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Kindle Notes & Highlights
Catherine wasn’t a trollop. She was chaste and pure and proper. Although after tasting his kiss, she realized her life was rather dull.
My opinion of a man is not influenced by something over which he has no control—such as comely features.
“Your language is vulgar, sir.” “I believe the occasion warrants it.” “Indeed it does.”
“The more you drink, the better it tastes.” She took another sip. It didn’t taste any better. “It’s not tea, gulp it,” he ordered impatiently. “Don’t be tart with me. I saved your life.”
“The first time you kissed me to intimidate me. The second to distract me. What would be your excuse this time?” “Damned if I know.”
He wanted Catherine rough, he wanted her tenderly.
With Catherine, he saw a kaleidoscope of their contorted naked bodies.
Could love have only one side to it and still be love?
From the first moment he’d spotted her at that ball all those years ago, when he’d gazed into her eyes, he’d thought that if he still possessed all his soul it would have found its mate in hers.
She shall always remain the love of my youth, the one for whom I sold my soul to the devil. But Catherine, my beloved Catherine, shall always be the center of my heart, the one who, in the final hour, would not let the devil have me.
