A Daring Pursuit

My Review: Hate isn’t the opposite of love – apathy is. This book is the historical equivalent of The Hating Game…. a stoic hero who hides the way he feels because deep down he knows the woman he’s secretly in love with could never see him that way. He purposefully buries his unruly emotions behind a mask of disdain. But Tristan is about to discover that Carys has been hiding things as well.Carys loves to goad her stern, immovable neighbor to reveal what’s he’s thinking. She knows still waters run deep, (after all, he resembles nothing so much as a frigid Welsh stream), but she wants to know if she occupies his dreams. Because he definitely figures very prominently in hers. Even though they have been enemies their whole lives. He just returned from the battlefield, and he seems more fierce and more stern and more unapproachable than ever. And she wants nothing more than to ruffle his feathers.Carys has been a thorn in Tristan’s side since they were children. She’s daring and fearless and completely impervious to the dictates of propriety. She has a style uniquely her own that accentuates her passionate nature and her recklessness. The diaphanous gown she wears to the masquerade of the season is the last straw. He can’t look away. And not because he wants to chastise her. Because he wants to devour her. Because he finally acknowledges that he is jealous of every other hand that touches hers. Every other pair of feet that tangles her into a dance. All it takes is a single waltz and it becomes even harder to remember why they’re enemies. All it takes is a fortuitous rescue and he takes on the role of her dragon slayer. An unplanned kiss leads to the realization that they are the instrument of each other’s torment in more ways than one. Carys makes Tristan a proposal he can’t refuse because he no longer has the willpower to deny her. A proposal he accepts against his better judgment because he’s convinced they are polar opposites. Escaped bears, cunning ravens and muddy rescues bring them inexorably closer. The lines between what they should want and what they do want blur even more, until they are forced to admit they are each other’s perfect complement. MY FAVORITE QUOTES:He’d spent a large part of his twenty-seven years perfecting the art of ignoring her, of appearing cool and indifferentto her inflammatory presence when his entire being prickled with awareness whwnever they were in the same room.Heat flashed through her. He was so strong, so solid. She felt like Odysseus, lashed to a mast in a storm. How tempting it would be to melt against him, to surrender to the siren call of sensation. The darkened tent was full of people, but awareness of him obliterated everything else. He smelled of vetiver and spice, masculine and delicious. She wanted to turn around and press her nose into his shirtfront, to sniff at him like a truffle-hunting pig. Why was needling him her favorite occupation? It was like poking a tiger with a stick - or a leopard with a parasol. One day the big cat would pounce.Why would I add to my menagerie? A husband would be less loyal than a dog, less affectionate than a cat, and less amusing than a monkey. Not to mention less obedient. Animals are cheaper than husbands too. If I marry - even someone like Ellington- I’ll lose the right to manage my own money. I’ll become a possession, thanks to the laws of couverture. I’d be the one in a cage. Why put myself in that position?I love you. I’ve loved you for years, even when I couldn’t admit it to myself. Why do you think the walls in my bedroom are green?

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