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Quote by Lisa Kleypas

“You taste so sweet." The whispered words sent a shiver down her spine. Somehow, whenever she had imagined this intimacy with a man, she had thought of darkness and urgency and groping. She had not expected firelight and heat and this patient courting of her body. Jack's lips wandered in a velvet path from her throat to the sensitive opening of her ear, played lightly, and then Amanda jerked in surprise as she felt the tip of his tongue stroke along a tiny inner crevice. "Jack," she whispered. "You don't have to play the lover for me. Truly... you are kind to pretend that I'm desirable, and you-" She felt him smile against her ear. "You are an innocent, mhuirnin, if you think that a man's body reacts this way out of kindness.”

Quote by Lisa Kleypas

Work

Suddenly You

Suddenly You is a compelling narrative that delves into the complexities of human emotions. The protagonist's unexpected transformation sets the stage for a narrative rich with introspection and the exploration of relationships. The novel's engaging prose and vivid character development make it a captivating read for those interested in the intricacies of personal transformation and the enduring power of love. more

Author

Lisa Kleypas
Lisa Kleypas

Lisa Kleypas, born in 1964, is a renowned American romance novel author. Her works are known for their delicate emotional descriptions and captivating storylines, which have won the hearts of numerous readers. more

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“For the first time, she enjoyed the freedom of being a thirty-year-old spinster. This was a distinctly compromising situation that no schoolroom virgin would ever have been allowed to witness. However, she could do as she liked by sheer virtue of her age. "I took care of my father during the last two years of his life," she said in response to Devlin's comment. "He was an invalid, and required assistance with his clothes. I served as valet, cook, and nurse for him, especially toward the end." Devlin's face seemed to change, his annoyance vanishing. "What a capable woman you are," he said softly, with no trace of irony.”

“A poor man needs the escape far more than a wealthy man does." "Escape," Amanda repeated, having never heard a book described in such a way. "Yes, something to transport your mind from where and who and what you are. Everyone needs that. A time or two in my past, it seemed that a book was the only thing that stood between me and near insanity. I-" He stopped suddenly, and Amanda realized that he had not meant to make such a confession. The room became uncomfortably quiet, with only the jaunty snap of the fire to intrude on the silence. Amanda felt as if the air were throbbing with some unexpressed emotion. She wanted to tell him that she understood exactly what he meant, that she, too, had experienced the utter deliverance that words on a page could provide. There had been times of desolation in her own life, and books had been her only pleasure.”

“He moved a little, as if intending to push away from her, and she reached out impulsively, her short arms catching his broad shoulders. She embraced him protectively, although it might seem ridiculous to shelter such a physically powerful creature. Devlin stiffened. To her surprise, and perhaps his, he gradually accepted her hold, hunching over to accommodate her short stature. His black head lowered almost to her shoulder. Amanda put her hand on his nape of his neck, where the warm edge of skin met the crisp edge of his collar. "Jack..." She meant to sound sympathetic, but somehow her voice came out as briskly pragmatic as ever. "What you did was neither illegal nor immoral, and there is certainly no point in wasting your time with regrets. You needn't berate yourself for something you can't change. And as you say, you had no choice. If you wish for revenge against your father and siblings for their treatment of you, I suggest that you apply yourself to being happy." He gave a brief huff of laughter against her ear. "My practical princess," he muttered, his arms tightening around her.”

“I shouldn't like to monopolize your time- surely you should be receiving your guests." Devlin took her to a corner of the drawing room, taking a glass of wine from the tray of a passing servant. He gave the glass to Amanda and lowered his head to murmur in her ear. "There's only one guest who matters to me." Amanda felt a prickling blush rise in her cheeks. She felt as if she were in a dream. This couldn't be happening to Amanda Briars, the spinster from Windsor... the sweet music, the lovely surroundings, the handsome man whispering seductive nonsense in her ear.”

“Waiting requires patience. There are three words in that sentence that nobody likes. Patience is not passivity. To be patient doesn’t mean you get to be idle and wait for something to change. I don’t get to “let go and let God.” I can’t “easy button” this to God. As if I actually could. I must stay in the tension.”

“Did you like my novel?" she couldn't resist asking. "Yes, I did. At first I thought it would be typical silver-fork fare. But I liked the way your well-bred characters began to unravel. I liked the portrayal of decent people moved to deception, violence, betrayal... you don't seem to shrink from anything in your writing." "Critics say my work is lacking in decency." "That's because your underlying theme- that ordinary people are capable of extraordinary things in their private lives- makes them uncomfortable.”

“Why aren't you married?" "Why aren't you?" she parried. "I like my independence too well to relinquish any part of it." "That's my reason, too," she said. "Besides, anyone acquainted with me will confirm that I'm uncompromising and obstinate." He smiled lazily. "You just require the proper handling." "Handling," she repeated tartly. "Perhaps you'd care to explain what you mean." "I mean that a man who knows anything about women could have you purring like a kitten." Annoyance and laughter billowed together in her chest... what a rogue he was! But she would not be deceived by his facade. Although his manner was playful, there was something underneath- a quality of patient watchfulness, a sense of restrained power- that made her nerves thrill in warning. He was no callow boy, but a fully mature man. And although she was not a worldly woman, she knew from the way he looked at her that he wanted something from her, whether it was her submission, her sexual favors, or simply her money.”