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Quote by Debasish Mridha

“Let us sing our songs of joy while we can sing; we never know when the end-bell will ring and the bird will fly away.”

Quote by Debasish Mridha

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Debasish Mridha

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“He hated it when women cried. At the first sign of tears, he had always bolted like a hare at a coursing. But as soon as his arms had gone around Kathleen, in one ordinary instant, the world, the past, everything he'd always been certain of had all been obliterated. She had reached for him, not out of passion or fear, but the simple human need for closeness. It had electrified him. No one had ever sought comfort from him before, and the act of giving it had felt more unspeakably intimate than the most torrent sexual encounter. He'd felt the force of his entire being wrap around her in a moment of sweet, raw connection.”

Kathleen RavenelKathleen And DevonDevon Ravenel
Book:Cold-Hearted Rake
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“Out of regard for me, if for no other reason, he shouldn't have taken the innocence of a young woman under my protection. It's a matter of respect." Kathleen hoisted herself more fully over him, staring down into his blue eyes. "This," she mocked gently, "from a man who seduced me in nearly every room, stairwell and hay-nook of Eversby Priory. Where was your regard for innocence then?" His frown disappeared. "That was different." "Why, may I ask?" Devon flipped her over, reversing their positions neatly and surprising a giggle from her. "Because," he said huskily, "I wanted you so much..." She writhed and laughed as he unfastened her nightgown. "... and as lord of the manor," he continued, proceeding to strip her naked, "I thought it was time to exercise my droit de seigneur." "As if I were some medieval peasant girl?" she asked, shoving him onto his back, and climbing over him. Grabbing his marauding hands, she tried to pin him down with her entire weight. A deep laugh escaped him. "Love, that won't work. You're no heavier than a butterfly." Clearly enjoying their play, he lay unresisting as she gripped his thick wrists more tightly. "A determined butterfly," he conceded. As he stared up at her, his smile faded, and his eyes darkened to intense blue. "I was a selfish bastard," he said softly. "I shouldn't have seduced you." "I was willing," Kathleen pointed out, inwardly surprised by his remorse. He was changing, she thought, rapidly gaining maturity as he shouldered the responsibilities that had been forced on him so unexpectedly. "I would do it differently now. Forgive me." He paused, frowning in self-reproach. "I wasn't raised to be honorable. It's damned difficult to learn." Kathleen slid her hands over his until their fingers interlaced. "There's nothing to forgive, or regret." Devon shook his head, not allowing her to absolve him. "Tell me how to atone." She bent to brush her lips against his. "Love me," she whispered. With great care, Devon rolled until she was caught beneath him. "Always," he said huskily, and possessed her mouth while his hands slid over her body.”

Kathleen RavenelKathleen And DevonDevon Ravenel
Book:Marrying Winterborne
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“Asad waited in one of the end stalls, watching alertly as Kathleen approached. His head lifted, his ears perking forward in recognition. He was a compact gelding with powerful hindquarters, an elegant conformation that afforded both speed and endurance. His coloring was a shade of chestnut so light it appeared golden, his mane and tail flaxen. "There's my boy," Kathleen exclaimed gently, reaching out to him with her palm upward. Asad sniffed at her hand and gave her a welcoming nicker. Lowering his finely modeled head, he moved to the front of the stall. She stroked his nose and forehead, and he reacted with pure gladness, blowing softly and nudging closer. "I shouldn't have waited so long to see you," she said, overcome with remorse. Clumsily she leaned to kiss the space between the horse's eyes. She felt him nibble delicately at the shoulder of her dress, trying to groom her. A crooked grin twisted her lips. Pushing his head away, she scratched his satiny neck in the way she knew he liked. "I shouldn't have left you alone, my poor boy." Her fingers tangled in the white-blond mane. She felt the weight of his head come to rest on her shoulder. The trusting gesture caused her throat to cinch around a quick breath.”

HorseArabianKathleen RavenelAsad
Book:Cold-Hearted Rake
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“I'm here at the earl's behest to talk to a set of clodhoppers about their turnip planting. As soon as that's concluded, I can promise you that I'll return to London with all possible haste." Clodhoppers? Kathleen drew in a sharp breath, thinking of the tenant families and the way they worked and persevered and endured the hardships of farming... all to put food on the table of men such as this, who looked down his nose at them. "The families who live here," she managed to say, "are worthy of your respect. Generations of tenant farmers built this estate- and precious little reward they've received in return. Go into their cottages, and see the conditions in which they live, and contrast it with your own circumstances. And then perhaps you might ask yourself if you're worthy of their respect." "Good God," West muttered, "my brother was right. You do have the temperance of a baited badger." They exchanged glances of mutual loathing and walked away from each other.”

West RavenelKathleen Ravenel
Book:Cold-Hearted Rake
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“Everyone on this estate is struggling to survive- and we're all depending on your brother, who's trying to solve problems that he had no hand in creating. But instead of doing something to help, you've chosen to drink yourself silly and totter around like a selfish lumping idiot-" Her throat worked around an angry sob, and she swallowed it down before continuing quietly. "Go back to London. You're of no use to anyone here. Blame me if you like. Tell Lord Trenear that I was too much of a bitch to tolerate. He'll have no difficulty accepting that." Turning, she walked away from him, throwing a few last words over her shoulder. "Perhaps someday you'll find someone who can save you from excesses. Personally, I don't believe you're worth the effort.”

Kathleen Ravenel
Book:Cold-Hearted Rake
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