Westcliff Quotes

“There are young women who have goals other than finding a husband.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Spring

“Good God-is there nothing you won't stoop to?"

"If there is," Lillian replied smartly, "I haven't discovered it yet.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Secrets of a Summer Night

“All these thoughts flashed through Amelia’s mind in one searing mass. But as she stiffened and waited for the ax to fall, Rohan came to her in two long strides. And before Amelia could move, or think, or even breathe, he had jerked her full length against him, and pulled her head to his.
Rohan kissed her with an indecent frankness that sent her reeling. His arms were firm around her, keeping her steady while his mouth caught hers at just the right angle.
Her hands moved in tentative objection, her palms encountering the tough muscles of his chest, the catch of his shirt buttons. He was the only solid thing in a kaleidoscopic world. She stopped pushing as her body absorbed the arousing details of him, the hard masculine contours, the fresh outdoors scent, the sensuous probing of his mouth. She had relived his kiss a thousand times in her dreams. She just hadn’t realized it until now.
Graceful fingers cupped around her neck and jaw, turning her face upward. The tips of his fingers found the fine skin behind her ears, where it met the silken edge of her hairline. And all the while he continued to fill her with concentrated fire, until the inside of her mouth prickled sweetly and her legs shook beneath her. He used his tongue delicately, exploring without haste, entering her repeatedly while she clung to him in bewildered pleasure.
His mouth lifted, his breath a hot caress against her lips. He turned his head as he spoke to whoever had entered the room. “I beg your pardon, my lord. We wanted a moment of privacy.”
Amelia turned crimson as she followed his gaze to the doorway, where Lord Westcliff stood with an unfathomable expression.
An electric moment passed while Westcliff appeared to marshal his thoughts. His gaze moved to Amelia’s face, then back to Rohan’s. A smile flickered in his dark eyes. “I intend to return in approximately a half hour. It would probably be best if my study were vacated by then.” Giving a courteous nod, he took his leave.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Amelia dropped her forehead to Rohan’s shoulder with a groan. She would have pulled away, but she didn’t trust her knees to hold.
“Why did you do that?”
He didn’t look at all repentant. “I had to come up with a reason for both of us to be in here. It seemed the best option.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“Perhaps I’m off the mark,” Westcliff said, “but I suspect it may have something to do with Miss Hathaway.”
Cam sent him a damning glare.
St. Vincent looked alertly from Cam’s stony face to Westcliff’s. “You didn’t tell me there was a woman.”
Cam stood so quickly the chair nearly toppled backward. “She has nothing to do with it.”
“Who is she?” St. Vincent always hated being left out of gossip.
“One of Lord Ramsay’s sisters,” came Westcliff’s reply. “They reside at the estate next door.”
“Well, well,” St. Vincent said. “She must be quite something to provoke such a reaction in you, Rohan. Tell me about her. Is she fair? Dark? Well formed?”
To remain silent, or to deny the attraction, would have been to admit the full extent of his weakness. Cam lowered back into his chair and strove for an offhand tone. “Dark-haired. Pretty. And she has … quirks.”
“Quirks.” St. Vincent’s eyes glinted with enjoyment. “How charming. Go on.”
“She’s read obscure medieval philosophy. She’s afraid of bees. Her foot taps when she’s nervous.” And other, more personal things he couldn’t reveal … like the beautiful paleness of her throat and chest, the weight of her hair in his hands, the way strength and vulnerability were pleated inside her like two pieces of fabric folded together. Not to mention a body that had been designed for mortal sin.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“Rohan returned, his breath quickened from exertion. A mist of sweat had accumulated on his skin until it gleamed like bronze. “Right on course,” he said to Westcliff and Swansea. “The stabilizing fins worked. It landed at a distance of approximately two thousand yards.”
“Excellent!” Swansea exclaimed. “But where is the rocket?”
Rohan’s white teeth flashed in a grin. “Buried in a deep, smoking hole. I’ll go back to dig it up later.”
“Yes, we’ll want to see the condition of the casing and the inner core.” Swansea was red-faced with satisfaction. He used a handkerchief to blot his steaming, wrinkled countenance. “It’s been an exciting morning, eh?”
“Perhaps it’s time to return to the manor, Captain,” Westcliff suggested.
“Yes, quite.” Swansea bowed to Amelia. “A pleasure, Miss Hathaway. And may I say, you took it rather well, being the target of a surprise attack.”
“The next time I visit, Captain,” she said, “I’ll remember to bring my white flag.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight