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Quote by J.D. Ruskin

“Phrases and images from the game filtered through his head... hitting the sweet spot, working the rosin bag, over the bat, going deep, in the hole, double header, baseball was a filthy, dirty sport!”

Quote by J.D. Ruskin

Book:When One Door Opens
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When One Door Opens

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J.D. Ruskin

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“Oh, thank you! Thank you," she chirped, surprising him by bounding across the room and clasping him tight for a quick hug. His arms hung heavy and loose at his sides during her gentle siege. Rothbury had enchanted exotic opera singers into returning to his bed time and again. He had warmed coldhearted courtesans into confessing their undying love and he had seduced a number of beautiful, feisty women who were just as fickle in picking their lovers as he was. But Charlotte's hug unsettled him, knocked him off balance, one might say. He didn't want her to let go. But he wouldn't dare bring up his arms to hold her either. Without a doubt he knew if he indulged himself, all he felt, all he thought, would be exposed in the warmth of his embrace. And then there would be no turning back. He would be bared, revealed, humiliated.”

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“Rothbury inhaled the familiar lemon-tinged air wafting before him. He remained silent, ignoring the zing of awareness thrumming through him, and listened for the sound of footfalls instead. Whoever had entered the room, it was definitely a young woman. He'd bet one of his prized Arabians on it, but it wasn't Cordelia. She smelled perpetually of pungent roses, which he had been partial to in the beginning of their short love affair, but which now merely reminded him that the woman connected to it was just as clingy and thorny as the flower itself. But this scent- he inhaled deeply as it now surrounded him- inspired contentment, which was a miracle in itself, considering all he wanted to do presently was break free, find Lady Gilton, and throttle her elegant neck. "Who's there?" Rothbury demanded, his tone firm but quiet. He pulled at the twisted silk binds holding his wrists together behind him, noting they were finally starting to tear. "Come now," he said in a tone he used on skittish horses. "Tell me who's there.”

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“Even in the dim light emanating from the few illuminated windows of the mansions, Charlotte could see that this man's body was athletic and pleasing to the feminine eye. This was no young, besotted whelp declaring his undying love. This was a man. A clearly stubborn one, but a man just the same. Long and lean muscled, a trim waist and narrow hips, and strong legs encased in black breeches that he must have inched his way into. Inexpressibles. Charlotte almost sighed.”

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“Men and women cannot be friends. It is impossible." Her brow furrowed. "And why not?" He bit back a smile. Lord, she was an easy one to fool. If he had a mind to fool her, that is. She was so gullible; he had no idea how she made it through life so far without being compromised, fleeced, or coerced into buying a three-legged horse at least a half a dozen times. He cleared his throat to keep a cynical grin from creeping in. "Because, my sweet, sweet naive creature, lust would, undoubtedly, get in the way. You've heard of lust, correct?" Pressing her lips together, she nodded. "Of course." "Damn. I should have liked to explain it to you in excruciating detail. Showing you examples, of course." "Lust is a sin." "Yes, indeed it is. My favorite one.”

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