Quotes from Anna Campbell

He sat up, his shirt sagging to reveal the curve of one powerful shoulder. The sight of smooth tanned skin dried every drop of moisture from her mouth. Such a contrast to his marred face. She hadn't considered him handsome at first, even disregarding the scars. With every hour, his physical allure grew. Right now, she'd scorn a handsome man as banal. Idiot that she was, she'd discovered a taste for dark and dangerous and damaged.

Her smile was provoking. Where had she learned to smile like that? The woman who arrived at his castle wouldn't smile like that. She'd been a furled rosebud, fragrant with potential. This Sidonie was a full-blown flower, sweet-scented and luscious.

He was looking at her. At her... there . She couldn't mistake the unalloyed yearning on his face as he knelt between her white thighs. It should disgust her. He should disgust her. But the idea of him seeing that hidden part of her made her shake with raw excitement.

I look forward to leaving here in a week with both pride and virtue intact." "And I look forward to nights of untold rapture in your arms, my dear Miss Forsythe.

You're considerate and funny and you're a lover out of my dreams. Should I develop a taste for luxuries- which I may well do after this week- you're so plump in the pocket, you wouldn't notice if I started buying gold-plated underthings." His smile was uncertain, nonetheless it was a smile. Her churning misery eased a fraction. "I'd notice anything you did with your undergarments, amore mio.

I'm beginning to think there's no such thing as a man worth the air he breathes.

Then she'd stared at him with those radiant blue eyes and asked him to let he go. And bugger, bugger, bugger, he'd suddenly imagined he was sodding Sir Galahad.

He should laugh, tease, treat her lightly, keep her guessing. But instead his words rang with unstrategic truth. "I remember everything you've ever said to me.

The law gives a husband ownership of his wife. I value my judgment too dearly to sacrifice it to another's. And there's no escape—the contract binds until death. A married woman is little better than a slave.

He curled one arm around Caro's slender waist and took her gloved hand in his, and his heart leaped with an excitement he hadn't felt since he was a stripling. It was humiliating. It was disturbing. It was unacceptable. And after this long enchantment, he acknowledged that it was inescapable.

She clenched into climax, clutching at him, imperiously demanding he stay inside her. Still he rode her. Taking her higher into blinding pleasure. The blazing rapture sent her reeling. At the peak, she called out his name. This time when her passage gripped him, she held on until he joined the glorious conflagration. She milked him until he was spent. Even then quivers of ecstasy shook her.

Love, it seemed, made beasts of men. How wise he'd been to avoid it all these years.

Matthew emerged from sleep slowly, luxuriously. It must be nearly noon. He swam up from the depths of a calm warm sea. The glittering sea of the far south that he'd read about. A blue sea under a glorious sun. A sea full of pearls and exotic creatures and soft silky water. And mermaids. Indubitably there were mermaids in this sea. His particular mermaid slept naked in his arms. When he was inside her, she undulated in endless waves like a sea of pleasure.

Seeing her was like standing in sunlight after a long, hard winter, but he couldn't be easy meeting her in such surroundings. "Oh, Jonas," she said in a broken voiced started to cry. "Tesoro... sweetheart... my love," he choked out, cradling her in his arms. "Don't cry. Please don't cry.

Seeing her was like standing in sunlight after a long, hard winter, but he couldn't be easy meeting her in such surroundings. "Oh, Jonas," she said in a broken voice and started to cry. "Tesoro... sweetheart... my love," he choked out, cradling her in his arms. "Don't cry. Please don't cry.

She's yours?" "Aye." He'd ridden down from London in easy stages to avoid having to trust to hired hacks. "She's a beauty." She stroked Saraband's silky nose. The horse extended her neck for more attention. "Far too fine to stay out in the rain." His lips twitched. He'd offer Cinderella half his fortune if she'd describe him in similar terms.

Her hair was a tangle. Her filthy clothes would make any self-respecting debutante shriek in horror. Dirt streaked her piquant face. And still he thought she was utterly irresistible. He was in a bad way indeed. Several

Ignoring his protesting muscles, he pushed the hay to the ground. He muffled a groan, but Charlotte heard him. "Are you all right?" He mustered a smile. "I've been living in London too long. A Scotsman should laugh off what we've done today." "I need to meet more Scotsmen. They're an impressive tribe." "We are at that," he said, tossing over another bale, then descending to the ground. Charlotte

It gradually dawned on him that he needed time and an ocean of love to heal the wounds of the past.

The very idea that she might discover his weakness for her made his blood run cold. Amelia was a sweet girl, but she'd surely burst into laughter at the idea of dependable and boring Nigel Dash falling in love with the most sought-after girl in London. Silverton

He didn't wait for her to finish. He never did. A habit unacceptable in a husband.

First of all, if I were a girl I'd much rather marry you than Broadmore—" "Yes, well, you're obviously not a girl, so your opinion on the matter is rather suspect." "And," Silverton said, ignoring the interruption, "you're also one of the richest men in England. Parents love to marry their daughters off to men like you." Nigel

Well, Nigel?" Silverton's sardonic tone drew him back to the conversation. "You're right in that I wouldn't expect Miss Easton to hold the lack of a title against a fellow, but she doesn't think about me as a…prospective suitor." Nigel paused, forcing himself to accept the grim reality. "She sees me only as a friend." And

He wanted her. He loved her. He had no idea where he stood with her. The thought of riding away tomorrow felt like someone scraped out his liver with a blunt knife. Lyle