Deck the Halls With Love Quotes

“Tell them you made your way here, but the storm prevented you from going farther, and you’ve been waiting it out.” “I don’t understand. You’ll be here.” He stroked her cheek, and the sadness in his eyes almost made her weep. “No. I won’t have your reputation dragged through the mud by having us found together.” She flattened her hand against his chest. “But the discovery of us together will ensure that we marry. My father will very well insist.” He brought her in close, then tucked her beneath his chin. “I want you, Merry, more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life, but not at the risk of bringing you shame or more pain than I’ve already caused. Nor will I do as Litton and force you into marriage.” Dipping his head, he kissed her short and sweet, but in the tenderness of the moment she heard volumes: love, caring, goodbye. Then he was rushing out of the room as though the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels, while the duke’s hounds were barking more loudly with their approaching nearness. Feeling lost and bereft, she went through the motions of slipping back into her stiff but dried riding habit. She was buttoning up the last of the pearl disks when she heard a door slam open and the stomp of feet.”
― Lorraine Heath, Deck the Halls With Love

“Dragging his mouth along the arch of her throat, he rasped, “I want you, Merry. You can’t imagine how much I want you.” Oh, she could imagine it very well, because she wanted him. As wrong as it was, she wanted him with an intensity that fairly threatened to destroy her. When Litton had kissed her in the garden, she hadn’t wanted to melt into him, to meld her body with his. With Chetwyn, all rational thought scattered away like dried leaves before an autumn breeze. She couldn’t think, didn’t want to think, wanted only to feel the eager press of his hands, the hunger of his mouth against her flesh. Shifting his weight, he carried her down to their makeshift velveteen bed. She thought the thickest of mattresses could not be more welcoming. Rising above her, he stared down on her. She combed her fingers through his unruly locks before bringing her palms down to cradle his jaw. The rough bristles tickled her tender skin. “I was a fool, Merry,” he whispered. “Misguided, trying to do right by my brother, putting my own wants, needs, and happiness aside. I want you. I need you. You bring me happiness such as I’ve never known. Let me show you how much I can love you.”
― Lorraine Heath, Deck the Halls With Love

“Not an hour passes by that I don’t miss him, not a day goes by that I don’t regret not finding another way. I could have married any number of women with dowries that would have provided me with the means to live more luxuriously. Instead, I was holding out for love. I was waiting for you.” She did not move away when his lips joined hers. His tongue stroked the seam of her mouth, urging her to open it for him. She shouldn’t have, but she did, because if she was honest with herself, she would admit that she had been waiting for him as well.”
― Lorraine Heath, Deck the Halls With Love

“Don’t go out far, Merry.” “Honestly, Chetwyn, you worry too much. The duchess told me that the pond has been iced over for a couple of weeks now.” “That doesn’t mean it’s perfectly safe.” Safer than you, she thought. She welcomed the brisk air brushing over her face, the snow melting on her eyelashes. With the silence, she could almost imagine that she was completely and absolutely alone. It was what she’d thought she wanted. Only now she realized that she wanted to be with him: walking, talking, her arm linked with his. She pirouetted to face him. She heard a crack of thunder. He was rushing toward her. “Merry, don’t move!” Another crack, louder than the first, and she realized with horror that the storm wasn’t above her, but beneath her. “Chetwyn!” Then the ice gave way.”
― Lorraine Heath, Deck the Halls With Love

“I trusted you with my heart once. I won’t do it again.” “I know I bruised your feelings.” “You did nothing of the sort.” Reaching down, she snatched up her skates. “I won’t give up,” he said. “Not until Christmas.” “Why that particular day?” “Because your love is the only gift I wish to receive.”
― Lorraine Heath, Deck the Halls With Love

“Do you love him? You never truly answered my question last night. Tell me that much at least. Do you love him?” She angled her chin. “With all my heart.” Hope soaring through him, he gave her a slow, triumphant grin. “You always were a poor liar, Merry.” Then he covered her mouth with his.”
― Lorraine Heath, Deck the Halls With Love

“With as little effort as though she weighed no more than a pillow, he lifted her up and laid her on the billiards table. She was vaguely aware of the balls scattering. Leaning over her, he braced his arms on either side of her head, his gaze intent. “Don’t marry him,” he urged, his voice low and sensual until it more closely resembled a caress. “I have to.” “Because of the kiss in the garden?” Her heart slammed into her ribs. “What do you know of the garden?” “Only rumors. The rest of your life shouldn’t be determined by a kiss.” Yet here she was thinking that if she weren’t betrothed, the kiss he had just delivered would have been the guiding star for the remainder of her life. No one else’s would ever measure up. A broken betrothal . . . Litton would sue. Her father wouldn’t allow that sort of scandal to happen. “You’re being a bit hypocritical. You’re asking me to change the direction of my life because you managed to steal a kiss that left me breathless. You had your chance with me, Chetwyn. You chose another. Now so have I.” “I can explain.”
― Lorraine Heath, Deck the Halls With Love

“He dragged his lips along her throat, and she found herself arching up toward him, offering him more. “You haven’t won,” she said breathlessly. They hadn’t even started to play. Raising his head, he gave her a dark grin. “Oh, but I have.”
― Lorraine Heath, Deck the Halls With Love

“Relax,” he murmured into her ear, and within her slippers her toes curled as though he were giving attention to them. “I am relaxed.” Liar, liar. “You’re as stiff as a poker. I’m going to position your hands, your stance.” “I think you’re wrong. I think they are exactly as they need to be.” “Not if you wish to beat me.” Turning her head to the side, she met and held his gaze. “Why would you assist me in giving you a sound thrashing and miss out on your kiss? If you truly wanted it—” “Oh, I truly want it,” he said in a silken voice. “And I intend to have it.” Suddenly, one of his hands was cupping her cheek, while his fingers plowed through her hair. He somehow managed to twist and bend her slightly so she was cradled in his other arm. He lowered his head, and his mouth plundered. No soft taking this, but an urgency. He ravished with his tongue as though he would die if he didn’t taste her, as though he would cease to exist if he left anything unexplored. This was exactly what she had imagined kissing him would be like during the months when they had flirted,”
― Lorraine Heath, Deck the Halls With Love

“She angled her chin haughtily. “I already know how to play. Litton taught me. What do I gain if I win?” “What would you like?” “For you to leave immediately.” He furrowed his brow. “The room?” “The manor, the estate, the shire.” She knew the challenge was now in her gaze, and she could see him considering it, perhaps wondering how truly skilled she was. “And if I win?” he asked, his voice thrumming with an undercurrent that should have frightened her off. “What do I receive?” “Our last night here there is to be another ball. A dance. Whichever one you want. I shall let you sign my card first.” He picked up her cue stick and studied it as though he were trying to determine how it had been made. “A kiss.” He shifted his gaze over to her and captured her as though he’d suddenly wrapped his arms around her. “As soon as I sink my last ball.” “That would be entirely inappropriate.” He gave her a devilish grin. “Which is why I want it.” “You always struck me as quite the gentleman.” A shadow crossed his features. “Not tonight. I’ve spent too much time contemplating past mistakes.”
― Lorraine Heath, Deck the Halls With Love

“Play billiards with me.” His eyes held a challenge that she knew had little to do with the actual game. He was daring her to stay, to risk being with him. Did he know how much she was drawn to him, how very dangerous he was to her? “I’ll teach you,” he said.”
― Lorraine Heath, Deck the Halls With Love

“Then in early spring a soldier delivered a letter from Walter, long after he was gone. The man hadn’t posted it for fear it would become lost on the journey from the Crimea. Walter’s words had shaken Chetwyn to the core. As he lay ill, he must have known that the Grim Reaper was hovering nearby, because he asked Chetwyn to promise to ensure that his betrothed was happy. Chetwyn, numbskull that he was, had thought the only way to ensure Lady Anne’s well-being was to marry her himself, so he’d held his growing feelings for Lady Meredith in check. When the next Season was upon them, he turned his attentions to securing Lady Anne’s happiness while Lady Meredith slipped beyond reach. He had no right to ask her for forgiveness, no right to ask for a second chance. She had moved on with her life, she had found another. It was time for him to do the same, to stop living in the past, to stop focusing on what might have been— If he’d not been so insistent on restoring his estates to their former glory.”
― Lorraine Heath, Deck the Halls With Love

“An image flashed of him kissing her. She had often wondered at his flavor, but she would not fall for him again, she would not. “For God’s sake, I am betrothed.” “As I’m well aware.” She saw a flicker of sadness and regret cross his features. “You should know, Merry, that I am here only because of you.” “Your flirtation is no longer welcome, Chetwyn. I shall be no man’s second choice.” “You were always my first.” His eyes held sincerity and something else that fairly took her breath: an intense longing. Dear God, even Litton didn’t look at her like that. Chetwyn’s revelation delighted, angered, and hurt at the same time. She released a bitter laugh. “Well, you had a frightfully funny way of showing it, didn’t you?” She stepped away. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve become quite parched.”
― Lorraine Heath, Deck the Halls With Love

“His inability to resist her was what had led to them being caught the night of Greystone’s ball in the garden in a very compromising situation that had resulted in a rather hasty betrothal. Her father had managed to limit the damage done by ensuring that no one other than he and her brothers knew of the discovery. Litton had been quick to propose on the spot, but then her father could be quite intimidating. As they were discovered before they had moved beyond a kiss, the wedding was not being rushed. Meredith knew Litton was an honorable man. He could have run off, but he didn’t. He stood by her and offered to marry her. She didn’t like the little niggle of doubt that surfaced from time to time and made her wonder if he arranged to be caught. If he did, was it because he so desperately wanted her or her dowry? As he smiled down on her now, she sent the irritating doubts to perdition and accepted that he was madly in love with her. They would be wondrously happy together. If only her heart would cooperate.”
― Lorraine Heath, Deck the Halls With Love

“The decorated tree in the parlor, the sprigs of holly scattered about, and the red bows on the portraits that had greeted him upon his arrival had served as an unwarranted reminder that the auspicious morning was quickly approaching, and then she would be lost to him forever. But if she loved Litton, could he deny her what he had granted Anne: a life with the man she loved? It was a quandary with which he struggled, because he wished only happiness for Lady Meredith, but he was arrogant enough to believe that he could bring her joy as no one else could. No other gentleman would hold her in such high esteem. No other man would adore her as he did. Convincing her that she belonged with him was going to be quite the trick, as he suspected she’d rather see him rotting in hell than standing beside her at the altar. Despite the fact that she was engaged to marry, he kept hoping that she would glance over, would give him a smile, would offer any sort of encouragement at all. Instead she waltzed on, as though for her he no longer existed.”
― Lorraine Heath, Deck the Halls With Love

“From his shadowed corner, he now watched Lady Meredith Hargreaves dance with her betrothed, Lord Litton. Based on her smile and the way her gaze never strayed from his, she appeared to be joyous and very much in love with the fellow. Although perhaps she was simply imbued with the spirit of the season. He could always hope. He knew he should look about for another dance partner. The problem was that she was the only one with whom he wished to waltz. Hers were the only eyes into which he longed to gaze, hers the only fragrance he yearned to inhale, hers the only voice he wanted whispering near his ear as passion smoldered. It had been that way for some time now, but he had fought back his burgeoning desire for her out of a sense of obligation and duty, out of a misguided attempt to make amends regarding his younger brother, Walter, who had sacrificed his life in the Crimea.”
― Lorraine Heath, Deck the Halls With Love

“Alistair Wakefield, the Marquess of Chetwyn,”
― Lorraine Heath, Deck the Halls With Love