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“It's tempting. I can see why those Ottomans hide their women. If I could, I might dress you in silk- deep-red silk- and put you away where no other man might see you." She turned her head to glare at him, those dark eyes sparking. "I shouldn't like that." He smiled at her fondly, almost sadly. This woman- why did he want this woman so very much? "I know." He sipped at her lips lightly- so lightly. "And yet, as I say, tempting." He caught her lips with his, widening her mouth, tasting red wine and gravy, apples, and her, all her. Bridget, Séraphine, her. Her. Her. Her.” — Elizabeth Hoyt
It's tempting. I can see why those Ottomans hide their women. If I could, I might dress you in silk- deep-red silk- and put you away where no other man might see you."
She turned her head to glare at him, those dark eyes sparking. "I shouldn't like that."
He smiled at her fondly, almost sadly. This woman- why did he want this woman so very much?
"I know." He sipped at her lips lightly- so lightly. "And yet, as I say, tempting."
He caught her lips with his, widening her mouth, tasting red wine and gravy, apples, and her, all her. Bridget, Séraphine, her.
Her.
Her.
Her.