Denise

“Whatever soul I had, Katie, I think I placed it in your keeping twenty years ago. And now, it's as if...every time we kiss, you give a little piece of it back.”
― Tessa Dare, A Lady by Midnight

“Sidonie,” he said, his voice strangely hoarse. “You are the most—I mean, you are so…I find you…ah, devil take it! Never mind!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Nothing,” he growled. “I misspoke. What did you say about oranges?”
― Liz Carlyle, The Devil to Pay

“The truth is, Sidonie, I don’t fare well with women.” He spoke coolly, and without looking at her. “It is my own fault, of course. I…I neglect them. I forget where I’m supposed to be, and when I’m supposed to be there. I’m irresponsible. I drink to excess, gamble to excess, and sometimes I brawl. I never remember special occasions. And I very often go to sleep before they’ve…well, never mind that.” Devellyn fell silent for a moment. “And I cheat on them,” he quietly added. “Dreadfully. Did I mention that?”

“You did not,” she answered. “But a full disclosure of one’s fidelity, or even one’s skill in the bedroom, is not, strictly speaking, necessary before having dinner with someone.”

Devellyn smiled down at her a little wearily. “Ah, Sid, I have no charm at all, have I?” he said almost regretfully.”
― Liz Carlyle, The Devil to Pay

“Even now she could not muster much angst toward Lord Devon. She had experienced twenty-and-four kisses in her lifetime stolen by gentlemen, bohemians, even royalty from all the continental nations, men who could not kiss without trying to maul her. But number twenty-five — Wilhelm — had set her aside despite his obvious arousal. Rather chivalrous, in a way.”
― Moriah Densley, Song For Sophia