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Quote by Julie Anne Long

“Ah, now," he soothed in his low, easy voice, the way he would a spooked horse or a woman whose bodice he was about to slip lower. It worked a treat. Her pupils dilated in sudden interest, for it was 'that' kind of voice and she was a woman after all. She'd decided he was attractive and pleasant and she visibly softened. When he bothered to use that tone on women they generally did.”

Quote by Julie Anne Long

Book:What I Did for a Duke
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What I Did for a Duke

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Julie Anne Long

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“What are you about, Moncrieffe?" Eversea did look decidedly ill. "What am I about...? Well, I'm 'about' to enjoy, or at least drink, a cup of ratafia. Or brandy if I can get it. I'm about to join your father for a brief discussion of an investment opportunity in his study. I'm about to divest your neighbors and guests of their money in five-card loo. But that's later. More importantly, I'm about to dance with your sister." It was the smile Moncrieffe offered here, and the way he said "sister," that had Ian reaching, in a reflex almost as old as time, for a sword he wasn't wearing. He forced his hand to ease. For Moncrieffe had seen it; he casually placed his own hand inside his coat. A pistol was never far from his person.”

ThreateningBrotherly LoveAlexander MoncrieffeIan Eversea
Book:What I Did for a Duke
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“He grinned because he'd made her say something ridiculous. The grin was wicked, white and tilted. She panicked, because she thought of sun-shot ponds and sunlight coming down through trees when she looked in his eyes now, and judging from the temperature of her cheeks he was a devil sent up from Hades, not a bloody poem. She might be turning any number of colors, from scarlet to parchment to all those shades of rose in-between, but he regarded her evenly. He was older, bolder. He knew of whores and wars, violence and vendettas. He knew precisely what he wanted, always. He wanted her.”

DevilishAlexander MoncrieffeGenevieve And Alexander
Book:What I Did for a Duke
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“You'll kiss me again." His low-voiced, arrogant confidence made her wish she had something clutched in her hand to throw at him. "The advantage of being a member of 'our' species, Miss Eversea..." very deliberate, that, and he waited for her face to go thunderous "... is one that does whatever one wants because they want to and because they 'like' it. And you both 'want' to and you 'liked' it. Not every woman does. Ponder that." She glared at him. "But liking it has more than little to do with 'who' you're kissing. And when you kiss me again it will have naught to do with 'wisdom.' It will be because you will be unable to think of anything 'else' until you do.”

Alexander MoncrieffeGenevieve And AlexanderSeducer
Book:What I Did for a Duke
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“The duke was sitting silently in the corner, long legs casually outstretched, arms loosely crossed over him, surveying the room with ironic eyes. They lingered on her; he gave her the faintest of smiles. It was almost impossible to believe that this was the man who had said to her 'I want you naked beneath me.' Apart from the rush of blood to various places in her body when she thought it, she could almost imagine it hadn't happened at all.”

Alexander Moncrieffe
Book:What I Did for a Duke
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“Turn. I want to look at you," he ordered. "Why?" "Because you are beautiful and I want you." Dear God. He spoke like he moved: quick, purposeful. His delivery made everything sound true and right and... 'sensible.' Which was dangerous indeed, as the last thing this was meant to be was sensible. He'd undressed with startling alacrity while she was facing her door, and she hardly knew where to look first. She knew he meant it, because she could see in his fierce eyes and the swift rise and fall of his shoulders, and his hard cock, thick and large and curving up toward his belly, how much he wanted her. And he stared, drinking her in, and dear God, her knees went weaker still at the look in his eyes. She wanted to tell him, too, that he was beautiful, but it wasn't quite the right word. It seemed inadequate and perhaps not exactly true. He was overwhelmingly new to her, alien, and astoundingly... 'male'... his skin very fair, his body spare, all hard, lean muscle, his chest furred with dark hair, a trail of it following the seam of his ribs where his cock curved upward against his belly up from its nest of curling hair. His small, hard buttocks were almost comically white and muscular. She saw a few scars scattered over him. He saved her from the onslaught of sensations and impressions and from having to make a statement when he pulled her against his bare body. The feeling of his skin against hers, her hard nipples brushing his, was extraordinary; his skin was hot; he smelled wonderful and strange, of smoke and musk and something she was sure was uniquely his. He didn't want coy. She'd claimed she wasn't. And yet it was counter to her nature to let momentum take her, to surrender. She struggled with it, and he felt the tension in her body. "It's all right," he murmured into her ear, his breath, his voice, erotic, so persuasive, the voice of ultimate safety and ultimate danger. "I have you. 'Shhh,' now, Genevieve.”

Alexander MoncrieffeGenevieve And Alexander
Book:What I Did for a Duke
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