Brenda Joyce > Quotes

“I am strong, but I am tired, Stephen, tired of always having to be the strong one, of always having to do the right thing.”
― Brenda Joyce, An Impossible Attraction

“If you are lost, I will find you. If you are in danger, I will protect you," he said seriously. "It's what a gentleman does, Elysse."

~Alexi de Warenne to Elysse O'Neil”
― Brenda Joyce, The Promise

“They could argue for hours on almost any subject; they usually agreed on broad conclusions, but disagreed on almost every detail.”
― Brenda Joyce, An Impossible Attraction

“DeWarenne men love forever”
― Brenda Joyce, A Lady At Last

“She tugged warningly on his shirt. "I am serious! Are you going to marry me, Sean? Finally?"

He smiled, and the light of his smile filled his eyes. "Damn it, Elle! Will you not let me take the lead? Ladies do not propose marriage!"

~Sean O'Neill & Eleanor de Warenne”
― Brenda Joyce, The Stolen Bride

“I am not a twenty-two-year-old boy; I am not a besotted fool. If you think to jilt me, think again. For I will not turn tail and run the other way as he did, oh no. I will find you, and I will drag you to the altar on your back if need be, no matter how you might be screaming. No matter how scandalous it might be.”
― Brenda Joyce, Scandalous Love

“If I say I will protect you, I will."

~Alexi de Warenne to Elysse O'Neill”
― Brenda Joyce, The Promise

“How could I have ever loved Peg? I love you." And too late, he realized that the words he had just spoken were the truth.

He closed his eyes, holding her even more tightly, allowing himself to finally realize and identify his feelings. He was stunned by their enormity, their intensity, their power.

~Sean O'Neill”
― Brenda Joyce, The Stolen Bride

“ Life is full of surprises" she said softly."It's hardly ever black and white.”
― Brenda Joyce, The Promise

“Oh, I forgot to tell you the rest of it
—he’s a widower now, so they can ride off together into the sunset, their wedding rings glinting.”
― Brenda Joyce, An Impossible Attraction

“He is in love with you. I read the fucking letters. And you love him. Damn you! Damn you to hell, Elysse!” he roared, towering over the foot of the bed. “You are supposed to love me!”

-Alexis de Warenne”
― Brenda Joyce, The Promise

“You deny it all you want, but you are mine. Call it passion, call it obsession, call it whatever pleases you, but you run hot and wild in my blood, Katherine-I cannot give you up.”
― Brenda Joyce, The Game

“And he stood so closely behind her that she felt his breath feather her neck. Blanche leaped away, putting a polite distance between them, her heart suddenly thundering in her chest. His body hadn't touched hers, but it might as well have, for she had felt his heat.”
― Brenda Joyce, The Perfect Bride

“I have always loved Elle. I love her now even more deeply than before, as the woman I wish to share my life with."

~Sean O'Neill”
― Brenda Joyce, The Stolen Bride

“You have told yourself that you have found your knight in shining armor, my brother Rick. Isn't that the truth? You met him and he fit the bill, so you have told yourself a wonderful story and, stubborn brat that you are, you have been clinging to it ever since. After all, what could be more appropriate than for Francesca Cahill, reformer extraordinaire, to fall in love with my reform-minded Republican brother? But wait! Being as this is a love story, there has to be an unhappy middle and the perfect hero isn't quite so perfect after all. For he is married. Oh, wait! It isn't that bad, after all, for as it turns out he is a man of virtue, and he really loves you, while he despises his wife! And did I forget to mention that she is vile and evil? So the story can limp along, and true love might survive after all! Does this sound at all familiar, Francesca?"
"I almost hate you," she whispered. And she felt a tear sliding down her cheek.”
― Brenda Joyce, Deadly Desire

“Dün gece senin yatağındaydım!" diye suçladı Amanda,gözleri kederle büyümüştü."Dün gece beni defalarca öptün.Sevgili olduğumuzu sanıyordum."
Cliff'in yüzü bembeyaz kesildi. Konuşmakta zorlanıyordu. "Biz sevgili değiliz. Dün gece bir hataydı. Bir daha asla olmayacak. Sen hala bakiresin."
"Kısmen!" Genç kadın yaklaştı, bir yandan da başını sallıyordu. "Bana sarıldın ve beni öptün. Dilin boğazımın içinde, elin bacaklarımın arasındaydı! Sevgili olmadığımızı nasıl söyleyebiliyorsun?"
Cliff yüzünün kıpkırmızı olduğunun farkındaydı. "Kontrolümü kaybettim," diye çabaladı.
"Ayrıca bu ilk değildi!" diye bağırırken titriyordu Amanda. "Fırtınadan sonra gemideyken...Rüya gördüğümü sanmıştım ama görmemiştim değil mi? Benimle gemide de seviştin!"
"Kontrolümü kaybettim" diye gergin bir şekilde tekrarladı. Ne kadar aptalca konuşuyordu. "Müthiş güzeldin ve çok çekiciydin ama bu yanlış. Sen bir kocayı hakediyorsun.."
"Ben bir koca istemiyorum. Seni istiyorum."
Cliff öylece bakakaldı. Amanda da ona bakıyordu, yüzü solmuş ve titriyordu. Cliff sarsılmış bir halde, "Seni sevgilim yapmam," demeyi başardı. "Bir gecelik ön sevişme bizi sevgili yapmaz. Şehvete kapılmıştım ama sadece seni rahatlatmak istedim.”
― Brenda Joyce, A Lady At Last

“This was not ending her way; in fact, this was not ending at all.
He was a de Warenne. Amanda belonged to him, now and forever, and he would pursue her until he found her and won her over. If she had loved him once, he would make her love him again.
But when he got to the wharves, something was wrong. Cliff was halfway to the shipping offices used by his company when he realized, in real disbelief, what that was. He pulled his mount to a sliding halt, whipped it around and gaped in absolute shock at the empty berth where the Fair Lady should have been; where she had been at anchor yesterday and last night.
For one moment, he stared, pulse pounding, blood roaring in his veins, in his head.
And his world went still, the vast stillness before great battle. When he spoke, it was so softly, no passerby could hear. “Where the fuck is my ship.”
― Brenda Joyce, A Lady At Last

“She felt her lips widen. She thrust again—he parried. “I won’t draw blood, de Warenne,” she said, but she thought maybe she would, just so she could see the look in his eyes. A terrible excitement consumed her. With it was her rage. She thrust and he parried, but took a step back. Elated, Amanda went on the offensive. His eyes widened but he merely blocked each blow, allowing her to drive him ruthlessly and rapidly back into the larboard railing.
She laughed, triumphant. “You can do better than that, de Warenne! Surely you are not afraid of my naked blade?”
“You remain very angry with me. I understand,” he began.
She was furious. He knew nothing! She thrust and he parried; she feinted and then slipped through his defenses, instantly cutting a long line into his fine, fancy shirt. She withdrew, heady with the scent of victory. “You understand what?” she asked sweetly.
He glanced at the long tear, very surprised, and then he slowly looked up at her.
“I did not draw blood,” she said, exhilarated now. She laughed at him.
“You were fortunate,” he said, color flooding his cheeks.
“No, I was careful. I chose not to take your blood, de Warenne!” She thrust so swiftly that, before he could defend himself, she had taken the top three buttons off his shirt, causing it to gap open, revealing the two thick muscles of his chest.
Above them, someone laughed.
De Warenne was disbelieving.
“Fight, de Warenne,” she said fiercely, panting. She was determined to savagely exchange blows—she would ruthlessly engage, there would be no quarter! “Or show your men that you can be outplayed and outfought by a child.”
― Brenda Joyce, A Lady At Last

“No quería tener ninguna debilidad. En aquel lugar sólo sobrevivían los fuertes.”
― Brenda Joyce, The Promise

“She had never dreamed that in fulfilling her love for Tyrell she would so hurt her parents. She had never seen Papa so anguished before.”
― Brenda Joyce, The Masquerade

“Oh, I am enjoying my visit to the island, Captain. But I should enjoy it so much more if you were to take me aboard your boat."
Amanda strode forward. "It's a ship, not a boat, my fine lady—a frigate, in fact. Fifth rate, with thirty-eight guns, not counting any cannonade."
The lady's jaw dropped, unattractively.
De Warenne's eyes widened, their gazes meeting. Amanda wriggled her hips and thrust out her bosom. "Ohh, do take me on your boat, Captain, sir!"
His face broke into a smile and he choked on a laugh. Then he scowled very fiercely at her. "Miss Carre. You are in your nightgown."
Amanda blinked. He had been amused by her. She softened, smiling back. "It's not my nightgown. I don't know whose it is. In fact, I can't even remember how it got on me." Her gaze narrowed and she looked right at him. "Did you undress me?"
He turned red.”
― Brenda Joyce, A Lady At Last

“Amanda marched toward him. "Hey. Where is de Warenne?"
He gave her a furious look and picked up the tray. "His lordship is entertaining and is not to be disturbed."
Her eyes narrowed. "Don't put on airs with me," she said flatly. "You're only a servant."
He straightened. "I am the butler, miss, and the most important servant in his lordship's employ."
She rolled her eyes. "I don't think so. The most important one he's got working for him is the ship's carpenter. You want to make a bet?”
― Brenda Joyce, A Lady At Last

“Cliff?” Eleanor tried to appear innocent, but it was no easy task, as she could not wait to bait her brother now.
He was at one of the two large desks in the library, both of which were at kitty-corner at the far end of the large room. Two vast red rugs covered the floors and bookcases lined two of the four walls. He seemed engrossed in paperwork and she had to come forward, a sheet of paper in her hand, calling his name again.
He jerked, glancing up. Then he stood, smiling. “Eleanor! When did you return from Harrington Hall? How did it go?”
She kept a perfectly innocent expression on her face. God, he deserved this! “Oh, fine. Mother is resting before supper—everyone is, actually. Can I have a word?”
He scowled, coming out from behind the desk. “How is Amanda?” he demanded with vast impatience. “Was the call a success?”
She simply smiled at him.
“Do not test my patience now!”
“You have no patience,” she cried. Then she smiled genuinely at him. “It was a very good idea to call on Blanche first. The call was a success. Amanda may not realize it, but she has a calm and grace, even when she is afraid. She did make one faux pas, but we all pretended not to notice and she realized her mistake. She can hold her own in society, Cliff—she is clever and, in truth, good at conversation.”
He was smiling. “I am so pleased.”
― Brenda Joyce, A Lady At Last

“You were master of your own ship at eighteen,” Amanda whispered, filled with admiration for him. “I am almost eighteen.”
“You are a woman,” he said as if reminded her.
“There have been women pirates.”
He was clearly aghast. “Don’t even think it!”
She began to smile, pleased that he remained so concerned for her. “Why not? You can see that I am a skilled seaman and a skilled swordsman. Why couldn’t I have my own ship? Then I could give up this farce of trying to be a lady.” She didn’t mean a single word.
“You are trying to provoke me,” he said, flushed in the starlight. “I am onto your game! You could not control a crew and we both know it.”
“I was trying to provoke you,” she admitted, “and it was very easy to do.” She glanced at him through her lashes. It had been ridiculously easy, in fact. Just as it had been so easy to get him to lust after her with a little bit of swordplay.”
― Brenda Joyce, A Lady At Last

“...tuga zbog onoga što nije moglo biti, ne umire nikad...”
― Brenda Joyce

“He turned to rush up the stairs, but Sean stepped in front of him. “If you are on your way up to visit your children or if you are going up to dress, I can allow you to pass.” His expression was bland. “But I am under strict orders from my wife not to allow you to see Amanda before she finishes dressing.”
He was in disbelief. “I wish to speak to her. She is my ward!”
Sean started laughing at him. “You are besotted. Why don’t you give in, surrender, confess, admit it?”
Cliff felt like landing a solid blow in his stepbrother’s smug face. “You are the besotted one. For God’s sake, every time I enter a room, I have to scan the premises to make certain you and Eleanor aren’t behaving like adolescent lovers behind the sofa.”
Rex approached, also clearly amused. “You are not allowed to visit Amanda until she comes downstairs. Relax, Cliff. It’s only been, what, two weeks?”
“It has been eighteen days,” he growled, and when everyone chuckled, clearly entertained by him, he turned red.”
― Brenda Joyce, A Lady At Last

“The cabin door blew in off its hinges.
She cried out as Cliff filled the doorway.
His face was a tight, hard mask of fury, under absolute control. His legs were braced, but the deck did not roll. Amanda breathed hard. She wanted to tell him she was sorry, but no words would come forth.
He pointed at her, his eyes glittering savagely. “I have two things to say to you, madam.”
She nodded, heart lurching. He hated her now.
“You are coming home with me. And we are getting married.”
And with a final stare, he stormed out.”
― Brenda Joyce, A Lady At Last

“Ye love your guardian,” he finally said. “I watched ye dancin’, Amanda. I watched yer eyes.”
Amanda did not know what to say. Then she thought of how Garret had accepted the truth about her life with such steadfast poise and nobility, praising her for her accomplishments instead of scorning her for her past, and she touched his arm. “Yes, I do.”
He slowly shook his head. “Then I wish ye the best, lass.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Aye, I ken.”
“No, it’s not what you think. I love Cliff and I always will, but he doesn’t return my feelings. I am going home, Garret, to the island, and I am never marrying anyone.”
Garret smiled oddly. “I dinna think ye’ll get far,” he said.”
― Brenda Joyce, A Lady At Last

“EVENING HAD FINALLY fallen. Margaret thought that the day had been one of the longest of her life. She slowly went up the”
― Brenda Joyce, A Rose In The Storm

“Suddenly his mind played a trick on him. He imagined her, not on the deck beside him, but in a ballroom, in a beautiful ball gown. His heart turned over hard, then thundered. Good God, she would be so beautiful . . . For a moment, speech failed him. She would have a dozen suitors, he realized, still stunned. “Amanda,” he heard himself say, his gaze holding hers “when you come out, I must insist on the first dance.”
“You want the first dance?” she gasped.
He tore his gaze away, shaken by the possessive desire that had arisen. “I do. In fact, I will make certain to be in London for your first ball—if you promise me that dance.”
She turned away, incredulous, but the rope between them went taut. “Of course,” she said breathlessly. Then she faced him, still surprised. “But why?”
“Are you not my protégée?” he asked, trying to sound casual. But he knew that she would be too beautiful to resist in a ball gown, whirling about the floor in a gentleman’s arms. It flashed through his mind that he might not be that pleased when she was introduced into society, because no gentleman would be immune to her beauty. And suddenly he wanted that first dance very badly—suddenly he ached for it.
He glanced at her through his lashes. “Is it not my right to dance with you before all others?” he asked softly, unable to help himself.
He could not control himself. They were standing near the helm in gale winds, the deck rocking heavily beneath their feet, and he was thinking of this woman, her beauty, her allure and his passion, not the storm. He knew he would feel as intensely passionate dancing with her as he would if he allowed himself to take her to his bed.
She began to smile. “I am clumsy,” she warned.
He laughed, relieved by her absurd comment. “Impossible. You are light on your feet—we locked swords, remember? I know you will excel at dancing, just as you will excel at all of your current studies.”
She suddenly lowered her dark lashes. “Very well. I will allow you the first dance—if you allow me to ride the storm here with you.”
“Absolutely not!” he shouted, aghast. “I do not need you going overboard, either!”
She pulled on the rope binding them, then gave him a sideling, seductive look. “I can hardly fall overboard now.”
He shook his head, furious with her for daring to use that dance against him, and glanced at the high, white foam of the seas. The horizon ahead was now pitch-black, a sight he did not care for. He turned back to her. “I will not barter for that dance,” he warned. He was going to have it, no matter what she now intended.”
― Brenda Joyce, A Lady At Last