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“Damn, you're good,' he said and rolled onto his back. The man wasn't much for flowery speech, Alesandra thought with a smile. It didn't matter. She was arrogantly proud of herself because she'd pleased him. Perhaps she should give him a little praise too. She rolled onto her side to face him, put her hand on his chest directly over his pounded heart, and whispered. 'You're good, too. 'Tis the truth, you're the best I've ever had.'
He opened his eyes to look at her. 'I'm the only one you've ever had, remember?' His voice was gruff with affection.
'I remember,' she said.
'No other man is ever going to touch you, Alesandra. You're mine.”
― Castles
He opened his eyes to look at her. 'I'm the only one you've ever had, remember?' His voice was gruff with affection.
'I remember,' she said.
'No other man is ever going to touch you, Alesandra. You're mine.”
― Castles
“And for the rest of the night, he couldn’t quite forget the smell of her perfume. Or maybe it was the soft sound of her chuckle. Or maybe it was neither of those things. Maybe it was just her.”
― It's in His Kiss
― It's in His Kiss
“Will you be quiet?" he asked, smiling down at her.
She nodded.
He pretended to think about it. "I don't believe you/"
She planted her hands on her hips, which had to be a ludicrous postition, naked as she was from the waist up.
All right," he acceded, "but the only words I'll allow from your mouth are, 'Oh, Gareth,' and 'Yes, Gareth.'
He lifted his finger.
What about 'More, Gareth?'"
He almost kept a straith face. "That will be acceptable”
― It's in His Kiss
She nodded.
He pretended to think about it. "I don't believe you/"
She planted her hands on her hips, which had to be a ludicrous postition, naked as she was from the waist up.
All right," he acceded, "but the only words I'll allow from your mouth are, 'Oh, Gareth,' and 'Yes, Gareth.'
He lifted his finger.
What about 'More, Gareth?'"
He almost kept a straith face. "That will be acceptable”
― It's in His Kiss
“Charlotte Stokehurst,” Violet Bridgerton announced, “is getting married.”
“Today?” Hyacinth queried, taking off her gloves.
Her mother gave her a look. “She has become engaged. Her mother told me this morning.”
Hyacinth looked around. “Were you waiting for me in the hall?”
“To the Earl of Renton,” Violet added. “Renton.”
“Have we any tea?” Hyacinth asked. “I walked all the way home, and I’m thirsty.”
“Renton!” Violet exclaimed, looking about ready to throw up her hands in despair. “Did you hear me?”
“Renton,” Hyacinth said obligingly. “He has fat ankles.”
“He’s—” Violet stopped short. “Why were you looking at his ankles?”
― It's in His Kiss
“Today?” Hyacinth queried, taking off her gloves.
Her mother gave her a look. “She has become engaged. Her mother told me this morning.”
Hyacinth looked around. “Were you waiting for me in the hall?”
“To the Earl of Renton,” Violet added. “Renton.”
“Have we any tea?” Hyacinth asked. “I walked all the way home, and I’m thirsty.”
“Renton!” Violet exclaimed, looking about ready to throw up her hands in despair. “Did you hear me?”
“Renton,” Hyacinth said obligingly. “He has fat ankles.”
“He’s—” Violet stopped short. “Why were you looking at his ankles?”
― It's in His Kiss
“You’ll be seeing him tomorrow night, anyway.”
“I am?” Hyacinth asked, at precisely the moment Mr. St. Clair said, “She will?”
“You’re accompanying me to the Pleinsworth poetry reading,” Lady D told her grandson. “Or have you forgotten?”
Hyacinth sat back, enjoying the sight of Gareth St. Clair’s mouth opening and closing in obvious distress. He looked a bit like a fish, she decided. A fish with the features of a Greek god, but still, a fish.
“I really…” he said. “That is to say, I can’t—”
“You can, and you will be there,” Lady D said. “You promised.”
He regarded her with a stern expression. “I cannot imagine—”
“Well, if you didn’t promise, you should have done, and if you love me…”
Hyacinth coughed to cover her laugh, then tried not to smirk when Mr. St. Clair shot a dirty look in her direction.
“When I die,” he said, “surely my epitaph will read, ‘He loved his grandmother when no one else would.’”
“And what’s wrong with that?” Lady Danbury asked.”
― It's in His Kiss
“I am?” Hyacinth asked, at precisely the moment Mr. St. Clair said, “She will?”
“You’re accompanying me to the Pleinsworth poetry reading,” Lady D told her grandson. “Or have you forgotten?”
Hyacinth sat back, enjoying the sight of Gareth St. Clair’s mouth opening and closing in obvious distress. He looked a bit like a fish, she decided. A fish with the features of a Greek god, but still, a fish.
“I really…” he said. “That is to say, I can’t—”
“You can, and you will be there,” Lady D said. “You promised.”
He regarded her with a stern expression. “I cannot imagine—”
“Well, if you didn’t promise, you should have done, and if you love me…”
Hyacinth coughed to cover her laugh, then tried not to smirk when Mr. St. Clair shot a dirty look in her direction.
“When I die,” he said, “surely my epitaph will read, ‘He loved his grandmother when no one else would.’”
“And what’s wrong with that?” Lady Danbury asked.”
― It's in His Kiss
Rowena’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Rowena’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
297 books
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24 friends
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