every breath so the effort of keeping his hands off her became more onerous by the second.”
― Anna Campbell, Untouched: A Gothic Romance Where Forbidden Desire Becomes Dangerous Surrender

“He angled himself so he could see the round smoothness of her forehead and the straight, oddly aristocratic nose. She was beautiful. He'd recognized that immediately.
Recognized and railed against it.
The oval face with its exotically slanted cheekbones reminded him of etchings he'd seen of Italian Madonnas. His uncle had been generous in giving him books to make up for the Grand Tour he'd never undertake.
His gaze fastened on where delicate color returned from her lush mouth. Its fullness belied the impression of purity. That mouth made even such a sorry excuse for a man as Matthew dream of sin.”
― Anna Campbell, Untouched: A Gothic Romance Where Forbidden Desire Becomes Dangerous Surrender

“He’d called her a sparrow. If he made the slightest untoward movement, his wild bird would fly away into the forest and he’d never find her again. And the strangest result of the last days was the certainty that if Miss Philippa Sanders left his life, it would be immeasurably poorer.”
― Anna Campbell, Her Christmas Earl

“Almost unconsciously, his gaze shifted across the immense ballroom to fasten on the girl, inexorably pulled to her like metal filings to a magnet. He could barely make her out since she was surrounded by her usual jostling court of ardent admirers, most of them titled, wealthy, and considerably handsomer than Nigel. If he was honest with himself, he’d have to admit that obsession would be the most accurate description of his feelings, and he hadn’t the slightest notion as to when or how that obsession had developed. However it had happened, over the last several months a ridiculous amount of space in his skull had been taken up by thoughts of lovely Amelia Easton. Fortunately, until now, none of his acquaintances had suspected that he—the most sensible man in the ton—had succumbed to such a maudlin, hopeless passion. A hopeless passion, since Amelia Easton would no sooner marry a man like Nigel than she would a butcher from Smithfield. After all, she was widely acknowledged as one of the great prizes on the matrimonial mart—beautiful, kind, good-natured, and disgustingly rich, or at least her father was. It was a most potent combination, and meant that the girl couldn’t step foot outside her family’s Mayfair townhouse without a pack of slavering bachelors in pursuit. “How”
― Anna Campbell, A Grosvenor Square Christmas