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Quote by Elizabeth Hoyt

“But worse- much, much worse- she'd run away herself. That was unpardonable, unforgivable, unjustifiable. Hit him, shame him, spit at him- anything but turn her back on him. She couldn't simply quit their game. That, that was not allowed. And when he'd realized that she was out there on the stormy night moor, alone save an aristocratic lady and a goddamned bloody pony... He growled beneath his breath. She stilled against him, like a rabbit under a hound's jaws, her heart beating rapidly, and he was glad. She ought to be afraid of him. He was a very bad man and she was completely under his power. He could do anything to her. Anything at all, really. Time she learned that.”

Quote by Elizabeth Hoyt

Work

Duke of Sin

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Author

Elizabeth Hoyt
Elizabeth Hoyt

Elizabeth Hoyt, born in 1970, is a renowned American romance novel author. Her works are known for their delicate emotional descriptions and captivating storylines, which have won her a large following among readers. more

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“She was just ordinary. From her horse's-mane hair to her sturdy, practical feet, she'd never turned men's heads. Oh, she wasn't ill-favored- her features were regular enough- but she knew, too, that she wasn't the sort of woman whom men flirted with. Whom men stared at. She'd had a few admirers in the past, but they hadn't been a multitude. She was unremarkable. The Duke of Montgomery was anything but. Perhaps, then, that was what drew him to her- her very normality. Val was just quixotic enough to become fascinated- for a short time- by the prosaic. That was quite a depressing thought, but Bridget faced it practically. She knew that whatever else happened they were not meant to be together for any length of time.”

“Around back of the stables she saw a group of boys, surrounding something on the ground. As she gasped, a boy- a great big fellow, nearly as big as a man- drew back his leg and kicked. The thing on the ground yelped. "No!" Bridget shouted, but she was drowned out by a gunshot. She turned to see the Duke of Montgomery, standing in his shirt-sleeves and pink embroidered waistcoat and breeches, hip cocked, a smoking pistol held almost negligently aloft in his left hand. He smiled, as sweetly as an adder baring its fangs, at the boys. "Won't you please vacate this area?" The boys seemed frozen by surprise- or stark fear. The duke tilted his head and his smile dropped from his face, leaving it blank- and somehow much more frightening. "Now.”

“His face might've been carved by a Greek sculptor, so perfect were his cheekbones, lips, and nose. His eyes were of the clearest azure. His curling hair was the color of polished guineas and quite gorgeous- which the duke obviously knew, since he wore it long, unpowdered, and tied at the nape of his neck with an enormous black bow. He wore an elegant purple velvet coat over a cloth-of-gold waistcoat embroidered in black and crimson. Fountains of lace fell from wrists and throat as he lounged in a winged armchair, one long leg thrust forward. Diamonds on the buckles of his shoes glinted in the candlelight. His Grace was urbane male sophistication personified- but anyone who therefore dismissed him as harmless was a rank fool. The Duke of Montgomery was as deadly as a coiled adder discovered suddenly at one's feet.”

“Not only had his housekeeper attempted to steal from him, but she'd refused to answer his questions, and- he surveyed the servants sent to wait upon him- if he wasn't mistaken she'd made sure to hide away the comeliest of his maids and footmen. Did she think him a satyr? Well, perhaps she wasn't entirely mistaken in her judgement... Val smirked as he shed his banyan- the only article of clothing he wore- and sauntered nude to the bath. He crooked a finger at the eldest and most worldly-looking of the footmen. If Mrs. Crumb thought to curtail his bedsport, she was going to be sadly disappointed.”

“The corners of her mouth drooped and he felt an odd panicked twinge somewhere in that empty space where a heart might dwell in other people. "The trouble," Eve said, "is that I've never been able to tell when you're lying to me and when you're not. It wouldn't matter, I suppose, but that you don't care if you lie to me or not. And I do. I used to not. Or maybe I used to tell myself I didn't care. But Val," she said softly, looking at him with his own eyes, "now I do." She turned and, taking Makepeace's arm, very quietly left the room with her fiancé. And it was a very good thing, Val thought, that he hadn't a heart. Because it might've broken then.”

“As she pulled the covers over her cold nose, Bridget wondered sleepily why she hadn't simply agreed to help the Duke of Kyle in whatever way she could. He was obviously working for good and Montgomery... well, he worked only for himself, didn't he? He was on the side of evil. Why hadn't she betrayed him when she was given the opportunity? She thought about the way he'd touched her- the way it had made her feel like a woman. Had she sold her own honor for a handful of kisses, a bite, and a lick? Or was it because of his gaze when he'd told her to fuck the rules, when he'd turned aside from threatening Kyle at her touch, when he'd called her a ridiculous, exotic name? When he'd looked at her and seen her as a person, not just a servant?”

“She used to be so frightened when they were young. Like a pale little ghost, slipping into the shadows, hiding from their vicious elders, trying not to be noticed. He'd saved her once. Swept her away like a prince in a fairy tale, but that was long ago and far away and perhaps no longer mattered. How were such things counted among normal people? For she'd thawed. He could see that now. She was no longer that frozen, scared little girl afraid to be noticed. Afraid to live. He supposed he should thank Makepeace for that. For taking his Eve, his sister, and blowing warm life into her.”