Martin Langdon Quotes

“It was difficult to imagine anyone besting him on the water, or anywhere else for that matter. He was powerful and unstoppable, and from her vantage point, he was the force to be reckoned with. Especially when it came to that infuriatingly stubborn spark of desire in her heart, which simply would not die, no matter how hard or how long she tried to snuff it out.”
― Julianne MacLean, Surrender to a Scoundrel

“A notable few seconds of silence ensued before she heard a man speak. "What a delightful coincidence."
Startled by the familiar voice, she turned around to find herself gazing upon Martin, of all people, standing in his own open doorway, his hand still upon the knob. He wore formal evening attire- a black suit with a white waistcoat and bow tie made of the finest silk money could buy. His hair was thick and shiny black like wicked midnight, falling in attractive waves to his broad shoulders. His blue eyes were heavy-lidded and openly sensual.”
― Julianne MacLean, Surrender to a Scoundrel

“So it seems we both have reputations," he said, "which means that we are similar creatures. Except that you are famous for being virtuous, and I am famous for... Well, quite the opposite."
Evelyn tensed. "And I thought you were famous because of all your sailing trophies," she replied. "Foolish me."
He smiled again, and it reached his eyes. "You? Foolish? I don't think so."
But she felt very foolish at this moment, responding with lavish desire to the sensation of his hot breath on her face and the intoxicating nearness of his body.
Heart pounding, she drew in a slow, deep breath, and remembered to whom she was speaking. Martin Langdon. Charmer. Thrill seeker. Heartbreaker.
And she was Evelyn Wheaton. Pious churchgoer. Shy mouse. Ugly duckling.”
― Julianne MacLean, Surrender to a Scoundrel

“You can't go through life watching other people have all the fun," he said. Then he leaned closer and whispered in her ear and the moist heat of his breath sent gooseflesh tingling down the entire left side of her body. "Don't you ever want to try new things? To explore and feel truly alive?"
Evelyn breathed in the cool night air, mixed with the musky scent of his shaving soap or cologne or whatever it was, and felt a dizzying thrill run through her, from the top of her head straight down to her toes. It made her want to do everything he was suggesting- and more- because when had she ever done anything new? When had she ever felt as alive as she did at this moment?
She swallowed hard over the shock of her response though she should not be surprised. He was a handsome, mysterious, virile man who sailed boats on stormy seas, looked at her with sexual prowess like he wanted to devour her, and he'd been a hero in her eyes since she was a girl. He was like no other man in the world- charming on the outside, but dark and enigmatic under the surface- and there was something about him that touched her deepest desires. The ones no one knew about. The ones she couldn't even admit to herself because she feared them.
All at once she realized the conversation had become too intimate. Yes, she had wanted to be more amiable and less aloof, but surely she had let things go too far. He was speaking to her deepest thoughts and emotions when she should have kept her guard up and maintained a reasonably safe distance at least. Especially from a man like him, who knew how to seduce and did so on a regular basis.
"I could take you," he said in a low, silken voice, surprising her yet again with his direct manner when he should not be suggesting such a thing, and certainly not like that- with such heated persuasion, as if he were insinuating all kinds of other activities that would take place on board his boat after he'd dropped anchor in a secluded cove. "I could even teach you. Show you how thrilling it can be."
There was no point pretending not to recognize what he was proposing- that they could enjoy more than just a cruise on the water.”
― Julianne MacLean, Surrender to a Scoundrel

“I once heard that Lord Martin can recall the exact details of every race he's ever been in and all the mistakes the other skippers made, and he doesn't require a chart or tide table when he's at the wheel. He keeps everything stored in his head like a scientific tactician.”
― Julianne MacLean, Surrender to a Scoundrel

“Evelyn."
She recognized the voice immediately, and her body began to hum. Closing her eyes for a brief second to search for calm, she wet her lips and slowly turned.
There he was, her hero, looking as handsome as ever in his black-and-white formal attire, his dark, wavy hair curling around his collar in the most appealing way. He was a striking and beautiful man, that had not changed, and she still loved him with every breath of passion in her body. "Hello," she said with a warm smile.
"Hello," he replied, making his way closer, hands in pockets while his eyes took in her evening gown of white satin, embroidered in peach lovers' knots, cut daringly low at the neckline. He even glanced down at her shoes of gilt leather with expensive jeweled toecaps.
"You look beautiful," he said, and she smiled when she recognized the wonder in his eyes. She had definitely picked the right gown for tonight.
He gazed at her appreciatively for another few seconds, then raised his eyebrows and let out a whistle, as if he couldn't quite recover from the sight of her in this dress. It was just the response she had hoped for, and it sent shivers of delight down her spine.”
― Julianne MacLean, Surrender to a Scoundrel