Evie St Vincent To Amelia Quotes

#1. She heard the door open again. "Back to w-warm the bed?" she asked.
But the voice that answered wasn't the maid's.
"As a matter of fact... yes."
Evie stilled at the sound of a deep, silky murmur.
"I passed the maid on the stairs and told her she wouldn't be needed tonight," he continued. "'If there's one thing I do well,' I told her, 'it's warming my wife's bed.'"
By this time Evie was fumbling to push the screen aside, nearly pushing it over.
St. Vincent reached her in a few graceful strides, folding her in his arms. "Easy, love. No need for haste. Believe me, I'm not going anywhere."
They stood together for a long, wordless moment, breathing, holding tight.
Eventually St. Vincent tilted Evie's head back and stared down at her. He was tawny and golden haired, his pale blue eyes glittering like gems in the face of a fallen angel. He was a long, lean-framed man, always exquisitely dressed and groomed. But he had not been sleeping well, she saw. There were faint shadows beneath his eyes, and signs of weariness on his face. The touches of human vulnerability, however, only served to make him more handsome, softening what might otherwise have been a gleaming, godlike remoteness. #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#2. Evie stiffened and whimpered in surprise at the realization that she was naked... that St. Vincent was making love to her and had been for some minutes.
St. Vincent glanced up at her. With the slight flush on the crests of his cheeks, his eyes seemed lighter and more startling than usual. The hint of a relaxed but devious smile touched the corners of his mouth. "You're difficult to awaken," he said huskily. #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#3. Evie stiffened nervously when she felt his hands moving along the line of fasteners on the back of her brown wool. "What are you doing?"
"Helping you to change your gown."
"I don't want to. Not now. I… oh, please don't!"
But he persisted, sliding one hand around her front to keep her in place, while his other continued to release the row of buttons. Rather than resort to an undignified struggle, Evie flushed and held still, goose bumps rising on her exposed skin. "I w-wish you wouldn't handle me in such a cavalier manner!"
"The word 'cavalier' implies indifference," he replied, pushing the gown over her hips. It fell in a scratchy heap to the floor. "And there is nothing indifferent about my reaction to you, love."
"One could wish for a bit of respect," Evie exclaimed, shivering before him in her underclothes. "Especially after… after…"
"You don't need respect. You need comfort, and holding, and possibly a good long tumble in bed with me. #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#4. Don't come near me with those," Annabelle said firmly. She shook her head with a grin, watching as Evie solemnly held up her own arms for Lillian to cut holes beneath her sleeves. This was one of the things she most adored about Evie, who was shy and proper, but often willing to join in some wildly impractical plan or adventure. "Have you both lost your minds?" Annabelle asked, laughing. "Oh, what a bad influence she is on you, Evie."

"She's married to St. Vincent, who is the worst possible influence," Lillian protested. "How much damage could I do after that? #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#5. Coming to the balcony, they both rested their elbows on the railing and looked down into the main room, which was filled wall-to-wall with patrons. Evie saw the antique-gold gleam of Sebastian's hair as he half sat on the desk in the corner, relaxed and smiling as he conversed with the crowd of men around him. His actions of ten days ago in saving Evie's life had excited a great deal of public admiration and sympathy, especially after an article in the Times had portrayed him in a heroic light. That, and the perception that his friendship with the powerful Westcliff had renewed, were all it had taken for Sebastian to gain immediate and profound popularity. Piles of invitations arrived at the club daily, requesting the attendance of Lord and Lady St. Vincent at balls, soirees, and other social events, which they declined for reasons of mourning.
There were letters as well, heavily perfumed and written by feminine hands. Evie had not ventured to open any of them, nor had she asked about the senders. The letters had accumulated in a pile in the office, remaining sealed and untouched, until Evie had finally been moved to say something to him earlier that morning. "You have a large pile of unread correspondence," she had told him, as they had taken breakfast together in his room. "It's occupying half the space in the office. What shall we do with all the letters?" An impish smile rose to her lips as she added. "Shall I read them to you while you rest?"
His eyes narrowe #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#6. Evie felt queer and light-headed as she stood facing St. Vincent. The moment he slid the ring onto her finger, her heart began beating much too fast, setting off reckless currents of something that was neither eagerness or fear, but a new emotion that heightened her senses unbearably. There was no word for it, this feeling. Tension gripped her while the pounding of her pulse refused to abate. Their hands flattened together, his fingers much longer than hers, his palm smooth and hot.
His head inclined slightly, his face covering hers. Although he was expressionless, a hint of color had glazed the high planes of his cheekbones and crossed the bridge of his nose. And his breath was faster than usual. Surprised by the realization that she had already come to know something as intimate as the normal rhythm of his breathing, Evie averted her gaze. She saw the blacksmith taking a length of white ribbon from one of his daughters, and she flinched a little as he looped it firmly around their joined wrists.
A wordless murmur tickled her ear, and she felt St. Vincent's free hand come up to the side of her neck, stroking her as if she were a nervous animal. She relaxed at his touch, while his fingertips moved over her skin with sensitive lightness. #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#7. Good evening," Evie murmured, taking a place at the table beside Sebastian. She smiled as she glanced up at him. "Are you clever with numbers, my lord?"
"I've always thought so," Sebastian replied ruefully, "until now. Rohan ... are the other croupiers adept with probability calculations?"
"Adept enough, my lord. They are well-trained. They all know how to tempt a player to make wagers to the house's advantage, how to identify a good player from a bad one ... "
"Trained by whom?" Evie asked.
Cam's grin was a flash of startling white in his honey-skinned face. "By me, of course. No one understands gaming as well as I."
Smiling, Evie glanced up at her husband. "All he lacks is confidence," she remarked dryly. #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#8. And since Evie's husband, St. Vincent, had decided not to go fishing, Evie said
she would rather remain in bed with him.
"You would have much more fun fishing with me," Daisy had told her.
"No," Evie had said decisively, "I wouldn't. #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#9. Evie awoke to the cheerful glow of a tiny flame. A candle sat on the bedside table. Someone was sitting on the edge of the bed…Lillian…looking rumpled and tired, with her hair tied at the nape of her neck.

Slowly Evie sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Is it evening?" she croaked. "I must have slept all afternoon."

Lillian smiled wryly. "You've slept for a day and a half, dear. Westcliff and I have looked after St. Vincent, while Mr. Rohan has been running the club."

Evie ran her tongue inside her pasty mouth and sat up straighter. Her heart began to thud with dread as she struggled to ask, "Sebastian…is he…"

Lillian took Evie's chapped hand in hers and asked gently, "Which do you want first - the good news, or the bad news?"

Evie shook her head, unable to speak. She stared at her friend without blinking, her lips trembling.

"The good news," Lillian said, "is that his fever has broken, and his wound is no longer putrid." She grinned as she added, "The bad news is that you may have to endure being married to him for the rest of your life."

Evie burst into tears. She put her free hand over her eyes, while her shoulders shook with sobs. She felt Lillian's fingers wrap more firmly around hers.

"Yes," came Lillian's dry voice, "I'd weep too, if he were my husband - though for entirely different reasons. #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#10. Some of her fear must have shone through her effort to maintain a reassuring facade, for her father took one of her hands and exerted a feeble tug to bring her closer to him. "Evie," came his faint whisper, "I'm going to your mother, y'see ... she's got 'em to leave a back door open ... so I can steal into 'eaven."
She laughed quietly even as a few hot tears spilled from her eyes. #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#11. He concluded the speech with an irritated motion of his hands.
Unfortunately, Evie had been conditioned by too many encounters with Uncle Peregrine to discern between angry gestures and the beginnings of a physical attack. She flinched instinctively, her own arms flying up to shield her head. When the expected pain of a blow did not come, she let out a breath and tentatively lowered her arms to find Sebastian staring at her with blank astonishment.
Then his face went dark.
"Evie," he said, his voice containing a bladelike ferocity that frightened her. "Did you think I was about to…Christ. Someone hit you. Someone hit you in the past - who the hell was it?" He reached for her suddenly - too suddenly - and she stumbled backward, coming up hard against the wall. Sebastian went very still. "Goddamn," he whispered. Appearing to struggle with some powerful emotion, he stared at her intently. After a long moment, he spoke softly. "I would never strike a woman. I would never harm you. You know that, don't you?"
Transfixed by the light, glittering eyes that held hers with such intensity, Evie couldn't move or make a sound. She started as he approached her slowly. "It's all right," he murmured. "Let me come to you. It's all right. Easy." One of his arms slid around her, while he used his free hand to smooth her hair, and then she was breathing, sighing, as relief flowed through her. Sebastian brought her closer against him, his mouth brushing her temple. "Who was it #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#12. Westcliff paused at the bedside and glanced at the two women. "This is going to be rather unpleasant," he said. "Therefore, if anyone has a weak stomach…" His gaze lingered meaningfully on Lillian, who grimaced.
"I do, as you well know," she admitted. "But I can overcome it if necessary."
A sudden smile appeared on the earl's impassive face. "We'll spare you for now, love. Would you like to go to another room?"
"I'll sit by the window," Lillian said, and sped gratefully away from the bed.
Westcliff glanced at Evie, a silent question in his eyes.
"Where shall I stand?" she asked.
"On my left. We'll need a great many towels and rags, so if you would be willing to replace the soiled ones when necessary - "
"Yes, of course." She took her place beside him, while Cam stood on his right. As Evie looked up at Westcliff's bold, purposeful profile, she suddenly found it hard to believe that this powerful man, whom she had always found so intimidating, was willing to go to this extent to help a friend who had betrayed him. A rush of gratitude came over her, and she could not stop herself from tugging lightly at his shirtsleeve. "My lord…before we begin, I must tell you…"
Westcliff inclined his dark head. "Yes?"
Since he wasn't as tall as Sebastian, it was a relatively easy matter for Evie to stand on her toes and kiss his lean cheek. "Thank you for helping him," she said, staring into his surprised black eyes. "You're the most honora #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#13. His hands moved lightly over her velvet-covered back. His voice was very soft. "Have you been a good girl in my absence?"
"Yes, of course," she said breathlessly.
St. Vincent gave her a disapproving glance and kissed her with a seductive gentleness that sent her pulse racing. "We'll have to remedy that immediately. I refuse to tolerate proper behavior from my wife."
She touched his face, smiling as he nipped at her exploring fingertips. "I've missed you, Sebastian."
"Have you, love?" He unfastened the buttons of her robe, the light eyes glittering with heat as her skin was revealed. "What part did you miss the most?"
"Your mind," she said, and smiled at his expression.
"I was hoping for a far more depraved answer than that."
"Your mind is depraved," she told him solemnly.
He gave a husky laugh. "True."
She gasped as his experienced hand slipped inside her robe. "What part of m-me did you miss the most?"
"I missed you from head to toe. I missed every freckle. I missed the taste of you... the feel of your hair in my hands... Evie, my love, you are shamefully overdressed. #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#14. His mouth stroked over her face, his breath rushing across her skin in hot drifts that made her quiver. "Evie…during the past few days I've had nothing to do but lie in this bed and think about things that I've spent my entire life trying to avoid. I once told you that I wasn't meant for a wife and family. That I wouldn't have any interest in a child, if you…" He hesitated for a long moment. "But…the truth is…I want you to have my baby. I didn't know how much, until I thought that I would never have the opportunity. I thought - " He broke off, a self-mocking smile touching his lips. "Damn it. I don't know how to be a husband, or a father. But since your standards in both areas seem to be relatively low, I may have half a chance at pleasing you." He grinned at her mock frown, then sobered. "There are many ways I can prevent you from conceiving. But if or when you ever decide that you're ready, I want you to tell me - "
Evie stopped him with her mouth. In the blazing minutes that followed, no further words were possible. #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#15. I suppose ... " she said reflectively, "I could make more of an effort to overcome my shyness."
"Do as you please. But when you're with Rohan or any other man, you had better keep in mind that you belong completely to me."
Trying to interpret the comment, Evie stared at him with astonishment. "Are you ... is it possible ... you're jealous?"
Sudden bafflement flickered across his features. "Yes," he said gruffly. "It would seem so." And throwing Evie a glance of bewildered annoyance, he left the room. #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#16. Mr. Rohan," she heard Beatrix ask, "are you going to marry my sister?"
Amelia choked on her tea and set the cup down. She sputtered and coughed into her napkin.
"Hush, Beatrix," Win murmured.
"But she's wearing his ring - "
Poppy clamped her hand over Beatrix's mouth. "Hush!"
"I might," Cam replied. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he continued. "I find your sister a bit lacking in humor. And she doesn't seem particularly obedient. On the other hand - "
One set of French doors flew open, accompanied by the sound of breaking glass. Everyone on the back terrace looked up in startlement, the men rising from their chairs.
"No," came Win's soft cry.
Merripen stood there, having dragged himself from his sickbed. He was bandaged and disheveled, but he looked far from helpless. He looked like a maddened bull, his dark head lowered, his hands clenched into massive fists. And his stare, promising death, was firmly fixed on Cam.
There was no mistaking the bloodlust of a Roma whose kinswoman had been dishonored.
"Oh, God," Amelia muttered.
Cam, who stood beside her chair, glanced down at her questioningly. "Did you say something to him?"
Amelia turned red as she recalled her blood-spotted nightgown and the maid's expression. "It must have been servants' talk."
Cam stared at the enraged giant with resignation. "You may be in luck," he said to Amelia. "It looks as if our betrothal is going to end prematurely." #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#17. Evie," she asked, "how do you know if you love someone?"
Evie considered the question as they passed a low circular boundary hedge containing an explosion of multi-colored primulas. "I'm sure this is when I'm s-supposed to say something wise and helpful," she said with a self-deprecating shrug. "But my situation was different from yours. St. Vincent and I didn't expect to fall in love. It caught us both unaware."
"Yes, but how did you know?"
"It was the moment I realized he was willing to die for me. I don't think anyone, including St. Vincent, believed he was capable of self-sacrifice. It taught me that you can assume you know a person quite well - but that person can s-surprise you. Everything seemed to change from one moment to the next - suddenly he became the most important thing in the world to me. No, not important ... necessary. #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#18. As Sebastian, Lord St. Vincent, stared at the young woman who had just barged her way into his London residence, it occurred to him that he might have tried to abduct the wrong heiress last week at Stony Cross Park. #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#19. Taking the ring from her, Sebastian slid it onto his own hand. His hands were so much larger that the circlet would only fit the tip of his smallest finger. Grasping her chin in an intractable hold, he glared into her eyes. "I'll take your bet," he said grimly. "I'm going to win it. And in three months, I'm going to put this back on your finger, and take you to bed, and do things to you that are outlawed in the civilized world."
Evie's resolve did not shield her from the heart-thumping alarm that any rational woman would feel upon hearing such an ominous statement. Nor did it prevent her knees from turning to jelly as he jerked her against his body and fitted his mouth to hers.
Her hands, suspended in mid-air, went to his head in a trembling butterfly descent. The texture of his hair, the locks so cool and thick on the surface, so warm and damp at the roots, was too alluring to resist. She slid her fingers into the gleaming golden layers and pulled him even closer, helplessly reveling in the urgent pressure of his mouth. Their tongues mated, slid, stroked, and with each slippery-sweet caress inside the joined cavern of their mouths, she felt a hot coiling deep in her belly… no, deeper than that… in the tightening, liquefying core where she had once taken his invading flesh. It shocked her to realize how much she wanted him there again. She whimpered as he pulled away from her, while frustration washed over them both.
"You didn't say that I couldn't kiss you, #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#20. I suppose… I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. But knowing what I do of your past… I assumed…"
Her lame attempt at an apology seemed to erode the remnants of Sebastian's self-control. "Well, your assumption was wrong! If you haven't yet noticed, I'm busier than the devil in a high wind, every minute of the day. I don't have the damned time for a tumble. And if I did - " He stopped abruptly. All semblance of the elegant viscount Evie had once watched from afar in Lord Westcliff's drawing room had vanished. He was rumpled and bruised and furious. And he wasn't breathing at all well. "If I did - " He broke off again, a flush crossing the crests of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.
Evie saw the exact moment when his self-restraint snapped. Alarm jolted through her, and she lurched toward the closed door. Before she had even made a step, she found herself seized and pinned against the wall by his body and hands. The smell of sweat-dampened linen and healthy, aroused male filled her nostrils.
Once he had caught her, Sebastian pressed his parted lips against the thin skin of her temple. His breath snagged. Another moment of stillness. Evie felt the electrifying touch of his tongue at the very tip of her eyebrow. He breathed against the tiny wet spot, a waft of hellfire that sent chills through her entire body. Slowly he brought his mouth to her ear, and traced the intricate inner edges.
His whisper seemed to come from the darkest recesses of her own #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#21. Evie stayed, however, the silence spinning out until it seemed that the pounding of his heart must be audible. "Do you want to know what I think, Sebastian?" she finally asked.
It took every particle of his will to keep his voice controlled. "Not particularly."
"I think that if I leave this room, you're going to ring that bell again. But no matter how many times you ring, or how often I come running, you'll never bring yourself to tell me what you really want."
Sebastian slitted his eyes open…a mistake. Her face was very close, her soft mouth only inches from his. "At the moment, all I want is some peace," he grumbled. "So if you don't mind - "
Her lips touched his, warm silk and sweetness, and he felt the dizzying brush of her tongue. A floodgate of desire opened, and he was drowning in undiluted pleasure, more powerful than anything he had known before. He lifted his hands as if to push her head away, but instead his trembling fingers curved around her skull, holding her to him. The fiery curls of her hair were compressed beneath his palms as he kissed her with ravenous urgency, his tongue searching the winsome delight of her mouth.
Sebastian was mortified to discover that he was gasping like an untried boy when Evie ended the kiss. Her lips were rosy and damp, her freckles gleaming like gold dust against the deep pink of her cheeks. "I also think," she said unevenly, "that you're going to lose our bet."
Recalled to sanity by a flash of i #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#22. Evie shook her head in confusion, staring from her husband's wrathful countenance to Gully's carefully blank one. "I don't understand - "
"Call it a rite of passage," Sebastian snapped, and left her with long strides that quickly broke into a run.
Picking up her skirts, Evie hurried after him. Rite of passage? What did he mean? And why wasn't Cam willing to do something about the brawl? Unable to match Sebastian's reckless pace, she trailed behind, taking care not to trip over her skirts as she descended the flight of stairs. The noise grew louder as she approached a small crowd that had congregated around the coffee room, shouts and exclamations renting the air. She saw Sebastian strip off his coat and thrust it at someone, and then he was shouldering his way into the melee. In a small clearing, three milling figures swung their fists and clumsily attempted to push and shove one another while the onlookers roared with excitement.
Sebastian strategically attacked the man who seemed the most unsteady on his feet, spinning him around, jabbing and hooking with a few deft blows until the dazed fellow tottered forward and collapsed to the carpeted floor. The remaining pair turned in tandem and rushed at Sebastian, one of them attempting to pin his arms while the other came at him with churning fists.
Evie let out a cry of alarm, which somehow reached Sebastian's ears through the thunder of the crowd. Distracted, he glanced in her direction, and he was insta #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#23. After Evie had finished her plate, Sebastian tugged her to the billiards table and handed her a cue stick with a leather tip. Ignoring her attempts to refuse him, he proceeded to instruct her in the basics of the game. "Don't try to claim this is too scandalous for you," he told her with mock severity. "After running off with me to Gretna Green, nothing is beyond you. Certainly not one little billiards game. Bend over the table."
She complied awkwardly, flushing as she felt him lean over her, his body forming an exciting masculine cage as his hands arranged hers on the cue stick. "Now," she heard him say, "curl your index finger around the tip of the shaft. That's right. Don't grip so tightly, sweet…let your hand relax. Perfect." His head was close to hers, the light scent of sandalwood cologne rising from his warm skin. "Try to imagine a path between the cue ball - that's the white one - and the colored ball. You'll want to strike right about there" - he pointed to a place just above center on the cue ball - "to send the object ball into the side pocket. It's a straight-on shot, you see? Lower your head a bit. Draw the cue stick back and try to strike in a smooth motion."
Attempting the shot, Evie felt the tip of the cue stick fail to make proper contact with the white ball, sending it spinning clumsily off to the side of the table.
"A miscue," Sebastian remarked, deftly catching the cue ball in his hand and repositioning it. "Whenever that happens, reach f #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#24. Phoebe had recounted some injustice done to her by a playmate, saying she wouldn't accept the girl's apology, Evie had persuaded her to reconsider for the sake of kindness.
"But she's a bad, selfish girl," Phoebe had said indignantly.
Her mother's reply was gentle but matter-of-fact. "Kindness counts the most when it's given to people who don't deserve it."
"Does Gabriel have to be kind to everyone too?" Phoebe had demanded.
"Yes, darling."
"Does Father?"
"No, Redbird," Sebastian had replied, his mouth twitching at the corners. "That's why I married your mother - she's kind enough for two people."
"Mother," Gabriel had asked hopefully, "could you be kind enough for three people?"
At that, their father had taken a sudden intense interest in his newspaper, lifting it in front of his face. A quiet wheeze emerged from behind it.
"I'm afraid not, dear," Evie had said gently, her eyes sparkling. "But I'm sure you and your sister can find a great deal of kindness in your own hearts. #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#25. For some reason Miss Jenner had seen fit to come uninvited to Sebastian's home at a scandalously late hour. To make the situation even more compromising, she was unaccompanied - and spending more than a half minute alone with Sebastian was sufficient to ruin any girl. He was debauched, amoral, and perversely proud of it. He excelled at his chosen occupation - that of degenerate seducer - and he had set a standard few rakes could aspire to. #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#26. You're not the same as you were a few days ago," he murmured. "You're no longer a wallflower, nor a virgin, nor the helpless child who had to endure life with the Maybricks. You're a viscountess with a sizable fortune, and a scoundrel of a husband. Whose rules will you adhere to now?"
Evie shook her head in weary confusion. She discovered that as Sebastian worked the tension out of her back, her control over her emotions seemed to dissolve at an equal rate. She was afraid that if she tried to speak, she might cry. Instead she remained silent, squeezing her eyes shut and fighting to keep her breathing even.
"So far you've spent your life striving to please others," she heard him say. "With a rather poor rate of success. Why don't you try pleasing yourself for a change? Why not live by your own rules? What has obeying the conventions ever gotten you?"
Evie pondered the questions, and her breath hissed in pleasure as he found a particularly sore spot.
"I like the conventions," she said after a moment. "There is nothing wrong with being an ordinary person, is there?"
"No. But you're not ordinary. #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#27. Swift came to the table and bowed politely. "My lady," he said to Lillian, "what a pleasure it is to see you again. May I offer my renewed congratulations on your marriage to Lord Westcliff, and…" He hesitated, for although Lillian was obviously pregnant, it would be impolite to refer to her condition. "…you are looking quite well," he finished.
"I'm the size of a barn," Lillian said flatly, puncturing his attempt at diplomacy.
Swift's mouth firmed as if he was fighting to suppress a grin. "Not at all," he said mildly, and glanced at Annabelle and Evie.
They all waited for Lillian to make the introductions.
Lillian complied grudgingly. "This is Mr. Swift," she muttered, waving her hand in his direction. "Mrs. Simon Hunt and Lady St. Vincent."
Swift bent deftly over Annabelle's hand. He would have done the same for Evie except she was holding the baby.
Isabelle's grunts and whimpers were escalating and would soon become a full-out wail unless something was done about it.
"That is my daughter Isabelle," Annabelle said apologetically. "She's teething."
That should get rid of him quickly, Daisy thought. Men were terrified of crying babies.
"Ah." Swift reached into his coat and rummaged through a rattling collection of articles. What on earth did he have in there? She watched as he pulled out his pen-knife, a bit of fishing line and a clean white handkerchief.
"Mr. Swift, what are you doing?" Evie asked with a quizzical sm #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#28. Upon learning of Sebastian's success with the commissioner, Cam Rohan remarked admiringly, "That was a spruce trick, my lord. I'm beginning to think you can persuade anyone to do nearly anything."
Sebastian grinned and glanced at Evie, who was sitting nearby. "I should think Lady St. Vincent is proof of that," he said. #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#29. He opened his eyes and focused on her with difficulty. "If I need divine grace," he whispered, "I'm in trouble ... unless we can find some corrupt angel to bribe."
A startled laugh escaped her. "Don't be blasphemous. #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#30. Two nights after the Chaworth ball, Gabriel practiced at the billiards table in the private apartments above Jenner's. The luxurious rooms, which had once been occupied by his parents in the earlier days of their marriage, were now reserved for the convenience of the Challon family. Raphael, one of his younger brothers, usually lived at the club, but at the moment was on an overseas trip to America. He'd gone to source and purchase a large quantity of dressed pine timber on behalf of a Challon-owned railway construction company. American pine, for its toughness and elasticity, was used as transom ties for railways, and it was in high demand now that native British timber was in scarce supply.
The club wasn't the same without Raphael's carefree presence, but spending time alone here was better than the well-ordered quietness of his terrace at Queen's Gate. Gabriel relished the comfortably masculine atmosphere, spiced with scents of expensive liquor, pipe smoke, oiled Morocco leather upholstery, and the acrid pungency of green baize cloth. The fragrance never failed to remind him of the occasions in his youth when he had accompanied his father to the club.
For years, the duke had gone almost weekly to Jenner's to meet with managers and look over the account ledgers. His wife Evie had inherited it from her father, Ivo Jenner, a former professional boxer. The club was an inexhaustible financial engine, its vast profits having enabled the duke to improve his agricultural #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#31. Evie…" His whisper stirred the tiny wisps at her hairline. "I want to make love to you."
Her blood turned to boiling honey. Eventually she managed a stammering reply. "I-I thought y-you never called it that."
His hands lifted to her face, his fingertips exploring delicately. She remained docile beneath his caress while the scent of his skin, fresh and clove-like, drugged her like some narcotic incense.
Reaching to his own throat, Sebastian fumbled beneath his shirt and extracted the wedding band on the fine chain. He tugged it, breaking the fragile links, and let the chain drop to the floor. Evie's breathing hastened as he reached for her left hand and slid the gold band onto her fourth finger. Their hands matched together, palm to palm, wrist to wrist, just as they had been bound during their wedding ceremony. His forehead lowered to hers, and he whispered, "I want to fill every part of you…breathe the air from your lungs…leave my handprints on your soul. I want to give you more pleasure than you can bear. I want to make love to you, Evie, as I have never done with anyone before."
She was now trembling so violently that she could hardly stand. "Your w-wound - we have to be careful - "
"You let me worry about that." His mouth took hers in a soft, smoldering kiss. Releasing her hand, he gathered her body closer, applying explicit pressure against her shoulders, back, hips, until she was molded completely against him. Evie wanted him with a despera #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#32. Twins. Out for their first Season this year. It seems that your idiot son was caught in flagrante delicto with one of them."
He takes after his father," Evie said.
Looking highly insulted, Sebastian rose to his feet in a graceful motion and pulled her up with him. "His father was never caught."
"Except by me," Evie said smugly.
Sebastian laughed. "True."
"What does in flagrante delicto mean, exactly?"
"The literal translation? 'While the crime is blazing.'" Picking her up easily, he said, "I believe a demonstration is in order."
"But what about the s-scandal? What about Gabriel, and the Ravenel girl, and-"
"The rest of the world can wait," Sebastian said firmly. "I'm going to debauch you for the ten thousandth time, Evie- and for once, I want you to pay attention."
"Yes, sir," she said demurely, and looped her arms around her husband's neck as he carried her to their bedroom. #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#33. Evie gave birth later that year to a high-spirited girl with flame-colored curls, leading St. Vincent to the conclusion that it was his destiny to be loved by many red-haired women. He was very pleased. #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#34. Westcliff sees an odd sort of logic in why you would finally be the one to win St. Vincent's heart. He says a girl like you would appeal to ... hmm, how did he put it? ... I can't remember the exact words, but it was something like ... you would appeal to St. Vincent's deepest, most secret fantasy."
Evie felt her cheeks flushing while a skirmish of pain and hope took place in the tired confines of her chest. She tried to respond sardonically. "I should think his fantasy is to consort with as many women as possible."
A grin crossed Lillian's lips. "Dear, that is not St. Vincent's fantasy, it's his reality. And you're probably the first sweet, decent girl he's ever had anything to do with."
"He spent quite a lot of time with you and Daisy in Hampshire," Evie countered.
That seemed to amuse Lillian further. "I'm not at all sweet, dear. And neither is my sister. Don't say you have been laboring under that misconception all this time? #Quote by Lisa Kleypas