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Quote by Lisa Kleypas

“Mr. Crawen," Tabitha said casually, "we brung a new girl for ye to try out. She's been waiting to give ye a little knock." Eyebrows were raised and a few glances exchanged across the table, for the prostitutes usually knew better than to intrude on a game. Derek gave Tabitha a quizzical frown. "Tell her I don't tumble the house wenches." He turned away dismissively. Tabitha persisted with glee. "But she's a nice, fresh one. Why don't you take a look?" Giggling, the wenches brought Sara forth. She was flushing and protesting, trying to remove the spangled tuft of of plumes they had tucked behind her ear. Derek laughed suddenly, his expression lightening. He pulled Sara into the crook of his arm. "This one I'll take," he murmured, bending to kiss her temple.”

Quote by Lisa Kleypas

Book:Dreaming of You
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Dreaming of You

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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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“Suddenly she was aware of an icy tingling on her neck, and every hair on her body stood erect. She turned around slowly. Derek was standing behind her, looking far from deserving of anyone's sympathy. He stared at her like a jaded sultan surveying his latest female acquisition. His dark handsomeness was matched only by his extraordinary self-possession. "Where is your fiancé?" he asked in a distinctly unfriendly tone. Sara was unnerved by his threatening stillness. "I don't have a... That is, h-he... We're not going to marry." "He didn't propose?" "No... well, yes, but..." Sara stepped back instinctively. Derek moved to close the distance between them. As they talked, she continued to edge away, and he followed like a stalking cat. "Mr. Kingswood proposed a few nights after my return," Sara said breathlessly. "I accepted. I was very happy at first... well, not precisely happy, but-" "What happened?" "There were problems. He said I had changed. I suppose he was right, although-" "He broke the engagement?" "I... I think a case could be made that we broke it together..." As he advanced on her, she found herself backing into a nearby room, almost stumbling over a delicate gilded chair. "Mr. Craven, I wish you would stop prowling after me this way!”

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Book:Dreaming of You
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“I had every right to accept Lady Raiford's invitation," she said stubbornly. "A-and I won't leave, no matter what you say to me!" "Then I will." "All right!" To her amazement, an urge to taunt him overcame her, and she added, "If you have so little control over yourself that you find it necessary to run away from me." His face was wiped clean of all expression, but she could sense the fury that blazed within him. "They say God protects fools and children- for your sake I hope it's true.”

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Book:Dreaming of You
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“She was swamped by a feeling of utter hopelessness as she waited for him to destroy her with a few caustic words. But he continued to watch her silently, his face unreadable. It seemed almost as if he were waiting for some cue from her. The dilemma lasted for several seconds, until Sara solved it by bursting into tears. She jerked her hands up to her face, blotting her streaming eyes. "I'm so sorry," she gasped. Suddenly he was next to her, touching her shoulders and arms lightly and then jerking his hands back as if burned. "No, don't. Don't. You're all right now." Gingerly he reached out to pat her back. "Don't cry. Everything's fine. Bloody hell. Don't do that." As she continued to weep, Derek hovered over her in baffled dismay. He excelled at seducing women, charming and deceiving them, breaking down their defenses... everything but comforting them. No one had ever required it of him. "There, now," he muttered, as he had heard Lily Raiford say a thousand times to her crying children. "There, now." Suddenly she was leaning on him, her small head testing at the center of his chest. The long skeins of her hair draped everywhere, entangling him in a fine russet web. Alarmed, he lifted his hands to ease her away. Instead his arms slid around her until she was pressed against him length to length. "Miss Fielding," he said with great effort. "Sara..." She nestled deeper against him, muffling her gulping sobs in his shirtfront. Derek swore and furtively pressed his lips to the top of her head. He concentrated on the chilly night air, but his loins began to throb with an all-too-familiar pain. It was impossible to stay indifferent to the feel of her body molded to his. He was a bloody charlatan... no gentleman, no chivalrous comforter of women, only a scoundrel filled with raw desire. He smoothed his hand over her hair and urged her head into his shoulder until she was in danger of being smothered. "It's all right," he said gruffly. "Everything's fine now. Don't cry anymore.”

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Book:Dreaming of You
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“You think I don’t know what I want? You think I love the idea of relying on my looks for life? No! It’s pathetic! In my head, I have a nice, quiet, normal job that involves me running my own business. I carry a briefcase around my office with important documents, I have a nice assistant who calls me boss, and people ask me questions—they ask for my advice because I matter! I’m important to them! I’m recognized as something more than a pretty face and a pair of legs. I have a brain and interests and thoughts about religion, and poverty, and economics. I’m not a miserable girl with a number attached to her chest, stripping her clothes off in a room full of people.”

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“Fashion models and financial models are similar. They bear a similar relationship to everyday world. Like supermodels, financial models are idealized representations of the real world, they are not real, they don't quite work the way that the real world works. There is celebrity in both worlds. In the end, there is the same inevitable disappointment" - Satyajit Das, Traders, Guns & Money”

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Book:Traders, Guns & Money: Knowns and Unknowns in the Dazzling World of Derivatives
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