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Quote by Richard King

“The very fact that 'the mystical' is seen as irrelevant to issues of social and political authority itself reflects contemporary, secularized notions of and attitudes toward power. The separation of the mystical from the political is itself a political decision!”

Quote by Richard King

Book:Orientalism and Religion: Postcolonial Theory, India and 'The Mystic East'

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Orientalism and Religion: Postcolonial Theory, India and 'The Mystic East'

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“He eyed her hungrily. "Now, eat your cake or whatever it is and try to be a good girl." "It's German apple puff, for your information. Have you tried it? It's delicious. Here." She leaned slowly across the table and fed him a bite from her spoon. He helped himself to a leisurely look at her décolletage as he opened his mouth and accepted. "Mm. That is good." "Told you so." Her eyes twinkled as she leaned back in her chair in leisurely contentment. "I thought you said a while ago you had no room left for the sweets." "I'm pacing myself. Besides---" She took another dainty nibble off her dessert spoon. "There were no corsets in the trunk of goodies your servants brought me, so, you see, I'm wonderfully free to make a glutton of myself." This little fact arrested his full attention. His stare homed in on her figure--- what he could see of it over the table. "You mean...?" "Indeed, Your Grace. Tonight, I go au naturel." She laughed like she enjoyed teasing him and took another remorseless bite of German apple puff. Rohan watched her with strange sensations of delight. God, she was a maddening woman. An unpredictable blend of innocence and passion. Intelligent, mercurial. Her prickly side amused him, but he liked her even better like this, open and relaxed. Uncorseted. In her scintillating humor, she threw off light like the candle glow as it played over the cut-crystal facets of their wine goblets. In short, she enchanted him. Maybe she had inherited some of her ancestor Valerian's magic. Rohan had a feeling he was doomed. He could sense a most unforeseen bond growing between them and did not know what to make of it. "Staring again, Your Grace?" "I've just decided you are rather naughty. And I like it." She shrugged. "You said we were celebrating. Anyway, it's your fault. If you wanted me to behave, you shouldn't have made me try so many wines." "Why on earth would I want that?" he asked softly. "Hm." She caught a bead of condensation running down the shaft of her narrow champagne flute on her fingertip and brought it to her lips. Damn, but just watching her got him hard.”

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