“He grunted and stirred, withdrawing from her. She only had a moment to be disappointed and then he flipped her to her back and rose over her, powerful and male. He casually parted her legs with his knees and thrust into her again, hot and hard.She gasped at the swift invasion, the lovely feeling, and then his face was next to hers, his big palms cradling her cheeks.“What I want,” he drawled, “is ye. Nothin’ else.”

“He grunted and stirred, withdrawing from her. She only had a moment to be disappointed and then he flipped her to her back and rose over her, powerful and male. He casually parted her legs with his knees and thrust into her again, hot and hard.She gasped at the swift invasion, the lovely feeling, and then his face was next to hers, his big palms cradling her cheeks.“What I want,” he drawled, “is ye. Nothin’ else.”

“It's strange, but I find myself more disillusioned by a man who has such easily persuaded views than I would be by one whose views were entirely opposite but passionately held. Isn't that quixotic of me?”

“I'll never look at you in any way but complete admiration.” He stroked her hair soothingly. “You will never be a millstone about my neck. Rather you're the sunshine that brightens my day.” He swallowed. “Don't you see? You brought me into the daylight. You've embraced parts of me that I was never able to let see light. Don't make me retreat again into the night. (Winter Makepeace)”

“But you must be awash in a sea of compliments, my lady. Every gentleman you meet must voice his admiration, his wish to make love to you. And those are only the ones who may voice such thoughts. All about you are men who cannot speak their admiration, who must remain mute from lack of social standing or fear of offending you. Only their thoughts light the air about you, following you like a trail of perfume, heady but invisible. (Winter Makepeace)”

“For a moment she lay still in the big bed, blinking sleepily, loath to move.And then she realized that the angel’s song hadn’t stopped on her waking.Silence sat up. The tantalizingly beautiful voice was coming from the half-open door to Mickey O’Connor’s room.”

“She swallowed and looked down at the artichoke petals piled neatly on the side of her plate. Her center certainly felt like it was melting, growing soft and wet just from the rasp of Mr. O’Connor’s voice. Why should a man already devilishly handsome also have a voice that could charm birds from the sky? It simply wasn’t fair.”

“Dear God. She ached, wanting something that she knew was a sin.Wanting a man who was sin itself.”

“I love you,” he whispered as he thrust again. And again. Each movement controlled. Each small movement devastating in its effect. “I love you.”She lost all concept of time. She lost her place and surroundings. She couldn’t remember who he was—who she was. She lost her mind.”

“It hardly mattered. She was tired of waiting for him to acknowledge who he was. Tired of donning a false mask of gaiety when she was so much more—felt so much more—beneath. No one had ever noticed her mask. No one but him. If he couldn’t or wouldn’t make the first move, then damn it, she would.”

“She threw one leg over his and straddled his lap, then reached under herself and found him again.He tore his mouth from hers. “Wait.”“No.” She looked him frankly in the eyes. “I don’t care if you spill at once. I need you inside me now.”His beautiful eyes widened and then narrowed. “You’ll not always hold the reins, my lady.”She smiled sweetly. “Naturally not, but I do now.”

“There was no sound, but she felt a movement, a shifting of the air in her room, the warmth of another presence.Isabel opened her eyes. He was there, at the foot of her bed, a single candle in his hand, dressed only in shirtsleeves, waistcoat, and breeches.“Forgive me,” he whispered as he set the candle down. “I could not stay away.”