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Quote by Samantha James

“She should have known! Beneath his polished exterior lurked the heart of a rogue. His slow-growing smile was utterly wicked. "I forget nothing, my dear Fionna. In fact, quite the opposite. I know precisely what I did, what we did. We kissed. No more. Indeed, I believe you should be aware I exercised a great deal of restraint, for it was but a hint of all I long for-”

Quote by Samantha James

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The Seduction Of An Unknown Lady

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Samantha James

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“To her mortification, she was staring at him openly, ogling, and she couldn't seem to stop. If the back view of West Ravenel was fascinating, the front was absolutely mesmerizing. He was much harrier than her husband had been, his chest covered with dark fur that narrowed to a V at his midriff, and there was more hair on his forearms, and even a little trail below the navel. His shoulders and arms were so powerfully developed, one had to wonder why he hadn't simply wrestled the bull into submission.”

“What a startling sight... a healthy, virile male in his prime. Strong and completely muscled, barbaric and yet beautiful. Fortunately he was facing partially away from her, so that her surveillance went unnoticed. He toweled his hair until the thick locks stood on end and worked down to his arms and chest, scrubbing vigorously. His back was powerful, the line of his spine a pronounced groove. The broad slopes of his shoulders flexed as he draped the towel across and began to dry himself with a sawing motion. A plentitude of hair covered his limbs and the upper portion of his chest, and there was far more at his groin than the decorative tuft she had expected.”

“His torso was a perfect "V" of golden skin and muscle; his slim hips, whiter than the rest of him, tapered to thighs and calves that could have been turned on a lathe, and these were dusted all over with fair hair that glinted in the low sunlight. The hair on his head was cropped short and beacon-bright, but the features of his face were nearly indistinct from where she watched. Given the glory of the rest of him, they scarcely seemed to matter. The man's beauty was, in fact, an assault, and a peculiar tangle of shock and delight and yearning began to beat inside her like a secret, second heart. And then the man stretched his arms upward, arching his back indolently; exposing the dark fluffs under his arms, and this, somehow, seemed more erotic and intimate than the rest of his naked body combined. Susannah had seen paintings and statues of naked men, for heaven's sake, but none of them had ever sported fluffy hair beneath their arms. In fact, the sheer easiness with which this man wore all his raw beauty frightened her a little. He was like someone too casually wielding a weapon. She fumbled her sketchbook open. Quickly, roughly, she sketched him: the upraised arms, the curves of his biceps and legs and the planes of his chest, and when he turned, the darker hair that curled between his legs and narrowed up to a frayed silvery-blond line over his flat stomach. Nestled right between his legs were, of course, his... male parts...which looked entirely benign at the moment, really, at least from this distance. She sketched those, too, as she intended to be thorough, hardly thinking of them as anything other than part of her drawing.”

“Kit smiled a little as he bent to retrieve the abandoned sketchbook; the irony of a spy being spied upon didn't escape him. He leafed through it idly. Imagine that... she'd not only been spying... she'd been documenting her findings. He bit back a laugh when he saw himself, arms stretched skyward, penis dangling modestly---he had been swimming, after all. But it was a beautiful drawing. She'd roughed in the pier beneath him and the trees behind it, too, and she'd caught him perfectly, the mindless contentment of the moment, the strength and confidence of his body, a hint of pleased-with-himself arrogance in the arch of his back. There was nothing tentative or missish about the drawing; it was, above all things, honest and surprisingly accomplished. He was flattered, but he felt oddly exposed, which had nothing to do with the fact that he was naked in the sketch. She'd captured something essential about him.”

“Oh my god," I said, because yes, Seth was breathing. He was also naked. Not totally naked, I realized a beat later. He had a towel wrapped around his waist. Which, come to think of it, explained why everything smelled like lavender. It also explained the beads of water clinging to the black curls scattering his chest and taut stomach and the thicker trail of black hair leading down beneath the towel---”