My Lady Pirate Quotes

“then, the tears spilled over and began to drip quietly down her cheeks. Without a word, he pulled her close, rubbing her back as she buried her face against his chest and quiet sobs shook her.  Then he lifted his gaze and looked out to sea—where the wind raced, where the horizon stretched empty, and where somewhere, a grieving father was surely missing his capricious daughter.”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“He had a rich, deep baritone voice, and he knew how to use it. To drown out all thoughts. To drown out other voices. To drown out sounds that she didn’t want him to hear, to drown out sounds he knew she didn’t want him to hear—”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“I am going to marry you, you know,” he announced in the same tone he might’ve used to proclaim the state of the weather. But beneath it was a tough note of steel, a steadiness of purpose that was not to be questioned. “You shall be Lady Falconer. There is no use fighting it, Maeve.” “You have no right to determine my future, and I’ll fight you ’til the day I die.” “No. You’ll fight me until you learn to trust me. And trust me you will, as God is my witness.”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“And then he looked up into her eyes and splayed his fingers over her still-flat belly, his smile one of wonder and awe. “And to think that a life grows within you . . . a child. My child. Our child. . .”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“Well?” he said, arching a dark brow. “Well, what?” “I don’t bite.” “Oh. I was waiting for you to make the first move.” “I have. Your gown is conveniently unfastened. Or had you not noticed?”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“And I love you, Gray. I’m sorry I’ve made your life . . . difficult.” “Difficult? You have made it a veritable hell! But it has been quite an adventure, I grant you that. I would not have had it otherwise.”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“They sat together for a long moment; then, eventually, he let his leg swing over and purposely bump hers.  She looked up at him, and found him smiling down at her, his eyes full of teading confidence, and in that moment she loved him more than she had ever loved anyone, anything, in the entire span of her life.”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“He glanced at his admiral, that man so far removed from his own lowly rank that he might have been a god, and found Sir Graham smiling at him. The admiral winked. “Cheer up, Mr. Marshall, I have not even begun to work you yet!”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“Damnation, she’s bleeding!” he roared, the sight shocking him into action. He spun around, nearly colliding with his flag-captain, his flag-lieutenant, the first lieutenant, and a little midshipman who looked as though he was about to piss his breeches. “Damn your eyes, Colin, how the hell could you simply let her walk off the flagship?!”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“Your heart has been sorely wounded, Maeve.” She heard the scrape of his chair as he pushed it back and came around the table toward her. She felt his presence behind her, felt his hands touching her hair, then resting lightly upon her shoulders. It was a gentle touch, a possessive, protective one, and beneath the weight of it she melted inside. His thumbs grazed her nape, eliciting an involuntary shudder; his breath was warm against her cheek as he leaned down and kissed her temple. “I love you, Maeve.” She clenched her hands together fiercely, her nails biting into her palms. “I love you so much I would give my life for you,” he continued. Her fists buried themselves in the folds of the blanket, and the nightshirt just beneath. “I love you so much I would marry you tonight, if I could. But I shall wait, because I would have your father’s consent on the union.”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“What about your reputation, then? Are you saying that yours is false, too?” “On the contrary.” He looked up and gave her his wicked, charming grin. “I’m every bit the blackhearted rake you’ve heard that I am. I eat ladies’ hearts for supper and spit them out in the morning. More cornbread, my dear?”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“She didn’t like the way he was looking at her. Assessing her. Gauging his success, looking for a chink in her armor. He gazed at her for a long time and she stared back at him, her own eyes challenging, angry. And then he made a fierce face at her, took up his knife as though it was a pirate’s dagger, and baring his teeth in a manner meant to be threatening, growled, “Aaaaargh! Eat yer dinner, matey, before I carve out yer liver and feed it to the sharks.” She stared at him, her jaw falling open. He stared back, the corners of his mouth twitching, his face deceptively little-boy innocent. “What?” “You’re . . . deranged,” she murmured. “No, merely hungry. For you. Hurry up and get better so we can make savage, uninhibited love.”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“His eyes gleaming, he lifted the cover from a dish. “Some chicken, my dear?” Without waiting for an answer, he reached across the table, picked up her plate, and piled several tender slabs of choice white meat on her plate. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Do you prefer white meat or dark?” “White.” He nodded in self-satisfaction and plucked the cover off another dish. “Some potatoes?” He spooned some onto her plate, then uncovered another dish. “Turnips? Ah, what have we here . . . carrots. Will you have some, dearest?” “Please.” “And what is this—ah, cornbread!” Maeve’s head jerked up. “Cornbread?” “New England fare, is it not?” Again, that swift, disarming grin, that wicked sparkle of challenge and amusement in his eyes. “I thought you’d find it . . . agreeable.”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“The tablecloth was blue. The napkins were blue. The lovely porcelain plate in front of her was an Oriental design of white and blue. The flowers that made up the centerpiece were blue, the vase they reposed in—blue. Sir Graham grinned at her, and she saw a devilish, wicked gleam in his—also blue—eyes before his long lashes swept down to hide it. “You are pleased, Majesty?”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“He knelt down, and put a flower under her nose. She turned away. He tickled her under the chin with it. “Stop it.” “It is for you.” “I don't want it.” “Ah, Maeve, you wound me. It’s just a poor, innocent flower. To think that its very existence, its very life, was ordained so that it could be presented to you . . . that its very life was cut short so that it could bring a smile of delight to your lovely lips—and now, you don’t want it.” He put his hand to his heart and affected a hurt look. “Dear God, if I were that flower I would be sorely crushed, and go to my death drowning in tears of bitterness and rejection and hurt and abandonment—” “Oh, give me the blasted thing!” she cried, and snatching it away from him, held it protectively against her breast. Sir Graham smiled, his eyes twinkling.”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“Next,” he murmured, evasively, “you’ll be suggesting I wear my Order of the Bath . . .” “That’s right! You’re a real knight, aren’t you?” “Of course he’s a real knight, you idiot!” Aisling chided. “Why do you think he’s called Sir Graham?” The admiral executed a courtly, elegant bow that elicited excited squeals from both girls. “Yes, ladies, I am a knight. The king bestowed the Order on me following my actions at the Nile.” He gave them a secretive, wicked look from beneath his long lashes. “Surely, now, you’ll not suggest that I don my Order, too?”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“I’ll slit his damned throat!” “No, you will not.” “Don’t you dare think to tell me what to do, you blasted son of a—” “Your mouth cries for a good bar of soap, madam. Please refrain from such tawdry language, as I do not like it.” “I don’t give a bloody damn what you do or don’t like, you cad!” Refusing to be goaded, he dropped the cloth into the bowl of water and leaned forward, his eyes hard, intent, determined. “I said, enough.”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“You’re a miserable wretch,” she accused, too weak to even wipe the tangy drops of juice from her chin. He set the glass down, dipped a cloth in a bowl of water, and gently dabbed the lemonade from her parted lips. “I know.” “I think you’re a vile son of a bitch.” He wiped her chin, his touch achingly gentle. “I know that too.” “I’ll see you dead.” “Someday, perhaps. But not now.” He dragged the cool cloth over her neck, her throat, the soft swell of her breasts, refreshing it with water and wiping up the spilt lemonade. “Maybe in thirty, forty years or so . . . depending on which one of us outlives the other.”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“Now Maeve, sweetheart, do not be difficult,” he chided, tipping the glass, still holding her jaw so she couldn’t turn away, and watching her like a hawk to make sure she drank. “I dosed it with plenty of sugar. You’ll find it sweet and tangy, just like you.”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“Colin hid a grin. His stare, keen despite the deceptive softness of his lavender-gray eyes, settled on his admiral as he held the girl so tenderly in his arms. Sir Graham loved women, yes, but never had Colin seen him treat one with the sort of obsessive, worshipful devotion he’d bestowed upon Maeve Merrick from the moment he'd brought her aboard. He’d made a bed for her on the sofa tucked beside the starboard bulkhead, bathed her damp skin, and braided her hair to get the hot, heavy mass off her neck. He’d flung open all the stern windows and gone into a rare fit of temper when the tropical breezes had dimmed and the air grew sultry, hot and still. His demands had sent the harassed Dr. Ryder running for the escape of a rum bottle, a midshipman into tears, and the company into hushed and strained eagerness to obey every order relayed through the lieutenants’ speaking trumpets. And to top it all off, Sir Graham had had a blazing argument with Maeve’s formidable lieutenant, Enolia, over who would get custody of the convalescing Pirate Queen.”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“Dear God, he'd come so close to losing her. Too close. The very thought of how near she'd come to death was enough to take years off his life. Well, no more. He vowed that once he married her, all piratical activity on her part would come to an abrupt end. She could play the Pirate Queen in bed, but beyond that, she would be Lady Falconer, pampered, cherished, adored, and living the life that he, as the most senior officer in the Caribbean, could well afford to give her.”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“Instead, he'd been so desperate to prove to her that he did indeed fulfill that final requirement of hers—that of being a heroic officer—that he'd been thoughtless. He'd been so eager to show her that he was indeed no deserter, no pirate, but an actual knight, indeed, that he'd sat here sweating in his finest dress uniform waiting for her to regain her senses. He had wanted to impress her. Surprise her. Instead, he had shocked her into oblivion.”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“Sweetheart, you are alive. I am alive. And since I cannot be the pirate I always dreamed of being, I fell in love with one instead. I am not a traitor, I am not a deserter, and in time I will explain it all to you. For now, just trust that I am your Gallant Knight.”  He smiled. “Your officer.” She stared at him, uncomprehending. “My friends call me Gray. My men address me as Sir Graham. And the rest of the world knows me as”—he smiled a sheepish, charming grin that pushed a dimple into his chin—“Rear Admiral Sir Graham Falconer, Knight of the Bath and Commander of the Leeward Islands squadron of the Royal Navy’s West Indies Station. My flag is hoisted on His Majesty’s Ship Triton, and we're on our way to Barbados to pick up a convoy of merchant ships to escort back to England, where I shall enjoy a long-deserved leave with you as my wife, if you’ll have me, before duty returns me to my post. Maeve?” Her eyes were slipping shut. “Maeve?” But the shock was too much for her. The Pirate Queen had fainted.”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“He must have seen the question in her eyes. He must have read her confusion, for he smiled gently, folded her hand in his, and raised it to his lips. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said softly, looking at her from over the top of her knuckles, “but you see, Maeve—I am you Gallant Knight after all. I fulfill every blasted one of your criteria.”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“He rocked her, back and forth, back and forth, for a long time, just holding her, just stroking her hair until she quieted. Then he set her back, and she managed to open her eyes. He was looking at her, and never, in anyone’s face, had she seen such raw anguish, such all-consuming love. Not since she had been a little girl and the apple of her father’s eye, had anyone gazed at her with such tender adoration—and Maeve did not know how to react to it. “Maeve, my love . . . I’m sorry. Everything will be all right . . . You’re safe now. I promise. I’ll not let anything happen to you . . .  Ever . . .”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“Someone came into the room. She heard footsteps, sensed someone looming over her, peeling back the sheet to take her pulse and check the bandage. “She may not make it, sir.” “She damn well will make it if I have to cross into the hereafter and drag her back!”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“I’m going to kiss you . . . everywhere. I’m going to kiss you until you swoon with pleasure, until you melt like sugar beneath my lips, until you cry out my name in the throes of passion. I am in love with you, Pirate Queen, whether or not you believe in the notion.”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“Gray, desperate, raked a hand through his hair. “Very well then, belay that. You want the truth, I’ll ram it down your pretty throat! Yes, I jumped ship, and if the navy finds me here, my life is ruined.”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“Very well, then. If it is yours, perhaps you should like to inhabit it? With me, of course.” He winked suggestively. “We can always engage in some royal encounters in the palatial comfort of yon lousy pallet . . . It grows lonely, don’t you think?” “Shut up!” she snarled. “I don’t have to stand here and listen to your sly innuendos!” “Sly? Forgive me. I thought I was being quite direct. Allow me to steer a more . . . decided course.” He rose to his feet, towering over her, and, with a mocking sweep of his arm around the dark cell, the stone floor, the filthy mat said, “Perhaps you will join me for a bout of lusty coupling upon the forgiving comfort of—”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate

“And what, Majesty, did you ask for?” “A noble and gallant sea officer. . . An honorable warrior.” Her mouth tightened. “A hero.” “Well then, allow me to pretend,” he murmured, his fingers inches from those tempting breasts. “But you’re a pirate!” “And a good one, too,” he added, grinning wolfishly and letting his fingertips slide beneath her shirt.”
― Danelle Harmon, My Lady Pirate