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“Rohan was staring into the flames and savoring a brandy. The sensual way he cupped the rounded snifter in his palm caused a completely unexpected shudder of wild longing to run the length of her entire body, for his tender hold on that globelike glass brought back hazy memories of his attentions last night to her breasts. And when he raised the glass to his lips and took a slow, leisurely sip, Kate had to close her eyes for a moment to steady herself. Dear God. His butler announced her in a formal tone. "Your Grace: Miss Madsen." Kate flicked her eyes open, but her cheeks were already burning when the duke looked over. He cast her a dangerous smile, and a giddy weakness crept up her body, starting at her knees. She tightened them reflexively and gave her quivering legs the silent order to move, and by all means, to forget the feel of his forbidden caresses running up her thighs.” — Gaelen Foley