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“And each and every compliment issued by the duke had been just singular enough to kindle her imagination. Calculated to intrigue, to imply that he saw her in detail, that touching her was a pleasure. 'Unconscionably,' he'd said. As though being soft was something she did specifically to torment him. It had almost been an accusation, a dare. She'd received more than her share of compliments her life. But for some reason the duke made her feel very much like a... Like a 'woman.' Purely and simply. It had nothing to do with love. Or with marriage. He was thinking of her in terms of... of sensual pleasure.” — Julie Anne Long
And each and every compliment issued by the duke had been just singular enough to kindle her imagination. Calculated to intrigue, to imply that he saw her in detail, that touching her was a pleasure.
'Unconscionably,' he'd said. As though being soft was something she did specifically to torment him. It had almost been an accusation, a dare. She'd received more than her share of compliments her life. But for some reason the duke made her feel very much like a...
Like a 'woman.'
Purely and simply.
It had nothing to do with love. Or with marriage. He was thinking of her in terms of... of sensual pleasure.