Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed Quotes

“He wasn’t good enough for her. But by God, he meant to make her happy while he had her.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“We have a week, Miss Forsythe. Time's winged chariot and all that.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“She shook her head. “No, Jonas.”
“ ‘No, Jonas’ is all you ever say,” he responded with a hint of savagery. He knew he was unfair, but he was just so damned miserable.
Her smile wavered into a warmth that calmed his anger. “Not always.”
He shut his eyes as the memory of wild nights overpowered him. Good God, at this rate, he’d be bawling like a motherless calf.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“He swallowed again and tightened his grip so even if she wanted to leave, she couldn’t. It astonished him how difficult it was to find the one word he needed after these exquisite days. The one word he had no right to say.
He forced the forbidden syllable from his tight throat.
“Stay.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“She loved his laughter. She loved that he faced the world with a reckless smile on his scarred face. Her heart crashed against her chest. A revelation descended. A revelation unrelated to the desire heating her blood.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“You're breathtakingly exciting. You've turned my nights to fire. You've lit my whole world with flame.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“He looked younger, kinder, a brighter image of the man she knew. A man life hadn’t mistreated or betrayed. Whatever the pain of this union, she loved that she gave him this momentary peace. This encounter lurched from the physical onto a different plane. A plane revealing a new emotional landscape. She felt lightheaded, lost.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“The tension drained from her face and she softened in his hold until she was again the fluid, responsive woman who had kissed him within an inch of his life. This time he knew better than to restrain her when she slipped from the bed. He bit back an appeal for her to stay with him. If his life depended on it, he couldn’t say whether he wanted her to stay an hour, a day, or forever.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“Open your mouth, tesoro.” He angled her face higher. “Open your mouth for me.”
At his raw demand, her eyes flared wide. For a drunken moment, he drowned in glorious brown, rich, autumnal, sensual.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“Seeing her was like standing in sunlight after a long, hard winter, but he couldn't be easy meeting her in such surroundings.
"Oh, Jonas," she said in a broken voice and started to cry.
"Tesoro... sweetheart... my love," he choked out, cradling her in his arms. "Don't cry. Please don't cry.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“Seeing her was like standing in sunlight after a long, hard winter, but he couldn't be easy meeting her in such surroundings.
"Oh, Jonas," she said in a broken voiced started to cry.
"Tesoro... sweetheart... my love," he choked out, cradling her in his arms. "Don't cry. Please don't cry.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“Nobody hits you while I've got breath in my body."
Shock sent her heart crashing against her ribs. Jonas had fought William not because of what happened at Eton but because he wouldn't see her hurt. He'd been her champion, not avenger of his own wrongs. An astonishing surge of emotion that extended far beyond mere gratitude left her reeling. Roberta had been her protector when she'd been a little girl but since then, she'd fought every battle alone.
"Thank you," she whispered, the words utterly inadequate. Briefly forgetting their audience, she lifted his fist and pressed a reverent kiss to his broken knuckles. "But you can't kill him."
With her kiss, the inhuman chill slowly drained from Jonas's expression. Thank heaven. Once more he looked like the man she knew. He sucked in a choked breath and she felt his coiled tension ease. "As you wish.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“You're considerate and funny and you're a lover out of my dreams. Should I develop a taste for luxuries- which I may well do after this week- you're so plump in the pocket, you wouldn't notice if I started buying gold-plated underthings."
His smile was uncertain, nonetheless it was a smile. Her churning misery eased a fraction. "I'd notice anything you did with your undergarments, amore mio.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“Her smile was provoking. Where had she learned to smile like that? The woman who arrived at his castle wouldn't smile like that. She'd been a furled rosebud, fragrant with potential. This Sidonie was a full-blown flower, sweet-scented and luscious.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“What artist could recreate Sidonie's sensuous beauty? No mere dauber could capture the feminine musk on the air. Or depict the soft, uneven pattern of her breathing. Her skin was flushed. A pulse fluttered in the hollow of her throat. Her lips were full and dark, although he'd hardly kissed her.
Over and over in the mirrors, she emerged from the loosened gown like a water lily from a lake. He loomed over her like a nightmare.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“He brushed her hair until it was nearly dry. He had to reach forward to catch the brandy glass. Lazy delight swirled through her at the glance of his hand over hers. Each stroke of the brush leached away another layer of resistance. After all the fear and anger, she slid into a fog of languorous docility. Perhaps soon he'd take her to bed. Surely he hadn't meant it when he said she'd sleep alone.
He set the brush aside and lifted her into his arms. She murmured sleepily and nestled into his chest. She was warm. He was warm. Everything was delicious warmth. She smothered a yawn and shut her eyes.
Jonas...
She might have spoken his name aloud. She nuzzled his chest, drawing in more rain-fresh scent. She thought he growled softly in his throat. She wasn't sure. She was so tired, she wasn't sure about much.
He set her down on the bed, the mattress sagging beneath her, and pulled up the covers. His arms slipped away with what felt like reluctance and the loss pierced her drowsiness. She whimpered in protest and waited for him to slide in beside her.
She kept her eyes shut. Looking at him veered too near to admitting she'd stopped fighting. She heard him sigh. His clean scent flooded her senses when he pressed his lips to her forehead then briefly kissed her mouth.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“You took advantage." She sounded as if she loathed him. Even on the first night, she'd never spoken to him with such rancor.
"Sidonie, please..." All gifts of eloquence had abandoned him. Rolling out of the bed, hoping some physical distance would soothe her, he reached for her. She flinched away as though avoiding a blow.
"I'm so stupid," she said in a broken voice, then set a great crack in his heart when she wiped her eyes with shaking hands. Sod it to hell and back. She was crying. He felt like the lowest worm ever to crawl upon this foul earth.
"You're not," he said, even as his belly cramped with sick shame and misery. In an attempt to ease her grief, he dared to touch her arm.
That was a mistake, too.
She recoiled and scrambled from the bed. Panting as if she'd run a mile, she stood in the center of the room. She looked young and afraid and heartbreakingly vulnerable. Not at all like the siren who had measured the heights of pleasure only seconds before. The mirrors reflected a woman with eyes huge and dark as bruises. A woman who stood proudly even as her mouth twisted in humiliation.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“He lurched forward to correct the slant of her glass. She seemed unaware of anything beyond the sexual energy blazing between them.
She blushed at his action and straightened against the gold upholstery. He was a cad to delight in her confusion, but she had him in such a maelstrom, he was devilish tickled not to suffer alone. Her eyes were glazed, her cheeks flushed. She licked her lips, leaving them glistening and, oh, so kissable.
Her voice was husky. "Sir, I..."
Damn this. He stood and prowled across to retrieve her glass before she spilled brandy over her pretty dress. Her fingers trembled as she pulled free.
"Shh." He placed the glass on the side table. Ignoring her discouraging posture, he started to take down her hair.
She batted at his hands. "Merrick! Stop it."
"Calm, bella." He stood before her, blocking any escape.
"I won't be calm," she snapped, trying ineffectually to stop him spreading the mane of hair over her shoulders. It crinkled after its confinement and caught the firelight, shining gold and brown and red, the rich colors of autumn.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“He sat up, his shirt sagging to reveal the curve of one powerful shoulder. The sight of smooth tanned skin dried every drop of moisture from her mouth. Such a contrast to his marred face. She hadn't considered him handsome at first, even disregarding the scars. With every hour, his physical allure grew. Right now, she'd scorn a handsome man as banal. Idiot that she was, she'd discovered a taste for dark and dangerous and damaged.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“The dresses are indecent," she said stiffly, the rich silk flowing against her body like water.
"But pretty."
She shot him another fulminating glance. His eyes lit with that unholy glint she'd learned to mistrust. "Admit it. It's a gorgeous dress and you look gorgeous in it."
"It's made for a courtesan."
He snorted. "What do you know about courtesans, sweet little lamb?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Knowing about courtesans is no character recommendation."
"Cutting." His smile reeked satisfaction. "Yet still you wear the gown."
"Mrs. Bevan took away my muslin."
"She must need a dishclout."
She didn't know why she argued. Who could object to wearing something so stylish? While the silk might cling to her body, it wouldn't raise an eyebrow in any London salon. Especially on a lady no longer an ingenue. "No respectable woman would wear this dress."
He trailed one finger down her cheek, tracing a prickling path of awareness. "But, amore mio, you're no longer a respectable woman. You're a monster's paramour.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“Suddenly the relentless push and pull he practiced upon her was unendurable. Merrick lured her to deny everything she believed in return for the sheer pleasure of his touch. And for the sake of that half-smile tilting his mouth. Tears sprang to her eyes. "Please stop." She hardly recognized the choked voice. "For pity's sake, please stop."
He frowned and lifted his hand. "Sidonie, I won't take it further."
"You say that but you don't mean it." Hurriedly she shoved her skirt down. "And I fall for your tricks like the veriest mooning.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“I see why you tolerate Mrs. Bevan's eccentric manners. What a pity she's forgotten cutlery."
Merrick sipped his golden wine. The pleasure on his face reminded her of his expression after kissing her. Devil take him, everything reminded her of his kisses. "What a pity," he said with spurious regret. "Eating with one's fingers is so... primitive."
She blushed. He turned the most innocent words into an invitation to wickedness.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“She straightened her back another degree, even as Merrick's eyelids sank lower. He looked half asleep but he remained alert to everything around him, including her increasingly frail resistance. Good heavens, he didn't have to watch her to confirm her vulnerability. Hadn't she just let him kiss her into a stupor?
He hadn't mentioned the kisses. Nor had she. But every time she met his glinting silver eyes, she remembered the shocking intimacy of his tongue in her mouth.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“He chanced one last touch of his mouth to hers then drew away. She was flushed and her lips were red and moist. Her glowing beauty made his heart stumble. A man with one ounce of principle would send her on her way with Roberta's vowels safely folded in her reticule. If Sidonie stayed, Jonas would tarnish her shining goodness. He'd drag his angel down to share his hell.
"Oh, my," she whispered, staring up with eyes more gold than brown.
"Oh, my, indeed." He smiled, he feared, with drunken joy rather than the cynical amusement with which he usually confronted the world.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“Her lips parted and at last gave up the honey within. Luxuriously he savored her mouth. She was delicious. His tongue flickered over hers and he heard a smothered protest.
If he had an ounce of charity in his soul, he'd release her. But her flavor was as addictive as gin to a toper. He'd blithely imagined he'd keep his head during this impromptu lesson. Instead she made a mockery of arrogance. She who had never kissed a man.
On a long, languid exploration, he stroked her tongue. This time, he felt faint movement in return. He released a low growl of approval and teased her again. When she tentatively brushed her tongue against his, the surge of arousal nearly blew his head off. He, the worldly libertine, brought to his knees by an innocent's clumsy kiss. Except now she cooperated, she wasn't clumsy. She was sweet and passionate and quick to follow his lead. When his tongue danced along her lips, she copied his action. When he sucked her tongue into his mouth, she gasped with surprise then tasted him so deeply and with such unalloyed pleasure, his heart crashed against his ribs.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“Open your mouth, tesoro." He angled her face higher. "Open your mouth for me."
At his raw demand, her eyes flared wide. For a drunken moment, he drowned in glorious brown, rich, autumnal, sensual.
"O-open...?"
He took advantage and claimed her, sliding his tongue into the interior. She made a sound of surprise and tried to back off. "No."
"Bella, don't be afraid.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“She was bewitching. Even now when she conceded little more than she had when he'd kissed her last night. She quivered under his hands. He still wasn't sure whether she was excited or frightened. He'd read both curiosity and dread in her pansy eyes. Her thick tortoiseshell hair tickled his fingers. After her wild ride, she looked enchantingly disheveled. It made him contemplate other wild rides he'd like to take with her.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“Don't." She jerked away. Kismet shifted restlessly at her rider's abrupt movement.
"You've never been kissed before, have you?" Merrick didn't sound his usual mocking self. He sounded shaken. The silvery eyes were soft as autumn mist and his mouth was soft, too, full and so tempting it made her ache.
She blinked, horrified to realize she stared at him like a child entranced by Christmas candles. "What... what did you say?"
He regarded her almost tenderly. A warning clanged in her mind's distant reaches. Beware. Beware.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“She made an incoherent protest and tried to pull away, but his hold was implacable. Still he brushed his lips against hers. Pausing briefly here to taste more thoroughly. Lingering there. Without conscious volition, she pursed her lips. Just a hint of kissing him back. No more. Satisfaction rumbled deep in his throat. Her belly pitched as she realized even ceding so little, she ceded too much. Once more she tried to retreat, but it was too late. The hand at her nape flexed and brought her nearer. More heat. More gentleness. More kisses inviting her into the unknown.
By the time he raised his head, she trembled with fear, resentment, and unwilling sensual reaction. She sucked in her first breath in what felt like an hour and opened dazed eyes. He was so close, she had to lean back before his features came into focus. He watched her with an alertness that contradicted the kiss's leisurely sweetness.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

“His lips rubbed across hers, pursed to kiss the corners, returned to suck subtly at her lower lip. More dangerously alluring pleasure blasted her. She made a muffled sound of distress, raising one hand to his chest. To push him away or draw him closer? She couldn't have said.
Her eyes fluttered shut and her senses flooded with Merrick. With his male scent, so alien yet so alluring. The emphatic beat of his heart under her palm. The firm warmth of his mouth.
When his tongue flickered out to touch where he'd kissed her, she started. What an odd thing to do. If he'd told her he meant to lick her, she would have been revolted. In practice, it was... intriguing. Another whimper escaped as her hand clutched at his loose shirt. The leashed power beneath the shirt should terrify her. Right now, that strength stirred curiosity rather than trepidation.”
― Anna Campbell, Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed