Secrets of a Summer Night (Wallflowers, #1)

by Lisa Kleypas

“I mean that I will afflict the most acute kind of pain, mental, physical, and financial, on the first man who dares to trespass on my territory. And the next person who repeats any unsubstantiated rumors about Miss Peyton in my hearing will find it shoved right back in his throat—along with my fist.” Simon’s smile contained a tigerish menace as he beheld Burdick’s stunned face. “Tell that to anyone who may find it of interest,”

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I am coming to believe that there are two kinds of people . . . those who choose to be masters of their own fate and those who wait in chairs while others dance.

🥲

“A pretty sound, that,” he said softly. Annabelle struggled to find her voice. “What is?” she asked. “Your laughter.”

“Lovely,” she murmured, her face gleaming in the shadow cast by the canopy of ancient, interlaced branches. “Yes.” But Hunt was looking at her.

And in the moments when Annabelle had struggled to breathe, staring at him with eyes bright with pain and fear, he would have done anything for her. Anything.

“Please . . . take me to my room.” Hunt tilted her head back gently and regarded her with a sudden faint smile playing on his lips. “Sweetheart, I would take you to the ends of the earth if you asked.”

😩😩😩😩

“Someone like me? If you’re implying that I’m spoiled, I assure you that I’m not.” “You should be.” His warm gaze slid over her pink-tinted face and slender upper body. “You could do with a bit of spoiling.”

“Why offer to marry me when you might have me as your mistress?” He nuzzled her throat gently. “Because I realized during the past few days that I can’t leave doubt in anyone’s mind about to whom you belong. Especially not yours.”

“Every time I see you,” he murmured, “I think you couldn’t possibly become any more beautiful—and you always prove me wrong.”

“You’re going to take me to Paris tomorrow. I won’t be deprived of the honeymoon you promised.” Nuzzling into her tangled curls, Simon replied with the trace of a smile in his voice. “No, sweet wife . . . you won’t be deprived in any way.”

“I have no self-control where you’re concerned. Every minute that I’m not with you, all I can think about is being inside you. I hate everything that keeps you separate from me.”

Uggggghhh

“My God, I can’t stand this! I can’t let you go out every day, fearing every minute that something might happen to you, knowing that every ounce of sanity I’ve got left is hinged on your well-being. I can’t feel this way . . . it’s too strong . . . oh, hell. I’ll turn into a raving lunatic. I’ll never be of use to anyone again. If I could just reduce it somehow . . . love you only half this much . . . I might be able to live with it.”

When their noses were nearly touching, he took a deep breath, and said, “I love you, dammit.” She brushed her lips teasingly against his. “How much?” He made a slight sound, as if the soft kiss had affected him intensely. “Without limit. Beyond forever.”

There was a new, wondering note in his voice as he said, “Kiss me again.” “No, I’ll hurt you. I’m leaning on your leg.” “That’s not my leg,” came his roguish reply, making her laugh.

LOL