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Quote by Lisa Kleypas

“As Lara stared in the square Queen Anne mirror poised on the chest of drawers in her room, it seemed that the atmosphere changed, the air suddenly heavy and pressing. It was so quiet in the cottage that she could hear her own mad heartbeat. She caught sight of something in the mirror, a deliberate movement that paralyzed her. Someone had entered the cottage. Skin prickling, Lara stood in frozen silence and stared into the mirror as another reflection joined her own. A man's bronzed face... short, sun-streaked brown hair... dark brown eyes... the hard, wide mouth she remembered so well. Tall... massive chest and shoulders... a physical power and assurance that made the room seem to shrink around him. Lara's breath stopped. She wanted to run, to cry out, faint, but it seemed that she had been turned to stone. He stood just behind her, his head and shoulders looming far above hers. His gaze held hers in the mirror... The eyes were the same color, yet... he had never looked at her like this, with an intensity that made every inch of her skin burn. His was the hard gaze of a predator. She shook in fright as his hands moved gently to her hair. One by one he slipped the confining pins from the shining sable mass, and set them on the dresser before her. Lara watched him, quivering with each light tug on her hair. "It's not true," she whispered. He spoke in Hunter's voice, deep and slightly raspy. "I'm not a ghost, Lara." She tore her gaze from the mirror and stumbled around to face him. He was so much thinner, his body lean, almost rawboned, his heavy muscles thrown into stark prominence. His skin was tanned to a copper blaze that was far too exotic for an Englishman. And his hair had lightened to the mixed gold and brown of a griffin's feathers.”

Quote by Lisa Kleypas

Book:Stranger in My Arms
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Stranger in My Arms

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Author

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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“If you'll excuse me, I'd like to retire now." "Before dessert?" He gave her a chiding glance, and grinned. "Don't tell me you've lost your sweet tooth." Lara couldn't help returning his smile. "I still have it," she admitted. "I asked Mrs. Rouillé to make a pear tart." Hunter stood and went to her chair, settling his hands on her shoulders as if to keep her there forcibly. Leaning close to her ear, he lowered his voice and murmured, "Stay for just one bite." The velvet rasp of his voice made her shiver. He must have felt the tiny movement, for his fingers tightened on her shoulders. Something about his touch disturbed her profoundly, a gentle strength, a sense of ownership that she balked at. She made an automatic gesture to push him away, but as she felt the warm, hair-dusted backs of his hands, she paused. She couldn't seem to stop herself from exploring the shape of his long bones, the hard angles of his wrists. His fingers flexed, like a cat kneading his paws, and she drew her hands over his in a tentative sweep. The moment spun out, the silence deepening until the only sound that broke it was the tiny sputter of the candle flames. From somewhere above her head, she heard Hunter's shaky laugh, and he pulled back as if she had burned him. "I'm sorry," Lara said softly, her face reddening with surprise at her own actions. "I don't know why I did that." "Don't apologize. In fact..." He knelt by her chair, staring at her. His voice was low and unsteady. "I wish you would again.”

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“Lara's gaze met his. His dark eyes gleamed with amusement. Her breath caught as she accidentally touched the hard surface of his midriff, his heat filtering through the thin linen shirt. She snatched her hand back at once. "Excuse me, I-" "No." He caught her wrist swiftly, enclosing it in a gentle grip. They stared at each other, frozen in a quiet tableau. Hunter exerted only a light tension on her wrist. It would be so easy for him to pull her forward, bring her tumbling into his lap, but he held still. It seemed as if he were waiting for something, his expression arrested, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm much faster than normal. Lara sensed that if she took one step toward him, he would pull her into his arms... Her nerves clamored with excited alarm at the prospect. She looked at his mouth, remembered the warmth and taste of him... Yes, she wanted him to kiss her... but before she could move her leaden feet, Hunter released her with a crooked smile.”

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“Before turning down the lamp, Lara paused to take one last glance at her husband. He was like some magnificent slumbering beast, all his alertness and vitality temporarily banked, his claws sheathed. But on the morrow he would be back in his usual form, mocking, argumentative, charming... and he would resume his efforts to seduce her. What unnerved her was the realization that in some small way she was actually looking forward to it.”

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