Tempt Me at Midnight Quotes

“THE NIGHTGOWN was only the first of the garments in the box. There were seven nightgowns, in fact—one for each day of the week—of delicate silk, lovely georgette, and beautiful tiffany. As Alexandra pulled them out, she draped them on the bed. She’d never seen a nightgown that wasn’t white, but these were almond and pale blush pink, powder blue and soft peach, with delicate edgings of lace and intricate, exquisite embroidery. “They’re stunning,” she said. “Madame Rodale has nothing like them in her book of fashion plates.” Tris just grinned. He seemed different tonight. More relaxed, less worried. She didn’t know what had prompted his sudden good humor, but she didn’t want to question it. She’d rather enjoy it instead. After the afternoon she’d had—starting with Elizabeth’s letter and ending with three fruitless interviews—she wasn’t about to risk the one thing that seemed to be going right. “Are you going to try one on for me?” he asked. Her face heated. He chose a nightgown off the bed, palest lavender with black lace and violet embroidery. “This one,” he said, handing it to her. “Do you require assistance with your dress?” “Just the buttons,” she said, and turned to let him unfasten them. She shifted the nightgown in her hands. It felt so light. “There,” he said when the back of her green dress gaped open. He kissed her softly on the nape of her neck, then settled on one of the striped chairs, sipping from the glass of port he’d brought upstairs with him. “Use the dressing room. I’ll be waiting.” In the dressing room, she shakily stripped out of her frock, chemise, shoes, and stockings, then dropped the nightgown over her head and smoothed it down over her hips. The fabric whispered against her legs. She turned to see herself in the looking glass. Sweet heaven. She’d never imagined nightgowns like this existed. Her nightgowns all had high collars that tied at the throat. This one had a wide, low neckline. Her nightgowns all had long, full sleeves. This one had tiny puffed sleeves that began halfway off her shoulders. Her nightgowns were made of yards and yards of thick, billowing fabric. This one was a slender column that left no curve to the imagination. It was wicked. “Are you ready yet?” Tris called. Alexandra swallowed hard, reminding herself that he’d seen her in less clothing. And he was her husband. Still, wearing the nightgown for him somehow felt more intimate than wearing nothing at all. She was as ready as she’d ever be. Drawing a deep breath, she exited the dressing room, walked quickly through the sitting room, and paused in the bedroom’s doorway. She dropped her gaze, then raised her lashes, giving him the look—the one Juliana had said would make men fall at her feet. Judging from the expression on Tris’s face, it was a good thing he was sitting. The way he looked at her made her heartbeat accelerate. He rose and moved toward her. She met him halfway, licking suddenly dry lips. “Will you kiss me?” she asked softly, reaching up to sweep that always unruly lock off his forehead. It worked this time. He kissed her but good.”
― Lauren Royal, Alexandra

“The last cake in his hand, he turned to her. “Alexandra.” Placing the candle on the side table, she knelt to retrieve the cloth. “We missed you at the last few meals. But you could have asked if you wanted more.” She straightened, setting the cloth on the table, too. “I’d have sent them to you in the workshop.” He tilted his head, giving her a look so calculatedly innocent—his smile vague, his eyes deliberately blank—that she laughed again. “I’m going to tell everyone you’re a sweet thief.” The cake fell from his fingers and landed with a little plop on the carpet. “Alexandra,” he repeated and reached for her, dragging her into his arms. Though stunned, she went willingly. With their faces just a hair’s breadth apart, he hesitated, making her shiver with anticipation. Then their lips met—she couldn’t tell who closed the gap—and her heart rolled over in her chest. The way they were pressed together from shoulder down to navel seemed incredibly intimate and thrilling—and very different from the friendly or sisterly sort of embrace she was used to. She could feel the searing heat of his skin through the fine fabric of his dressing gown. He wrapped his arms around her back. She buried her hands in his soft hair. He tasted of sugar and chocolate and Tris, a deliciously sweet combination. No, make that dangerously sweet. It took a herculean effort to retreat the barest inch. “We cannot,” she whispered. The look he gave her was so odd and intense, it seemed to go right through her. “I—I need to go back to my room,” she stammered, removing herself from his arms. When he didn’t reply, she added, “I’m sorry,” even though she wasn’t sure what she was apologizing for. He nodded, his lips curving in a sad almost-smile. “We should both go back to our rooms,” she said more firmly. “Good night.” “’Night,” he echoed and turned to exit the far end of the room. Almost against her will, she followed him to the doorway and watched him slowly traverse the long length of the torchlit great hall, standing there until he disappeared into the dark corridor that led to the guest chambers. He didn’t look back. She released a long, shuddering breath before retrieving her candle”
― Lauren Royal, Alexandra

“All at once, something changed in that molten gray gaze, and he stepped closer, his scent overwhelming her—that clean-Tris scent. “Alexandra,” he murmured, his fingertips grazing her cheek. His warmth enveloped her, warding off the chill night air. He cupped her face in his hand and pressed closer, all but pinning her against the ancient stone wall. Closer, closer, until she could feel his breath teasing her lips. She wondered fleetingly if she would faint from lack of air. Then his lips touched hers, and all thought fled for a long, glorious moment. When he released her, she stood frozen in utter, giddy disbelief, relying on the wall for support. Her first kiss, it had been, and it had felt wonderful. Soon, she thought dizzily, his surprising, thrilling words still swirling about in her head…I’ve thought about you all the time…soon, they would kiss again.”
― Lauren Royal, Alexandra

“People, common people especially, usually seemed more comfortable with the familiar.”
― Lauren Royal, Lost in Temptation

“Take halfe a pound of Ground Almonds and a little more than that of Sugar. Make it up in a stiff paste with Whites of five Eggs and a little Essence of Almond whipt to a Froth. Beat it all well in a Mortar, and make it up in little Loaves, then bake them in a very cool oven on Paper and Tin-Plates.”
― Lauren Royal, Lost in Temptation

“ALEXANDRA WAS having the most extraordinary, most incredible, most marvelous dream. Tris was kissing her. Long, slow kisses that made her senses spin. Even in her dream, she was shocked, but as it was only a dream, she decided to let it continue. To just lie back and imagine this was real, that they could truly be this close to each other. Just lie back… Indeed, she realized, she was lying back…on a bed. Her bed. Her eyes were closed, but she knew it was her bed regardless, perhaps because it was her dream. Tris was lying beside her. She’d never kissed Tris while lying down. It felt glorious, being sandwiched snugly between his body and the mattress. Perhaps also because it was her dream, she didn’t wonder if she was doing it right. The kissing, that is. This was nothing like any kiss they’d ever shared before. Their lips were parted, and their tongues were touching. It felt wonderfully bizarre. She didn’t know if other people kissed in this fashion, but if they didn’t, she felt sorry for them. She sighed happily and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him even closer. She could barely conceive of acting so forward in real life, but this was a dream, so she could do as she pleased. She”
― Lauren Royal, Alexandra

“And Alexandra’s faith in him, though touching, was hardly convincing. How was she to know what he was capable of? “I must go,” he said, trying to pull away. She gripped his hand tighter. “Stay. Please. A few minutes longer.” She didn’t have to say why—they both knew that they would never be together like this again. So he stayed. Her skin was so silky beneath his fingertips, her loose, long hair so fragrant. He closed the gap between their bodies and buried his face against her neck. He could feel her pulse, rapid and unsteady like his. And when she fell asleep in his arms, he couldn’t imagine a more tender moment. He wouldn’t succumb to sleep himself. He’d just lay with her a little longer. Soon, he would be gone. He wouldn’t sleep.”
― Lauren Royal, Alexandra

“ALEXANDRA WAS having the most extraordinary, most incredible, most marvelous dream. Tris was kissing her. Long, slow kisses that made her senses spin. Even in her dream, she was shocked, but as it was only a dream, she decided to let it continue. To just lie back and imagine this was real, that they could truly be this close to each other. Just lie back… Indeed, she realized, she was lying back…on a bed. Her bed. Her eyes were closed, but she knew it was her bed regardless, perhaps because it was her dream. Tris was lying beside her. She’d never kissed Tris while lying down. It felt glorious, being sandwiched snugly between his body and the mattress. Perhaps also because it was her dream, she didn’t wonder if she was doing it right. The kissing, that is. This was nothing like any kiss they’d ever shared before. Their lips were parted, and their tongues were touching. It felt wonderfully bizarre. She didn’t know if other people kissed in this fashion, but if they didn’t, she felt sorry for them. She sighed happily and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him even closer. She could barely conceive of acting so forward in real life, but this was a dream, so she could do as she pleased. She slid her hands over his back, feeling his muscles through his dressing gown. He felt so warm and solid, and so very, very real— Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. “Tris!” she cried. “What?” Her lids flew open. In the dim light from the dying fire, his eyes looked wide. “Where am I?” he asked, and she felt foggy, confused. He struggled to rise to an elbow, his gray gaze sweeping the room. “How on earth did I come to be here—” He broke off as he focused on her beside him, then gasped. “Oh, blast it,” he ground out. THIRTY-ONE ALEXANDRA snatched the counterpane up to her chin, but not before Tristan could observe that she wore nothing but a prim white nightgown.”
― Lauren Royal, Alexandra

“Aren’t our dresses exquisite?” Performing a few happy waltz steps, Corinna turned in a circle. “Um, yes. Pull your sleeves up, Juliana, will you?” She tugged at them, but the dress was designed to be off the shoulder. “They won’t go.” He eyed their dresses’ high waistlines and scooped necklines, designed to accentuate the bust. “You’re all going to cover”—at an apparent loss for words, he patted his own chest—“with one of those scarf things, right?” “A fichu?” Madame sniffed. “I think not. These are evening gowns, my lord.” “They don’t look like the pictures my sisters showed me.” “The pictures were but a starting point, my lord. By the time the fashion plates make it here from France, they’re already beginning to pass out of style.” “We shall not be caught in last month’s fashions,” Juliana added. “These gowns are the thing.” “Not in this house, they aren’t!” “Griffin. Good news. The foundry will have the new part cast by the end of the day.” Tris walked in, scanned the room with a low whistle, and settled on Alexandra. “By George, you ladies will put every other girl to shame.” “My sisters won’t be wearing these dresses,” Griffin said. “Of course they will.” Tris tore his gaze from Alexandra and turned to his friend. “While I take apart the pump, you’ll want to head out to the vineyard and see that work on the new pipeline is resumed.” “Very well.” Griffin turned to leave, then swiveled back. “I’m not paying for those dresses,” he warned. “Not until they’re made decent.” Madame Rodale gave a little French-sounding “hmmph.” Tris laughed. “Listen to yourself, old man. You’ve been on campaign far too long. Don’t you want men to find your sisters appealing? Irresistible? Marriageable?” “Not if they’re men like…” “Like us?” Tris suggested helpfully. Griffin’s “hmmph” put the mantua-maker’s to shame. “I need to get to the vineyard,” he muttered and left. “Madame”
― Lauren Royal, Alexandra

“Men truly were the most oblivious creatures.”
― Lauren Royal, Alexandra

“The man’s been accused of murder.”
― Lauren Royal, Alexandra

“There’s no chance I will ever take you for my wife.”
― Lauren Royal, Alexandra

“By the second course, he was beginning to suspect their proximity was no coincidence. Attending to Griffin’s talk was growing steadily more challenging with Alexandra in his peripheral vision. From her coy looks to her peals of feminine laughter, every action seemed calculated to attract his attention. Even her habit of fiddling with the necklace that dangled enticingly near the swell of her— He froze with a forkful halfway to his lips. She was wearing the cameo he’d sent her from Jamaica. And he felt entirely too pleased to see it on her. Candlelight glinted off the three little diamonds and the planes of the pearly face. He”
― Lauren Royal, Alexandra

“a”
― Lauren Royal, Lost in Temptation

“preparations,”
― Lauren Royal, Lost in Temptation

“Take half a pint of milk and heat to boiling then pour over a like amount of bread crumbs and leave until heat has abated. Melt 8 spoons of butter and to this add grated rind of lemons, a fair measure of sugar and three eggs well beaten. Mix all together and pour into buttered cake-cups and bake until browned.”
― Lauren Royal, Lost in Temptation

“But that didn't stop her from wishing she could. It didn't stop her stomach from tingling when she heard his low voice, didn't stop her heart from skipping when she felt herself caught in his intense, silver-gray gaze.”
― Lauren Royal, Lost in Temptation