“What did you do to your hair? I don’t like it as much.” His brow knitted. “How do you like it?” “I prefer the curls.” He looked as if she’d told him she preferred him with three eyes. “You used to make fun of them. You told me that if Bo Peep had a child with one of her sheep it would have hair like mine.” She burst out laughing—and gasped at the pain that shot through her scalp. “You are not making it up, are you? Did I really say that?” “Sometimes you called me Goldilocks.” She had to remind herself not to laugh again. “And you married me? I sound like a very odious sort of girl.” “I was a very odious sort of boy, so you might say we were evenly matched.” She didn’t know enough to comment upon that, but when he was near, she was… happier.” DavidSherry ThomasHelenaTempting The Bride Book:Tempting the Bride Source: Tempting the Bride
“She fluttered her fan. “And do you know what they say of women of a certain age, what they want above all?” Desire simmered in him at her not quite smile. “Do tell.” “To be rid of you, Hastings. So that they don’t have to waste what remains of their precious few years suffering your lecherous looks.” “If I stopped looking at you lecherously, you’d miss it.” “Why don’t we test that hypothesis? You stop and I’ll tell you after ten years or so whether I miss it.” .... He rose and bowed slightly. “You wouldn’t last two weeks, Miss Fitzhugh.” DavidSherry ThomasHelenaTempting The Bride Book:Tempting the Bride Source: Tempting the Bride
“Her hand reached up and took a strand of his hair between her fingers. “Simple as that.” She gently pulled on that curl and let it go. “It’s so springy.” They’d barely grazed at the truth, but I she was satisfied—and distracted. By his hair, of all things. “I feel like a sheep that has been overlooked during spring shearing,” he murmured. “Yes, adorably fluffy.” Another time he might have protested the use of that adjective. But now he was all too relieved. “Would you like me to pull my chair closer, so you may fondle my hair with greater ease?” he asked. She beamed at him. “Why, yes, I’d like exactly that.” DavidSherry ThomasHelenaTempting The Bride Book:Tempting the Bride Source: Tempting the Bride
“It was a few minutes before Helena could stop panting. She dared not read any further, or she’d crash through the connecting door and ravish Hastings—and she was far from sure how she felt about him. -- As she was reading the manuscript of The Bride of Larkspear” Sherry ThomasHelenaTempting The Bride Book:Tempting the Bride Source: Tempting the Bride
“Do you think I should be paying my addresses to Mrs. Martin, my dear Miss Fitzhugh?” he whispered. “Martin doesn’t look the sort to have enough stamina to service two women. And goodness knows you could probably exhaust Casanova himself.” Again this insinuation that she must be a sufferer of nymphomania. Behind her fan, she put her lips very close to his ear. “You’ve no idea, my Lord Hastings, the heated yearnings that singe me at night, when I cannot have a man. My skin burns to be touched, my lips kissed, and my entire body passionately fondled.” Hastings was mute, for once. He stared at her with something halfway between amusement and arousal. She snapped shut her fan and rapped his fingers as hard as she could, watching with great satisfaction as he choked back a yelp of pain. “By anyone but you,” she said, and turned on her heels.” Sherry ThomasHelenaHastingsBeguiling The Beauty Book:Beguiling the Beauty Source: Beguiling the Beauty
“Hastings sat down and braced his arm along the back of the chaise, quite effectively letting it be known he did not want anyone else to join them. “You look frustrated, Miss Fitzhugh.” He lowered his voice. “Has your bed been empty of late?” He knew very well she’d been watched more closely than prices on the stock exchange. She couldn’t smuggle a hamster into her bed, let alone a man. “You look anemic, Hastings,” she said. “Have you been leaving the belles of England breathlessly unsatisfied again?” He grinned. “Ah, so you know what it is like to be breathlessly unsatisfied. I expected as little from Andrew Martin.” Her tone was pointed. “As little as you expect from yourself, no doubt.” He sighed exaggeratedly. “Miss Fitzhugh, you disparage me so, when I’ve only ever sung your praises.” “Well, we all do what we must,” she said with sweet venom. He didn’t reply—not in words, at least.” Sherry ThomasHelenaHastingsRavishing The Heiress Book:Ravishing the Heiress Source: Ravishing the Heiress
