Knockout
Perfection. Still trying to put my thoughts in some semblance of order.
BUT THE WAY HE SEES AND ACCEPTS HER! ππππππππππ
Iβve been waiting for Imogenβs story since she first strode across the page with her carpet bag full of explosives.
All her life sheβs been told sheβs too much. Too volatile. Too brash. Too curvy. But to Tom, sheβs exactly enough. Heβs been dreaming of her from the moment she disrupted his crime scene. She challenges him and tricks him and confuses him.
When she runs into a burning building to save him and he carries her out in his arms, all the denial and the running between them leads to whatβs been inevitable from the beginning.
The worlds between them donβt matter.
Sheβs his match, lighting up the recklessness and passion he keeps buried.
Heβs her blade, protecting her and cherishing her and empowering her.
Loved it loved it loved it!
There were so many moments that made me swoon and laugh and feel all of the things that fuel Imogenβs devil-may-care attitude. If youβre a fan of the PBS series Miss Scarlet and the Duke, youβre already familiar with the level of tension that builds when you put a man dedicated to rules because they helped him rise from his humble origins with a woman who uses every tool at her disposal to change the world one life at a time.
Heβs determined to resist her because they come from different worlds and heβs convinced himself heβs unworthy.
But what Tommy Peck will come to realize is that Imogen doesnβt care about his origins or his misgivings. She cares that he sees her. She cares that he accepts her. She cares that he wants her wild spirit and her craving for adventure and the convoluted way her mind works sometimes.
And when Imogen wants something as much as she wants Tommy Peck, sheβll move heaven and earth, and walk through hell, to claim it.
Just a few of my favorite quotes:
βAnd what were you going to do when you found me in my office?β Kiss you. No, wait. That wasnβt right. But now, that was all she could think of. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted him to kiss her. And she didnβt care for a moment that they were in the uniform room at Scotland Yard. All she cared was that he was there, and he smelled like leather and amber, and he radiated heat like the sun, and her heart was banging about in her chest, and his fingers were stroking over her wrist in little circles that were going to make her mad if he didnβt . . .
Because now he had to face the truth. That women like Lady Imogen Loveless, no matter the way they took hold of the world and flouted convention, were not for men like Thomas Peck, born in the streets of Shoreditch, without money or title or power to recommend them.
βMmm. I confess, there is a lady I am tempted by right now.β The words sizzled through her. βBut you misunderstand,β he added. βWhen I say you donβt need a weapon tonight, itβs because I am your weapon, now. You have me.β Her eyes flew open and she pulled back to meet his, intensely blue. βMy guard?β βYour blade.β
βIt would take a lifetime to catalogue all the ways I have wondered about you, Imogen Loveless,β he said. βI have wondered about the color of your skin and the shape of your body and the feel of you against meΒ .Β .Β .β
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