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Quote by Elizabeth Hoyt

“Why then was he taking her? Was it merely for his own amusement- or was it for some other, more sinister reason? After all, only two days before she'd seen him kill a footman in cold blood. Of course Cal had tried to kill the duke in a particularly awful and vicious way. But then afterward the duke had kissed her as she'd never been kissed in all her life. His tongue had tasted of wine and sin and she'd wanted to moan and rub herself against him as he'd tilted her back over his arm.”

Quote by Elizabeth Hoyt

Book:Duke of Sin
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Duke of Sin

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Elizabeth Hoyt
Elizabeth Hoyt

Elizabeth Hoyt, born in 1970, is a renowned American romance novel author. Her works are known for their delicate emotional descriptions and captivating storylines, which have won her a large following among readers. more

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“Val set Séraphine before the roaring fire, but kept his hands on her because he'd learned his lesson well... and also because he liked his hands on her. She glanced at the steaming bath and suppressed another shiver. "I should leave if you're about to take a bath." "Why?" he asked as he slipped his sadly ruined purple velvet coat from her shoulders. It had cost more than she'd probably make in a lifetime and now stank of bacon and horses, thanks to her. He threw the sodden thing in the corner. "You'll want your privacy," she replied nonsensically. He looked into her dark eyes, amused, as he unhooked her chatelaine and laid it on a table. "When have I ever wanted privacy?”

Val Napier
Book:Duke of Sin
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“He started for the door, thinking of crimson velvet and burning eyes- and a woman's face swam into view. Ah. A quarry. A victim of his plots and of his villainy. He diverted his course, intercepting the woman. She was on the arm of an older man, her father. Val swept her an abrupt bow. "Miss Royle. Sir." Hippolyta Royle was the only daughter of Sir George Royle, who had gone to the East Indies to make his fortune and had done quite a good job indeed. The result was that Miss Royle had a dowry with few rivals in England. "Your Grace." The lady's face, oval and proud and naturally olive-complexioned, paled at the sight of him. Actually, he was rather used to that sort of reaction to his sudden appearance. Blackmailer, and all. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, peering over her knuckles. Her fingers were trembling. "Might I have the pleasure of this next dance, Miss Royle?" Oh, she wanted to deny him, he could tell. Her full berry-red lips were pressed together, her dark brows gathered. The lady did not look entirely happy. A state of affairs that didn't escape her father. "My dear?" She patted the elderly man's hand. "It's nothing, Papa. It's just so hot in here." "Then perhaps if we venture close to the windows-" "Oh, but I insist on a turn on the floor," Val purred, his pulse racing, his nostrils flared. If she darted for cover he'd spring and sink his teeth into her. She was prey- his prey, and he'd not let her go. She was a prize and he'd parade her before all.”

VictimVal NapierPredator And PreyHippolyta Royle
Book:Duke of Sin
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“You are a brave woman." Miss Royle shook her head. "And he is truly a wicked man." "Yes, he is," Bridget replied. Unfortunately, Val's wickedness no longer seemed to be a deterrent to her. Probably that should concern her. She made her farewells and departed the carriage as circumspectly as she'd entered it, but as she made her way back to Hermes House, Pip by her side, she finally acknowledged it to herself. Wicked or not, vain or not, outrageous or not, she was falling in love with the Duke of Montgomery.”

Falling In LoveVal NapierBridget Crumb
Book:Duke of Sin
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“But worse- much, much worse- she'd run away herself. That was unpardonable, unforgivable, unjustifiable. Hit him, shame him, spit at him- anything but turn her back on him. She couldn't simply quit their game. That, that was not allowed. And when he'd realized that she was out there on the stormy night moor, alone save an aristocratic lady and a goddamned bloody pony... He growled beneath his breath. She stilled against him, like a rabbit under a hound's jaws, her heart beating rapidly, and he was glad. She ought to be afraid of him. He was a very bad man and she was completely under his power. He could do anything to her. Anything at all, really. Time she learned that.”

ProvokedVal NapierBridget Crumb
Book:Duke of Sin
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“She was just ordinary. From her horse's-mane hair to her sturdy, practical feet, she'd never turned men's heads. Oh, she wasn't ill-favored- her features were regular enough- but she knew, too, that she wasn't the sort of woman whom men flirted with. Whom men stared at. She'd had a few admirers in the past, but they hadn't been a multitude. She was unremarkable. The Duke of Montgomery was anything but. Perhaps, then, that was what drew him to her- her very normality. Val was just quixotic enough to become fascinated- for a short time- by the prosaic. That was quite a depressing thought, but Bridget faced it practically. She knew that whatever else happened they were not meant to be together for any length of time.”

OrdinarinessVal NapierBridget Crumb
Book:Duke of Sin
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“Around back of the stables she saw a group of boys, surrounding something on the ground. As she gasped, a boy- a great big fellow, nearly as big as a man- drew back his leg and kicked. The thing on the ground yelped. "No!" Bridget shouted, but she was drowned out by a gunshot. She turned to see the Duke of Montgomery, standing in his shirt-sleeves and pink embroidered waistcoat and breeches, hip cocked, a smoking pistol held almost negligently aloft in his left hand. He smiled, as sweetly as an adder baring its fangs, at the boys. "Won't you please vacate this area?" The boys seemed frozen by surprise- or stark fear. The duke tilted his head and his smile dropped from his face, leaving it blank- and somehow much more frightening. "Now.”

Val NapierRescuing
Book:Duke of Sin
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“His face might've been carved by a Greek sculptor, so perfect were his cheekbones, lips, and nose. His eyes were of the clearest azure. His curling hair was the color of polished guineas and quite gorgeous- which the duke obviously knew, since he wore it long, unpowdered, and tied at the nape of his neck with an enormous black bow. He wore an elegant purple velvet coat over a cloth-of-gold waistcoat embroidered in black and crimson. Fountains of lace fell from wrists and throat as he lounged in a winged armchair, one long leg thrust forward. Diamonds on the buckles of his shoes glinted in the candlelight. His Grace was urbane male sophistication personified- but anyone who therefore dismissed him as harmless was a rank fool. The Duke of Montgomery was as deadly as a coiled adder discovered suddenly at one's feet.”

Masculine BeautyVal NapierDuke
Book:Duke of Sin
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