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Quote by Lisa Kleypas

“But everyone likes dogs," Cassandra protested. "I don't dislike dogs. I just don't want one in my house." "Our house." She braced her elbows on the table and massaged her temples. "I've always had dogs. Pandora and I couldn't have survived our childhood without Napoleon and Josephine. If cleanliness is what worries you, I'll make certain the dog is bathed often, and accidents will be disposed of right away." That drew a grimace from him. "I don't want there to be accidents in the first place. Besides, you'll have more than enough to keep you busy- you won't have time for a pet." "I need a dog." Tom held the propelling pencil between his first and second fingers, and flipped it back and forth to make the ends tap on the table. "Let's look at this logically- you don't really need a dog. You're not a shepherd or a rat catcher. Household dogs serve no useful purpose." "They fetch things," Cassandra pointed out. "You'll have an entire staff of servants to fetch anything you want." "I want a companion who'll go on walks with me, and sit on my lap while I pet him." "You'll have me for that." Cassandra pointed to the contract. "Dog," she insisted. "I'm afraid it's nonnegotiable.”

Quote by Lisa Kleypas

Book:Chasing Cassandra
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Chasing Cassandra

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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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“An incredulous scowl crossed his face as he saw a gathering of dockworkers, porters, and cabmen near his wife. A navvy called out to her- "Gi' me a smile, ye sweet tidbit! One little smile! What's yer name?" Cassandra tried to ignore the catcalls, while the coast guard stood by, doing nothing to shield her. "Now, now, Mr. Severin-" the old harbormaster said, following as Tom headed toward Cassandra with swift, ground-eating strides. Tom reached his wife, blocked her from view, and sent a chilling glance at the navvy. "My wife doesn't feel like smiling. Is there something you'd like to say to me?" The catcalls faded, and the navvy met his gaze, taking his measure... deciding to back down. "Only that you're the luckiest bastard alive," the navvy said cheekily. The crowd broke up with a mixture of chuckles and guffaws. "On your way now, lads," the harbormaster said, briskly dispersing the gathering. "Time to go about your business." As Tom turned to Cassandra, he was relieved to see that she didn't seem upset. "Are you all right?" he asked. She nodded immediately. "No harm done." The officer looked sheepish. "I thought they would tire of their sport if we ignored them long enough." "Ignoring doesn't work," Tom said curtly. "It's the same as permission. Next time, pick the ringleader and go for him." "He was twice my size," the officer protested. Tom shot him an exasperated glance. "The world expects a man to have a backbone. Especially when a woman is being harassed.”

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“Tom said, looking at Cassandra, “I live at Hyde Park Square. We could live in that one if you like it. But it would be an easy matter to move to one of the others, if you would prefer.” Cassandra blinked in confusion. “You have more than one house?” “Four,” Tom replied in a matter-of-fact tone. Seeing her expression, he appeared to realize how odd she found it, and continued more cautiously, “I also have a few undeveloped residential lots in Kensington and Hammersmith, and recently I acquired an estate in Edmonton. But it would be impractical to live that far from my offices. So … I thought I might turn that one into a town.” “You’re going to start a town?” Kathleen asked blankly. “For the love of God,” West said, “don’t name it after yourself.”

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“A Litany for Survival For those of us who live at the shoreline standing upon the constant edges of decision crucial and alone for those of us who cannot indulge the passing dreams of choice who love in doorways coming and going in the hours between dawns looking inward and outward at once before and after seeking a now that can breed futures like bread in our children's mouths so their dreams will not reflect the death of ours: For those of us who were imprinted with fear like a faint line in the center of our foreheads learning to be afraid with our mother's milk for by this weapon this illusion of some safety to be found the heavy-footed hoped to silence us For all of us this instant and this triumph We were never meant to survive. And when the sun rises we are afraid it might not remain when the sun sets we are afraid it might not rise in the morning when our stomachs are full we are afraid of indigestion when our stomachs are empty we are afraid we may never eat again when we are loved we are afraid love will vanish when we are alone we are afraid love will never return and when we speak we are afraid our words will not be heard nor welcomed but when we are silent we are still afraid So it is better to speak remembering we were never meant to survive.”

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“Tom stopped in his tracks as he saw Cassandra approaching from the opposite end of the hallway. She was unspeakably pretty in a pink velvet dress with pulled-back skirts that followed the shape of her waist and hips. The front hem kicked up in a froth of of white silk ruffles with every footstep. His mouth went dry with excitement. His heart writhed and struggled like some live thing he'd just trapped inside a dresser drawer.”

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“Three hours later, Cassandra limped into the quiet, empty conservatory. Soft ripples of light reflected from the indoor stream and jostled against shadows cast by ferns and palm fronds. It looked like the room of some underwater palace. Painfully she made her way to the steps of a small stone bridge and sat in a billow of blue silk organza skirts. Tiny crystal beads had been scattered among the multiple layers of delicate fabric, casting glints across the floor.”

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“But Cassandra was even more breathtaking than he remembered. Her golden sunstruck beauty illuminated the sterile environment of the clinic. She was wonderfully dressed in a green velvet walking dress and a matching hooded cloak trimmed with white fur. Her hair, so shiny it looked molten, had been pinned up in a complex mass of coils and topped with a flirtatious little excuse for a hat. He felt her presence like a shock, every nerve tingling.”

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