Wicked Intentions Quotes

“There's something about her," Caire said in a low voice. "She cares for everyone about her, yet neglects herself. I want to be the one who cares for her.”
― Elizabeth Hoyt, Wicked Intentions

“Every word you have ever uttered, is engraved upon my heart.”
― Elizabeth Hoyt, Wicked Intentions

“I love you," she sobbed, rubbing her hands over his face, his hair, his chest, making sure he was solid and real. "I love you, and I thought you were dead. I couldn't bear it. I thought I would die too."

"I'd walk through fire for you," he rasped, his voice hoarse and broken. "I have walked through fire for you.”
― Elizabeth Hoyt, Wicked Intentions

“It was a strange thing, this feeling of empathy. He'd never experienced it before. He realized that what hurt this woman hurt him as well, that what made her bleed caused a hemorrhage of pain within his soul.”
― Elizabeth Hoyt, Wicked Intentions

“Please remember that just because love isn't expressed doesn't mean it isn't felt.”
― elizabeth hoyt, Wicked Intentions

“But like the legless man, I'm unaccountably fascinated by those who can dance.”
― Elizabeth Hoyt, Wicked Intentions

“And if he presses, tell him it’s a female matter. That stops any question.”
― Elizabeth Hoyt, Wicked Intentions

“Why me?"
"Because you draw me. Because you are kind but not soft. Because when you touch me, the pain is bittersweet. Because you cradle a desperate secret to your bosom, like a viper in your arms, and don't let go of it even as it gnaws upon your very flesh. I want to pry that viper from your arms. To suckle upon your torn and bloody flesh. To take your pain within myself and make it mine.”
― Elizabeth Hoyt, Wicked Intentions

“Lazarus had never thought of himself as lovable. Therefore it should come as no shock at all that Temperance did not, in fact, love him. No, not a shock... but it would have been nice had she had some small feeling for him.
Lazarus pondered his own sickening craving as he guided his black gelding through the London morning throng the day after he'd walked out on Temperance. It appeared that his own nascent emotions had provoked a new desire as well: the urge to be loved. How banal. And yet, banal or not, he could not change the way his heart felt.
A corner of his mouth quirked up humorlessly. It seemed he must be like other men after all.”
― Elizabeth Hoyt, Wicked Intentions

“You've used me to punish yourself, haven't you?"
He watched dawning realization spread over her face, a confirmation more positive than anything she could ever say, and that arrow twisted deep in his
chest. Yet still he had to ask the last question.
"Am I anything to you but a punishment?”
― Elizabeth Hoyt, Wicked Intentions

“You should leave her entirely."

Caire's mouth twisted humourlessly. "I find I cannot."

"Why?" St. John shook his head. "She isn't even your type."

"What is my type?"

St. John glanced away. They both knew well enough the kind of women Caire favoured.

"There's something about her," Caire said in a low voice. "She cares for everyone about her, yet neglects herself. I want to be the one who cares for her.”
― Elizabeth Hoyt, Wicked Intentions

“Why?" she asked urgently. "Why me?"

"Because," he murmured, "you draw me. Because you are kind but not soft. Because you cradle a desperate secret to your bosom, like a viper in your arms, and don't let go of it even as it gnaws on your very flesh. I want to pry that viper from your arms. To take that pain within myself and make it mine.”
― Elizabeth Hoyt, Wicked Intentions

“Temperance Dews stood with quiet confidence, a respectable women who lived in the sewer that was St. Giles. Her eyes had widened at the sight of Lazarus, but she made no move to flee. Indeed, finding a strange man in her pathetic sitting room seemed not to frighten her at all.

Interesting.

“I am Lazarus Huntington, Lord Caire,” he said.

“I know. What are you doing here?”

He tilted his head, studying her. She knew him, yet did not recoil in horror? Yes, she’d do quite well. “I’ve come to make a proposition to you, Mrs. Dews.”

Still no sign of fear, though she eyed the doorway. “You’ve chosen the wrong woman, my lord. The night is late. Please leave my house.”

No fear and no deference to his rank. An interesting woman indeed.

“My proposition is not, er, illicit in nature,” he drawled. “In fact, it’s quite respectable. Or nearly so.”

She sighed, looked down at her tray, and then back up at him. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

He almost smiled. Tea? When had he last been offered something so very prosaic by a woman? He couldn’t remember.

But he replied gravely enough. “Thank you, no.”

She nodded. “Then if you don’t mind?”

He waved a hand to indicate permission.

She set the tea tray on the wretched little table and sat on the padded footstool to pour herself a cup. He watched her. She was a monochromatic study. Her dress, bodice, hose, and shoes were all flat black. A fichu tucked in at her severe neckline, an apron, and cap—no lace or ruffles—were all white. No color marred her aspect, making the lush red of her full lips all the more startling. She wore the clothes of a nun, yet had the mouth of a sybarite.

The contrast was fascinating—and arousing.

“You’re a Puritan?” he asked.

Her beautiful mouth compressed. “No.”
― Elizabeth Hoyt, Wicked Intentions

“I believe that you wanted to love Marie—that you’re enamored by the idea of love—but that you have no concept what love is. I think that’s what you’re searching for in St. Giles—some source of emotion, some inkling of what human feeling really is.”
― Elizabeth Hoyt, Wicked Intentions

“Temperance pursed her lips, her eyes firmly fixed on the growing mound of chopped turnip roots. “Do you think anyone really likes turnips?”

“Temperance…”

Temperance poked the tip of her knife into a white cube and held it up. “They are very filling, of course, but really, when was the last time you heard someone say, ‘Oh, I’m so very fond of turnips’?”
― Elizabeth Hoyt, Wicked Intentions

“in”
― Elizabeth Hoyt, Wicked Intentions

“It was a strange thing, this feeling of empathy. He’d never experienced it before. He realized that what hurt this woman hurt him as well, that what made her bleed caused a hemorrhage of pain within his soul.”
― Elizabeth Hoyt, Wicked Intentions

“There’s something about her,” Caire said in a low voice. “She cares for everyone about her, yet neglects herself. I want to be the one who cares for her.”
― Elizabeth Hoyt, Wicked Intentions

“Can anyone ever know everything about another person?”
― Elizabeth Hoyt, Wicked Intentions

“TEMPERANCE STARED”
― Elizabeth Hoyt, Wicked Intentions