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Seduced by His Touch

Book by Tracy Anne Warren · 15 quotes · Grace And Jack, Jack Byron, Pendant Necklace

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Seduced by His Touch Quotes

“The garden shimmered with candlelight from dozens of sweetly scented beeswax tapers set around to illuminate the space. In the center stood her painting table, now neatly draped in a crisp, white linen tablecloth and laid with her best china, crystal and silver. More lighted candles were arranged on the table, a small vase of flowers set in the middle, tender petals of red, pink and ivory adding a pleasing burst of color. More color glowed in the sky, sunset turning the horizon a glorious golden apricot.”

RomanticSunsetFlowersCandlelightColors Of The SunsetGarden DinnerGrace Byron
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“Stepping back, he went to his bedside table. He returned carrying something. Opening his palm, he revealed the heart-shaped pendant he'd given her so many months ago. "I've kept this," he explained. "You might say it's become a talisman of sorts. I... I carry it everywhere. But I'm going to give it to you again, if you'll take it. Whether you decide ever to wear it or not is up to you." "Jack," she murmured, as she let him press the jewelry into her hand.”

True LoveGrace And JackKeepsakePendant Necklace
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“Nestled into a bed of shiny cream satin lay a heart-shaped pendant on a simple gold chain. The heart itself was created from over a dozen delicate round amethyst stones, while the center held a miniature painted on porcelain. Done in a series of fine, delicate strokes, the artist's rendering depicted a tiny garden, alive with masses of yellow and white hollyhocks. Right away, they reminded her of the flowers she'd been drawing that long-ago day in Bath. The day of her and Jack's very first kiss. Her gaze went to his, breath stilled in her chest. "Oh, Jack. It's Sydney Gardens, isn't it?" "That's right, with those stalky, puff-headed flowers." He gave her a gentle smile. "Do you like it?" "I love it." "I chose amethyst, since you said it's your favorite stone. I hope I remembered right?" "You did. It's so lovely. Thank you. I'll wear it each and every day," she promised. "Your heart tucked against my own." A peculiar shadow flickered momentarily across his eyes before he reached for the necklace. "Here, let me help you put it on." "Yes. Please," she said, relieved he'd offered. Her hands were trembling with so much emotion that she doubted she could have managed the task on her own. Turning slightly, she angled herself so he could place the chain around her neck and fasten the clasp. The slight weight of the gold and stones grew instantly warm against her skin. "There. How does it look?" she asked as she moved to face him again. "Beautiful," he said. But when she glanced up, she realized he wasn't looking at the pendant. Instead, he was looking at her.”

AmethystGrace And JackPendant NecklaceGift Of HeartHollyhocks
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“Lowering his arm again, he gazed at her through the darkness and caught the subtle shimmer of her red hair, visible even in the low light. Reaching out, he gathered up a waist-length strand and rubbed the silky ends between his fingers in a slow, measuring glide. Without giving himself time to think, he raised the tress to his nose and inhaled, closing his eyes as Grace's sweet rose-and-honey scent flooded his senses.”

Red HairGrace And Jack
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“That's when she saw his gaze drift downward, alighting on the heart-shaped pendant clasped around her neck. "You're wearing it," he said, his words carrying a wondering tone. Reaching up, she fingered the amethysts, then smoothed her thumb over the flat piece of porcelain in the center with its tiny painted garden. "Yes. Because I realize now that it was given in love." "It was, even if I was too blind to know it at the time. Something else for which I must beg your forgiveness." "It's yours." She laid her palm on his chest near his heart. "Did you really carry the pendant around with you when we were apart?" "Constantly. It made me feel closer to you. Strange, I suppose, considering you wore it for such a brief time." "Not so strange," she reassured. "I kept a handkerchief of yours, though I never planned to tell you that." Leaning near, he pressed his lips to hers. "Besotted. The pair of us." "Definitely.”

KeepsakesGrace And JackBesottedPendant Necklace
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“And then there was the expansive garden that ran the length of the rear of the house- lush with color and fragrances that seemed to burst from every branch and bloom. Whoever had designed it possessed a keen eye for beauty, each plant chosen with obvious care and an affinity for nature. She'd even acquired a new cat from its depths, a stray orange tom she found wandering among the hydrangea bushes one morning. An offered dish of milk and he'd been her bosom beau ever since. She'd decided to call him Ranunculus because Buttercup was far too feminine a name for such a large and impressive male. She gazed at him now where he slept in the sunshine, basking like a small potentate in the heat of the day.”

GardenCatFlowersRanunculusGrace Byron
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“He supposed there were worse things than marriage, although right now he couldn't seem to think of any. 'Cade looks happy enough,' Jack reasoned, as his attention returned to the ceremony. 'Why wouldn't he though, when he is marrying an angel?' His brother's bride, Meg, certainly looked the part, dressed all in white, with her blond hair swept upward in soft waves beneath her lace veil, her lake blue eyes aglow with unconcealed joy. Her love for Cade was clear, as was her gentle sweetness and caring ways. 'Cade is a fortunate man,' he thought. 'I should be half so lucky.”

Wedding CeremonyJack ByronMeg AmberleyMeg And Cade
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“With most women he would use flattery and flirtation, appealing to both their vanity and their pleasure. But Grace was no ordinary woman. With her, he knew he would have to take a more subtle approach. Less than half a minute into their acquaintance, he'd sensed her reserve, as well as her insecurity. He surmised she wasn't used to being boldly pursued by men, so any sudden, overt interest on his part would only provoke her suspicions and put her on the alert. Instead, his approach would require a deft touch and gentle, patient persuasion. A shy doe required proper coaxing, after all. The key was to figure out what kind of inducement she liked best and be there to offer it.”

CharmGrace And JackJack ByronRakishPursuer
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“You may not be beautiful in the traditional sense, but that doesn't mean you aren't lovely all the same. Uniquely lovely, with an inner radiance that far transcends what passes for pretty these days. Take your eyes, for example." "My eyes?" "Hmmm. Have you ever noticed how they change color with your moods?" She shook her head. "Well, they do. When you're happy, they're a pure pristine blue, like twin brushstrokes of sky. And when you're displeased or lost in serious thought, they shift to grey. Silvery, sensual grey, the sort that ripples like dawn mist over a lake. I can think of no other woman with eyes like yours. Magnificent, soul-deep eyes in which a man could drown if he weren't careful.”

Eye ColorGrace And Jack
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“Of all her rather unremarkable features, her eyes were her strong point, despite being partially hidden behind a pair of spectacles. A gentle blue-grey, their color shifted in the most interesting manner from gentian to pewter depending upon the light. He supposed most people never noticed such subtle variations, thinking her irises to be either plain grey or ordinary blue, but he'd found himself intrigued; more so than he might have expected after such a brief encounter.”

Eye ColorGrace And JackGrace Danvers
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“Ranunculus chose that moment to saunter inside, the big orange cat going straight across to Jack to rub against his trouser legs. Clearly unconcerned about any hair the feline might be leaving behind, Jack bent to stroke the cat's striped head and back. "I see the two of you have already met," she remarked, observing the friendly byplay. Soft purrs issued from the cat, his eyes closing with contentment as Jack scratched him under his chin. "Indeed," Jack said. "This big fellow introduced himself to me while you were sleeping. He's quite expert at hogging the sofa." His gaze moved to the cat. "Aren't you... Ranunculus, is it not?" "That's right," she confirmed. Obviously Jack had gleaned additional "interesting details" from the servants. He stroked the cat's head, his voice lowering. "At least she didn't call you Buttercup, old man." "You know what ranunculus means?" she said, surprised. His gaze swung up to meet hers. "I know a great deal more on that subject than you might imagine. Let's just say you... inspired me to learn.”

CatGenus SpeciesGrace And JackRanunculus
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“Yours, I presume?" he said in a rich, deeply modulated voice that put her in mind of hot buttered rum on a cold winter day and the sensual luxury of lying amid warm silken sheets. Inwardly, she quivered. Her reply, whatever it might be, stuck like a stone in her throat; the incapacity only worsened when she lifted her gaze to his. Bold and intelligent, his eyes shone like a set of imperial jewels, their shade an improbably pure blue that lay somewhere between sapphire and lapis lazuli. He was sinfully handsome, with a refined jaw, a long, straight nose and a mouth that seemed the very embodiment of temptation. His mahogany-dark hair was cut short, the severe style unable to tame the rebellious wave that lent the ends just the faintest hint of curl. But most enticing of all was his height- his large, muscular, impressive height. She guessed he must be six feet three or four at least, his build broad and powerful enough to make even her feel small.”

Grace And JackJack Byron
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“She watched him with brazen interest, reclining against the pillows as he revealed inch by delicious inch of hard masculine flesh. The sight of him made her giddy. He was better than any Grecian sculpture she'd ever seen- long and tall where he should be, broad across the shoulders, but equally narrow at the hips. Muscles flexed beneath his superb physique, powerful bone and sinew covered by taut, supple skin. A dusting of short dark hair grew on his powerful legs and across his elegant forearms. His chest was covered by a heavier thatch of nearly black hair. A line of it tapered downward across his flat stomach, then all but disappeared, before flaring out again around his groin. It was this last part of him that fixed her attention most completely. From the instant he stripped of his pantaloons and drawers, she couldn't look away. Without conscious awareness, she riveted her gaze on his swollen shaft, taking note of its rampant length and girth.”

Jack Byron
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